Ruined (A Barnes Brothers novel) (19 page)

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but whatever it is . . .” Sebastien dipped his head and pressed his mouth to her ear. “You need to stop, otherwise we’re going to be giving a hell of a lot more than speculation to the gossip mill, Marin.”

He pulled back, but she reached out. Driven by too many emotions to name, she caught his arm. “So?”

Something hot and bright lit his eyes. He reached out and caught her chin, tilted her head back. “So . . .” He moved a little closer—not a lot. There was still plenty of room between them, but the impression of intimacy was there. “Just what are you saying, Marin?”

Marin wasn’t sure she knew what she was saying, but one thing she did know—she was tired of all the confusion roiling inside her. And she was tired of struggling to pretend that she didn’t feel anything more than friendship. It was damn obvious she felt a lot more, although Sebastien hadn’t seen it.

Moving closer, she took away that impression of intimacy. There was no denying it now. She was standing all but in his arms. He slid one hand up, gripped the damp weight of her hair and tugged. She arched her neck back, staring at him, breath catching as she waited.

But he didn’t kiss her.

She was desperate to feel his mouth on hers. All day, they’d worked on a handful of scenes, his character barreling in, then all but undressing her. When she resisted him, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. In the car, he’d put her down and touched her cheek.
“Stop screaming. I know you’re scared, but you have to listen to me. I’m not here to hurt you. I could never hurt you . . .”

There was a deep intimate connection between their characters and the scenes they’d filmed today had only added to the tension from earlier.

She
needed
him to kiss her.

But Sebastien just studied her eyes for a minute before letting his gaze slide down to her lips. Then he let go of her hair and stepped back.

Damn.

***

Sebastien thought about taking her to his place.

He wanted the privacy it offered, but at the same time, he didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. They had talking to do and it seemed it would be better to do it on neutral ground, but where in the hell was that?

In the end, he figured her hotel was closer to neutral ground than anything else. She was no more at
home
there than he was in any old hotel and he already knew he’d done something pretty awful. Otherwise she wouldn’t have shut him down and shut him out so thoroughly. Giving her whatever comfort she felt in her own space was the least he could do.

But they were definitely going to finish this.

Marin was getting more nervous by the second. He could see it in the way she held herself as they rode up the elevator, her shoulders rigid, her stare taking on that aloof quality she presented when dealing with reporters and others she wasn’t really happy about dealing with.

He wasn’t going to take offense, he told himself.

She was on edge and stressed and . . .
pregnant.

Pregnant—and it was his baby.

Marin was carrying
his
baby.

It hit him then in a way it hadn’t all day. He’d deliberately blocked it out of his head, because he hadn’t had much choice. He had to do his job, right? But now . . . the elevator doors slid open on a soft chime just as he staggered, his back slamming into the wall. Marin turned to look at him, her eyes widening a little. “You’re pregnant.”

“Ah . . . yes. You’ve known this.” She placed a hand on the doors as they started to close. “Come on, Sebastien.”

“You’re pregnant. It’s
mine
. She’s mine—he’s mine. Whatever.
You’re pregnant
.”

Marin gave him a smile, wobbly at first but it settled into place. “I know.” The elevator made a buzzing sound and she gave him an exasperated look. “I don’t think the elevator likes this much. Can we get off?”

“Fuck the elevator,” he muttered. But he managed to shove himself forward and momentum got him the rest of the way. Once he was off the elevator, he reached up and touched Marin’s cheek. “Are you . . . are you happy about this? The baby, I mean?”

The smile that settled on her face this time was the most beautiful, most amazing smile he’d ever seen. “I don’t think
happy
touches what I’m feeling, Sebastien.” She covered his hand with hers, then lowered it, closing her fingers around his as she started to walk, all but leading him to her room. “Come on, Seb. The hallway isn’t the place for this.”

Sebastien thought about telling her he didn’t care where they were, but then he decided maybe he did.

Because now that the impact of everything had really hit him, he had . . . questions. Questions that didn’t relate at all to why she hadn’t been there with him in the morning or what had happened or why it had taken so long for her to tell him. He wanted to know more about this . . . the baby. Her. How she felt. Did she feel anything . . .

