“I know it is. But this isn’t one of those times where you can act now and deal with the consequences later.”
“I know that.”
“All I need is for you to want me because I’m me. Not because I’m convenient.”
He lets out a harsh laugh. “My feelings for you are anything but convenient.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If I wanted an easy fuck, I wouldn’t have told Andrew to go home.”
“Being with him would be less complicated,” I point out.
Seb closes the gap between us. “Since when have you ever known me to take the easy road?”
“I don’t want to make your life messier than it already is.”
“When you disappeared today, I’ve never been so scared in my entire life,” he whispers. “I thought I could lose you and that’s when I realized Andrew was right.”
“About what?”
Seb’s thumb traces over my jaw. “I’m in love with you as much as you are with me. I just … I didn’t know that’s what it was until it was pointed out. Casual admiration and complete trust doesn’t exactly scream bone-deep forever type of love, but it’s definitely a great basis for it. If I’d known there was a possibility for more, maybe I would’ve seen it sooner for what it really is.”
“What is it?”
“The type of love that slaps you in the face.”
My lips part as I suck in a stilted breath. “Getting involved isn’t smart. It’s why—”
“It’s why you never told me how you felt?”
I nod. “The media will love it, the label will hate it, and Cash and the guys, they’ll worry about what it means for the band.”
“I know all of that. I just don’t care.”
“If I kiss you again, that’s it,” I say, my voice a low rasp. “Lines have been crossed, and I need to know you’re ready for it.”
He matches my tone. “I’m so ready for it.”
My eyes flutter closed, and I finally let myself give in to it. “That’s all I need.”
Chapter Eight
Seb
Thorne touches his lips to mine this time. He kisses me. And the minute his mouth lands on me, it’s as if something unleashes, and it happens all at once. The explosion of emotions I’ve been suppressing for what feels like years.
Every smile he has sent my way from the side of the stage. Every fight we’ve had over the clothes Cash and I wear to the shit we say in interviews. He’s always had this eye-rolling yet proud expression.
The random affection bouncing around in my chest about him is new, but his constant presence in my life makes it easier to accept.
I understand Thorne’s hesitance about doing this. The timing for this has been weird, but without a doubt, the warmth and fullness inside me when I’m around Thorne is more than a manager and client relationship. It’s more than just friends.
Just like this kiss is not soft or caring, yet it’s everything. It’s claiming, and my soul responds to that. It responds in ways it never has to another person. Kissing is all mouths and tongue, but with Thorne? It’s a fucking life experience. Butterflies warm my gut, and my skin feels like it’s on fire.
The most unexpected thing about this all is that when his tongue pushes into my mouth, I not only melt into him but I one hundred percent let him take charge.
I let his hands roam over my back and grip my ass. I let his tongue take control of mine, and with every stroke, I submit more and more.
That’s not my usual MO when it comes to sex. And I really fucking hope that’s where this is leading.
Under other circumstances, I’m the one to take control because I need to. Because if I didn’t, shit would be spread about me in the tabloids. I’ve never been able to trust anyone I’ve been with, but with Thorne, I’m able to let that all go.
His kisses are hard, his grip on my hips even harder, and the more he pushes, the more I relax, and the more control I give to him.
“We need to go inside,” he murmurs against my lips.
Yes. Inside. Bed.
“You go first,” Thorne says. “Go to my room and take off all your clothes. I’ll be in there in a couple of minutes.”
“You don’t want the others to know?”
“Not yet. And especially not now.”
Oh. Right. That’s not going to be a fun conversation.
Thorne nods in the direction of the house. “Go.”
I’m quick to obey, but as soon as I enter the doors, Andrew blinks up at me from the couch in the formal sitting area.
“Weren’t you …” Leaving? Rude much, asshole?
He smiles. “Going home? I am. Apparently Greg’s woman isn’t too happy with him. He’s going to drop us both off at the airport. There’s one last flight tonight.”
“Oh. Umm, cool.” I shove my hands in my pockets.