MVP (VIP Book 3) (9 page)

“What would I do without you?” she whispered, loud enough for us both to hear and then kissed the side of his neck.

Never tearing his neutral gaze from mine, he kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too,” he repeated.

I roughly grabbed on to her arm and jerked her to me, cradling her like a baby and carrying her into
our
bedroom, kicking the door closed behind me.

She inhaled my scent and half moaned “Sebastian” as I gently laid her on the bed and she spread out like a cat. I walked into the bathroom and grabbed three Ibuprofen from the cabinet.

I reached for her and sat her up. “Ysa, you have to take this.”

She half-opened her beautiful eyes and smiled at me. I never wanted to yell at her more than I wanted to in that moment. It wasn’t the time; I would have to wait. I placed the pills in her mouth and helped her take a sip from the bottled water that was on the nightstand. She was already half asleep when I started taking off her clothes. I left her in her panties and scooted her on her side of the bed, laying her on her pillow and covering her with the sheet. She groaned, displeased, and rolled over to my side, grabbing my pillow and sighing in contentment.

I sat back on the armchair and rubbed my temples, in an effort to calm the migraine that was forming, to no avail. I watched her sleep for a few minutes before a sound from the living room reminded me of the reason she was in this state in the first place. I took one more look at her, kissed her on the forehead, and walked out into the living room. He was cleaning up their mess of alcohol and food and paused when he heard me close the bedroom door.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” I demanded, trying to keep my composure. I wanted nothing more than to beat the fuck out of him.

Mine.

He wiped his hands on the dishrag, threw it on the counter, and walked in my direction, stopping a few feet in front of me.

“Ysabelle invited me. That’s why I’m here, and I’m not leaving until she tells me to go.” He shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? You think I’m fucking stupid? You don’t think I see the way you look at her, how given the chance, you find a way to touch her?” I snickered and stepped in front of him until we were mere inches apart. “But guess what, motherfucker, she’s mine. And I will destroy anyone who tries to take her away from me. Do you understand? I get this nice guy act you have going on and I’m sure it gets you lots of pussy. I don’t give a flying fuck whom you are to her, you come in between us and I will take you the fuck out.” I roughly pushed him, but he didn’t lose his footing, he was expecting it.

“Now, I’m going to ask you this one fucking time, and trust me, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

He held his head higher, not cowering. I balled my fists.

“Have you ever fucked her?”

“No,” he responded with no hesitation.

“Do you want to?”

He paused. “No.”

“Liar,” I stated through gritted teeth. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter…she loves you,” he informed, not missing a beat. “She spent the entire day talking about you. I’m here as her friend. I’ve been in her life longer than anyone, especially you. I’ve seen her at her worst and I’ve seen her at her best. But unlike you, I’ve never fucked her over. I know who you are, Sebastian. Don’t try to play the nobleman act with me. Now…let me remind you that just because I haven’t been inside her, doesn’t mean I don’t know her in more ways than you do.”

My fist connected with his jaw before he even got the last word out. He stammered a little, but caught himself on the coffee table. 

I cocked my head to the side. “You want to try that again?” I threatened.

He raised an eyebrow and rubbed at his jawline, backing away from me. I cracked my neck as soon as he left my sight, but he quickly reemerged with his duffle bag and his sleeping son in his arms.

Fuck.

I immediately felt like a bastard, I completely forgot about the kid.

“Let Ysabelle know that something came up and I had to go back to Miami. I’ll call her tomorrow afternoon,” he informed and left.

And that was that…

There was nothing left to say.

My head was pounding.

I covered my eyes from the sunlight. It was too fucking bright.

“How you feeling?”

Of course, he was watching me sleep.

“I’m hurting.”

“I bet. Sit up,” he ordered.

I slowly peeled my eyes open, one at a time. Sebastian was holding a glass of ice water and buttered toast. I sluggishly sat up, pulling the sheet with me and leaned against my headboard, grabbing the water and gulping it.

“Here,” he said, handing me Ibuprofen.

“Oh, I love you; you’re so good to me,” I responded, smiling.

He half-smiled at me, as I took a bite of toast.

“Where’s Devon?”

“He said something came up in Miami and he had to leave.”

“What? Is everything okay?”

He shrugged. “I guess, I didn’t really talk to him. How much do you remember from yesterday?”