He realized he was getting to the point of sounding stupid, and he didn’t even care.

Hell, he couldn’t even
sound
stupid yet because he hadn’t voiced the questions, but that didn’t matter. He’d be stupid for Marin Lassiter. He’d been that way his whole life anyway. Why change now?

Mind racing at a hundred miles an hour, he followed her into her room and stood there as she dropped her purse and turned to look at him. Arms folded across her chest, she stared at him and it hit him that he’d never seen her look vulnerable.

It made him want to pull her against him and protect her from the whole damn world.

It also made any lingering anger he felt drain away.

He’d been stupid drunk. She’d been there for him—
again
.

And things had . . . happened.

Now they were going to have a baby. Maybe if he was lucky she even felt something for him.

He took a step toward her.

Marin lifted her chin.

It made him smile and that made
her
narrow her eyes. She had the most stubborn chin. Coming to a stop in front of her, he reached up, fisting his hand around her braid and tugging. When her head went back, he pressed his lips to her chin, then skimmed down lower.

Marin held herself still.

Since she wasn’t arguing, he decided to move lower still.

She’d pulled on an oversized men’s dress shirt over a tank top and he curled an arm around her waist, steadying her as he went lower, his lips tracing the lacy edge of the tank.

Her hands went to his hair. “Sebastien, what are you . . .”

The words trailed away when he cupped her breast in his hands. “You’re already getting bigger.”

“I know.”

Lifting his head, he stared into her flushed face. “I want to see you.”

“I was half-naked in front of you and the crew for most of the day,” she pointed out.

“That’s work. This is . . .” His gaze dropped lower and he gripped the hem of her shirt. “I want to see you.”

After a few seconds, she shrugged out of the dress shirt. But when she went to pull the tank top off, he took over. All day, she’d worn that sexy, alluring underwear, designed to tempt a man to insanity. Now she was basic black and Sebastien didn’t think he’d ever seen anything quite so enticing.

And she was bigger, her breasts so full, they were straining the cups of the bra.

When he freed the front clasp, she made a soft noise in the back of her throat.

His eyes shot to hers. “Okay?”

“Ah . . . yeah.” She licked her lips and he leaned in, rubbing his mouth against hers. “I just . . . Why aren’t we talking?”

“We are talking.”

“You’re working on getting me naked. That’s a different kind of talking and we both know it.” Her hands gripped his shoulders, tightening as he went to his knees and pressed a kiss to her belly.

“True. I just . . .” Sebastien pressed his mouth to her belly again. Marin was slim. Hollywood pretty much dictated it, but she’d been blessed with a long, slender frame anyway. Her belly was still flat, but under his mouth, he was almost positive that there was a firmness that hadn’t been there before. “You’re pregnant. My baby is growing inside you.”

Slowly, he lifted his eyes upward and stared at her.

Marin’s lips parted on a shaky sigh and she nodded. “I guess . . . well, you don’t look mad about it.”

“Mad . . .” Sebastien stood up and pulled her against him. Her lower body tucked in tight against his cock. “Well, I guess it would all depend on your definition of the word. Mad, desperate, insane . . . if that’s the usage you’re going with? Maybe I am mad.”

He rubbed his cheek against hers, breathing in the scent of her.

Her fingers curled into his shirt, drawing him closer, although there just wasn’t any way he could get as close as he wanted to be, as he needed to be. Not unless she was naked and he was inside her and she was clinging to him, as desperate and driven as he felt.

“But angry . . . no.” He caught her lower lip, tugged. “I’m not angry. I’m a lot of things but that’s not what I am now. Maybe earlier, but not now.”

“What are you?” Her voice shuddered, trembling.

“I don’t think it’s possible to explain that in words.” He picked her up then and carried her over to the table—it was the nearest flat surface. Her breasts lifted for him, the cups of the bra falling to the side. He caught the straps and smoothed them down, out of the way. There were faint red marks under her breasts from the band and he kissed them. At the same time, he splayed his hand over her belly. “I can’t really explain how I’m feeling. I know I’m excited. Happy. And I know what I want.”

