Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Fucking adorable.”
I groaned. “Adorable until I couldn’t get them the fuck out of there,” I said. “The second I approached, they scattered. Hid in every damn corner of the cabin, and they were fast, Sebastian. You don’t even know how fast they are until you try to catch one, let alone five.”
He laughed, covering his mouth with a hand. “Sorry. Not laughing at you.”
“Laugh away,” I said. “I was after them for about an hour when I got sick of it. I took the rest of the bread loaf, put it outside near the open window, and got the hell out of the cabin. When I found the snowbank outside, I lay down in it to get some rest, and…”
“And immediately whipped out your cock and started jerking it?”
“You’re impossible,” I told him, but I couldn’t keep a smile off my face. “No. I rested my eyes for a while, and when I woke up, I was cold, but cozy. And morning wood doesn’t just happen first thing in the morning.”
“Believe me, I know,” he said.
“So I had… midmorning nap wood, I guess.”
“You know, I’ve jerked off in some ridiculous places over the years, but a snowbank isn’t one of them,” Sebastian said. “The roof of this castle, the basement of this castle, the back of my car when no one else was in it, one time I even went out and did it in a cluster of pine trees in the middle of the night.”
“You really are a box of secrets, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Only person I’d tell them to is you,” he said simply.
My blood felt warm now. The scotch was incredible, and over the course of our short conversation I’d somehow accidentally slipped into feeling really, really good.
“What do they make this with? Crushed up feel-good drugs?” I asked, swirling the scotch and taking another sip.
“No need,” he said. “It’s good enough on its own.”
“Sorry you had to waste your wedding-night scotch on me,” I said. “But I’m glad you did.”
“It’s not a waste,” he said, watching me. “I don’t know if I’m going to get married, anyway.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” he said. “I know it’s inevitable, of course. But at the same time… I just can’t picture it. It feels so foreign to me, or something.”
“You picture yourself as a bachelor prince forever?”
He glanced down at the floor, chewing the inside of his cheek. “I picture all sorts of things.”
I was afraid to ask what he meant by that. I couldn’t stop staring at the crook of his neck, his milky smooth skin peeking out of his collar.
He looked like a damn Renaissance painting. Lounging by the golden glow of the fireplace, lazily clutching his glass of scotch, his eyelashes two long, dark rows as he stared downward.
“Sebastian,” I said, my voice coming out low and quiet.
“Hmm?” he said, his eyes lifting to meet mine.
“Why do you do all this for me?” I asked.
“You’re my guest.”
“Right,” I said, “I guess this is how you treat all your guests.”
He let out a slow breath. “You know that isn’t true.”
I bit my lower lip, watching him, unable to take my eyes off of him. Why did he have to look so good, all of the time? It would all have been so much easier if Sebastian didn’t look like some sort of dark, fallen angel. If his eyes didn’t hold so much hope and pain and feeling.
It would all be so much easier if I didn’t know exactly how good his body felt when it was near mine.
The leather chair was absurdly comfortable. Too comfortable. I felt like it was swallowing me up, suddenly. Melting my brain into a state of over-relaxation, where I was liable to say things I shouldn’t say.
Or maybe it was the alcohol. It definitely couldn’t be helping.
I took in a sharp breath of air, standing up quickly and moving toward the far side of the room, lined with windows that led out toward the balcony. The air was cooler and refreshing, but it did nothing to stop the feeling I had that Sebastian’s eyes were burning into the back of my body.
I could feel him watching me. And I hated how much I fucking loved that.
I spun around and his eyes flitted up to meet mine.
“So why, then?” I pressed. “Why do all this for me? Why do this when you know I can’t be a part of your life? When you refuse to give up your duties as prince?”
He swallowed, pausing for a moment. He opened his mouth twice as if he was going to speak, but didn’t know how to do it.
I sighed, shaking my head. “I’m sorry,” I said. “You don’t have to answer that—”
“Because I’m still completely in love with you, Henry.”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I swallowed and my throat was dry. “You can’t be,” I said.