Chapter Seventeen
Sebastian
After I close the door to my office, I rest my forehead against the wood.
What did I just do?
When I went searching for Grace, her camera clasped in my hand, I didn’t know what my plan was, but it certainly wasn’tthat.
Fuck.
I roll my forehead against the hard surface before making my way to the corner of the room, my gaze zeroing in on the whiskey I was drinking earlier. I grab the bottle by the neck and fall into the chair behind my desk. It groans with the sudden weight, and all I can think of is the sweet little sounds that escaped when I explored Grace’s mouth with my tongue.
My dick presses against my zipper, still half hard. I push the heel of my palm against it, but it only reminds me of how she felt in my arms, her body pressed against mine, and I swallow a groan before ripping my hand away.
I unscrew the lid and splash a decent amount into my glass before tossing it back, but it does nothing to remove her taste, so I pour another one.
Shekissedme.
And you kissed her back.
I could have left when she pulled away. Ishouldhave left.
It was the last thing I expected Grace to do, but one touch, onekissfrom her was enough for me to momentarily forget why I’d been fighting whatever pull she has over me. There was no way I could let her walk away after that, not without knowing what she tasted like, that somehow, I’d find the answer to what’s drawing me to her.
Except my head is more of a mess now than it ever was before.
What is she doing to me?
Bringing my glass to my lips, I knock back what’s left. I don’t feel the burn as the liquid slides down my throat. My vision blurs as I try to focus on the bottle in front of me. The bottle that looks almostempty. I blink a few times, but my vision doesn’t get any clearer, and the bottle doesn’t get any fuller.
When did that happen?
Pushing back from the desk, I use it to balance myself as I stand. I manage to make it out of the office, only stumbling once, but instead of heading for my bedroom down the hall, my legs take me in the opposite direction.
Just like the last couple of times I found myself here, the door to Grace’s room is partly open.
Grace’sroom?
She’s not a guest. She doesn’t live here. She’s only here for one reason, and when it’s done…
… she’s gone.
So why am I thinking about things ashers?
Shaking my head, I grip the door frame hard—the alcohol coursing through my veins overshadowing all the reasons I shouldn’t be looking for her again. Would she even want to see me? Would she kiss me again?
Fuck,that’s not what this is about, but why is it all I can think about? There’s no way she’s going to do anything to me after I kissed her, then left with no explanation. At least nothing I would like. This whole situation has turned to shit, and all it took was a day. How are we going to last a weekor longer?
I’m still trying to talk myself out of finding her when my wandering gaze finds the empty bed, the sheets still neat and unslept in. Pushing the door open further, my hand tightens around the frame when I see the empty chair by the window and the open bathroom door with only darkness beyond.
What time is it?
I try to read the time on my watch but give up when the hands keep spinning faster than could be right, or maybe it’s my head that’s doing the spinning.
The kitchen is dark as well, but a soft glow illuminates from the lamp in the lounge room, so I turn that way.
Empty.