“Oh…” I hesitated. “Ummm…things start getting a little hazy after we opened the second bottle of wine. Was I a shit show?”

He chuckled. “I’ve seen worse. You definitely couldn’t fend for yourself. I put you to bed, though.”

“When did Devon leave?”

“After you passed out.”

“Oh. I hope he’s okay. You guys didn’t get a chance to hang?”

He shook his head no. “I barely talked to him. He just said he had to leave and that he’d call you later.”

“Okay. I think we should do a cuddle day. Watch movies in bed and eat junk food. I don’t feel good.”

“Ysa…” he said in a serious tone.

Damn it.
“I know, Sebastian. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“We need to talk about it.”

I nodded. I didn’t really want to have a serious conversation while feeling like shit, but I knew better than to say that out loud. He deserved an explanation.

“You can’t keep running away from me like that.”

“I know.”

“You know where I stand and sometimes I think I know where you do, but then something like yesterday happens and I’m back to square one again. I love you. I know what I want and it’s you.”

“I love you, too.”

He smiled. “You have to talk to me, Ysa. You have to tell me what you’re feeling because I can’t help you if I don’t know. I’m not a mind reader.”

“It’s hard for me.”

“I know, but what do you want?”

“You,” I simply stated. “I talked to Devon and it really helped.”

He sighed. “I need and want you to talk to me.”

“I know. I promise, I’ll try. It’s just that Devon has always be–”

“I don’t want to talk about Devon, Ysabelle,” he abruptly interrupted. “I want to talk about us, me and you. That’s all that matters, no one else,” he added.

“I understand.”

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead and then the tip of my nose, before resting his forehead on mine. “Will you come back to Miami with me? It would mean everything to me to have you by my side. I need you.”

I would do this for him.

For us.

I took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

A few days later, I bought the plane tickets, first class. Ysabelle was insistent on that, she said something about hating to fly, and sitting too close to a person she didn’t know gave her anxiety. I didn’t care if I had to rent a fucking private plane if that’s what it took to get her to go with me. Three weeks later and we left the next morning. I rented us a suite on South Beach for a week; it would give us time to get everything in order without having to rush. Luke, Ysabelle’s GM, was going to be watching the bar and Chance while we were gone. It was the first time she would be leaving the bar for that extended amount of time, but I knew that wasn’t what was bothering her.

I could tell she had reservations, but didn’t express them to me. I didn’t push her for any information; she was coming back with me and I knew that was huge for her. Not to take into account everything else that went along with it, I couldn’t fault her for being overwhelmed; it was a lot. And as much as I wanted her to open up to me and tell me everything she was feeling, and that
we
would work it out together, I knew that would only add fuel to her already lit fire. She was coming back with me and that was good enough for me.

For now.

“You almost done packing?” I asked, walking into the bedroom.

Her luggage was on the floor and she had piles of clothes scattered on the bed; she had been packing all morning. Let me rephrase that…she would pack, and then unpack, and then start all over again. The nervousness she displayed was adorable.

“I’m getting there,” she sighed. “I left all my stuff at my condo when I left Miami and the stuff I own now is not…Miami…” she reasoned.

I held back the laughter that was at bay and sat on the armchair. “Ysa, you look fucking amazing in anything. Although I prefer you in nothing.” I smirked, getting her to glance up and smile.

There’s my girl.

“Do you want me to help?” I suggested.

“No, I’m almost done. I think…”

“No…I think I can help.”

I gripped her wrist, bringing her over to me and she giggled. She straddled my lap with her ass on my cock, facing away from me.

“I actually love what you’re wearing right now,” I huskily praised while my hands moved from her hips to the sides of her body, up to her breasts. I slowly touched them and she curved her back.

Vixen.

“You know what the color white does to me. Do you do it on purpose?”

She sucked in air when one of my hands moved to the back of her neck and I nudged her backward, making her hips sway on my cock.

“Why do you provoke me?”

She deviously gazed into my eyes. “Because I can,” she snickered and I immediately jerked her head back by her hair.

“You know I like it rough, Mr. Vanwell,” she added, baiting me.

“Oh…it’s Mr. Vanwell is it?” I murmured, inclining her head back further. Her body was stretched out for me; she felt tinier in that angle. I could do anything I wanted to her and she would let me, begging me to keep going. That’s just the kind of woman she was.