“And what is that?” Her voice broke into a whisper and she stared at him, almost afraid to ask.

“This . . .” He rubbed a slow circle over her belly. “I want this.” He pressed a kiss to her chest, just above her heart. “And this.”

He came back up over her and kissed her mouth. “This. All of you . . . the baby. Everything. Can I have you, Marin?”

Her response was to reach for him.

It wasn’t the
yes
he’d been hoping for, but for now, he’d take it.

Her skin felt almost feverish against his, shockingly hot. Her eyes burned hot, bright. “Are we really doing this?” she asked.

“Unless you tell me to stop.”

Marin closed her eyes, her lashes laying against her cheeks. “I should. We never . . . We haven’t talked.”

“We will. Do you want me to stop?”

“Hell, no. You’re just plain bad for me, Sebastien . . . and I can’t find it in me to care.”

Rolling to his back, he pulled her on top of him, sliding his hands up so that he cupped her breasts. “I don’t have to be bad.” He didn’t want to be
bad
for her.

She bent low over him, her breasts like an offering now and he rose up, catching one tight nipple between his teeth. She made a low, hungry noise and arched against him. The pressure against his cock was almost enough to make his eyes cross, and then she started to move, finding a rhythm that might drive him to embarrass himself if he wasn’t careful.

It drove him mad, made him want to grab her and flip her over, strip her naked and come inside her—

Swearing, he gripped her hips and arched up, grinding against her.

Marin whimpered and met his movements. He thought maybe he could feel the heat of her through all her layers of clothing.

“Naked,” he said, mental powers reduced down to the absolute basics. “You need to be naked.”

She blinked down at him.

Another slow blink when he shifted their positions again, tucking her back under him. He pushed onto his knees and reached for the button of her jeans, looking into her eyes. Her lashes swept low for a few seconds, but then she looked straight back at him. When he started to tug her jeans down, she lifted her hips to help, and then she sat up, grabbing the hem of his shirt and dragging it upward.

Sebastien hissed as she leaned forward, her mouth hot and open. She dragged her lips from his heart and began to move them, going to her knees as she skimmed her mouth toward his neck before continuing on. Her hands dipped into his hair as she kissed him, her tongue tangling with his, the taste of her a sweet, hot glimpse into paradise.

She tugged at his jeans.

Impatient, he went to deal with it, but she slapped his hands away. “Mine,” she said, her voice husky.

Well. He was okay with that.

It was the truth anyway, even if she didn’t realize that. Everything about him was hers.

“You make my brain melt.” He managed to keep his voice easy and calm as he said it, although his fingers shook a little as he cupped her face. Her eyes were hazy, hot with need. She focused on his face and the smile that curled her lips was enough to make a saint weep.

That lovely face . . . she could have played Helen of Troy—she might have
been
Helen of Troy. Beautiful beyond words, but Sebastien’s obsession with Marin Lassiter wasn’t because she was beautiful.

Beauty alone wasn’t enough to trip him up. He was surrounded by beautiful women and he knew how shallow that beauty could be. Marin might have been beautiful, but that wasn’t what had him ready to go to his knees in front of her.

Slowly, he slid one hand down the midline of her torso, staring into her eyes as he cupped her in his hand. Wet heat greeted him. Parting her slick folds with one finger, he caught the broken moan that fell from her on his lips. She moved against his hand, her nails digging into his shoulders as the rhythm of her body became more demanding.

She was slippery and tight and the thought of feeling her around him was enough to make him crazy. She closed her fingers around his cock and he growled. Wrenching her hand away, he tumbled her onto her back and shoved his jeans down, freeing himself. He settled between her thighs and cupped her face in his hands. “This isn’t the last time, Marin.”

A shaky breath left her.

“It’s not.” Sebastien licked at the entrance to her mouth before he continued. “I want to lay between your thighs and eat you up like candy, and then I want to start all over again.”

Her face went pink. Sebastien pretended not to notice as he bit her lower lip, tugging gently. “How do you feel about that?”