Rewrite the Stars - Page 6

“Oh, so I’m not living, because I was a little hesitant to waltz into something called the Globe of Death? Or because I’m not keen on breaking and entering? Sorry for my pesky self-preservation instincts.” I puff up a lock of hair that’s fallen in my face and try to walk away, b

ut before I know what’s happening, Sebastian backs me up against the dilapidated wall, his fists resting against it on either side of my head.

“That’s where you’re wrong. You may be scared, but your self-preservation instincts are lacking. Otherwise you wouldn’t be out here with us. And you damn sure wouldn’t be thinking you’re safe right now with me.”

For the first time tonight, that uneasy feeling creeps into me, sending tendrils of fear down my spine. I swallow hard, trying to surreptitiously reach into my purse. I feel my cool, hard phone and wrap my palm around it, hitting the power button with my thumb, just in case. Sebastian’s right fist leaves the wall, and his palm comes to rest where my neck meets my shoulder. I squeeze my eyes shut, but he simply brushes his thumb across my neck.

“I see your pulse jumping in your throat,” he muses, his eyes darting back and forth between my neck and my eyes. I wet my suddenly dry lips with my tongue, waiting for him to make his move, earning a low growl. I don’t know if he’s going to kiss me or kill me. “Am I scaring you?”

“Are you going to kiss me?” I don’t know why I said that out loud. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, like kissing me was the last thing on his mind. I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment, and I look down at my feet, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you want me to?” He lifts my chin like he did in the globe, forcing me to meet his gaze. I don’t answer. I do want him to kiss me, but I’d never say it out loud. Saying no is out of the question, too. Instead, my eyes trail down to his full lips, and I wonder what it would be like to have them pressed against mine. I’m probably the only girl in the tenth grade who hasn’t been kissed. That’s what happens when you have strict parents and too-high standards. So, why does this dirty stuntman have me feeling weak in the knees?

Sebastian smirks, as if he can hear the thoughts in my head. His thumb moves from my neck to my lips, and I suck in a breath as he traces them, first the bottom, then the top, applying more pressure than he did to my neck, probably smearing my berry-colored lip stain from earlier.

“Tell me no.”

I don’t.

“Evan…” Sebastian warns.

Instead, I push up on my toes, closing the distance between us. Right before my lips land on his, his eyes screw shut. I kiss his closed mouth, and he stands there, unmoving, as I take my time exploring. With one last kiss to his top lip, I pull away, biting my bottom lip. Sebastian opens his eyes, searching mine for a moment before he slides his palm behind my head and crashes his lips to mine. I gasp, and his tongue takes advantage, sweeping inside.

Oh my God. This is so much different. So much better. I timidly slide my tongue against his, and he groans. Gaining confidence, I stand taller on my tiptoes and circle my arms around his neck, his leather jacket creaking as I bring my elbows to rest on his shoulders. Sebastian doesn’t hesitate, his hands sliding down to the outside of my thighs and lifting me. My legs wrap around his waist, and my back presses into the rough, crumbling wall behind me. His jeans feel rough on the insides of my soft thighs, and I feel pressure building between my legs. Sebastian presses his hips into me, and I moan into the kiss, never having felt anything like it before.

I break away from the kiss, my head falling against the wall behind me with a thud, and Sebastian continues rocking into me while he open-mouth kisses the column of my throat, his hands moving to cup my ass. Our harsh breathing is the only sound. This is getting out of control fast, but I’d rather die than stop now. I squeeze my legs around him, trying to get closer, and his hands creep lower and lower, until his fingertips touch my panties. They don’t pry; they just glide back and forth on the hem, making me even crazier.

“I can feel you seeping through your underwear,” he says, but his voice sounds too pained to be unaffected. The way he taunts me, the way he dares to touch me so freely, as if we’re not complete strangers, only stokes the flames spreading inside me.

Like a bucket of ice water has landed on me, the sound of glass crunching has us both whipping toward the door. Elliot stands there, looking sheepish, his foot hovering above the broken glass that decorates the patio. How long has he been there?

“What the fuck are you looking at?” Sebastian barks. I try to drop my legs from his waist to stand, but Sebastian is in no hurry, slowly lowering me, hands still on the backs of my thighs. I’m thankful for the night sky, my skin red-hot from both lust and embarrassment.

“Sorry. Eros told me to come see what’s taking you guys so long.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrow into slits, like he doesn’t believe him.

“I better get back to the hotel,” I say, pushing past Sebastian’s hold, but my purse gets snagged on something behind me, halting me in my tracks, and the contents spill to the ground. I turn, freeing it from the rusty nail protruding from the wall. Elliot bends his knees, reaching for the pile, but Sebastian stops him with a look.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he snaps. Elliot holds up his palms before disappearing back inside.

Sebastian scoops up my things, handing them to me. “I’m giving you a ride,” he states, not asks. I’m a little disappointed that he doesn’t try to get me to hang out longer, but I don’t show it.

“I’m fine,” I insist, scrolling through the missed calls and texts from my parents.

“I wasn’t asking.”

I’m about to cave—knowing sooner is better than later when it comes to facing my parents—when blue and red flashing lights shine through the trees in the distance.

“Fuck,” Sebastian spits, turning for the door. “Boys! We got a problem.”

They waltz out, without a care in the world, coming to stand like sentries, arms folded across their chests…all except for Elliot who looks like he’s about to crap his pants. Elliot takes off into the trees, and Eros scoffs. “Pussy.”

Five police cars come to a stop, shining their lights on us.

“All this for a little B and E?” Eros laughs.

“Evangeline Thorne?” one of the policemen shouts. My eyes widen.

Tags: Charleigh Rose Romance
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