The Billionaire Takes a Bride (Billionaires and Bridesmaids,(77)

She liked it better, too.

He had a rented sedan and a driver waiting out in the street, and she got into the car with him and immediately texted Pisa a message.

Chesty: Having hot nasty reunion sex with my husband at your place. Consider this notification as a virtual sock on the door.

Not that Pisa would see it until after the bout. She also texted Drew a quick message as to where she’d gone, and to not wait for her. Then, she flung her arms around Sebastian’s neck and kissed him again.

Because, really, she could kiss him while waiting for her gear, couldn’t she? She could.

He hauled her against him and kissed her hard, and even though she was expecting to feel nothing, she felt a prickle of arousal move through her. This was Sebastian, with his warm skin and familiar mouth, and the spicy scent of the soap she made for him touching her nose. He was safe, and it was okay to let go with him.

He had her back.

And so she experimented with small kisses, her lips playing against his. Soft nibbles, flicks of her tongue, and sometimes just pressing her mouth against his. As long as it kept her in contact with Sebastian, it felt good and right, and she didn’t hate it.

She kind of liked it, actually. It wasn’t the blazing inferno of emotion she felt when she had her uniform on, but it was a nice little spark.

She was happy about that spark. It meant that she could keep improving in the future. It might take her years before she wouldn’t have to make love to her husband with her skates on, but she felt it was possible.

And hope was a wonderful, wonderful thing.

Then again, so was touching Sebastian.

By the time they made it to Pisa’s apartment downtown, Chelsea was more than ready to get out of the car and get changed. Her entire body felt alive, her pulse throbbing with excitement. It had been far too long since she’d felt Sebastian’s body against hers, and she wanted that again. She took his hand and all but tugged him out of the car, eager and aroused.

“Should I tell the driver to wait?” Sebastian asked her as she pulled out her keys.

“Hell, no. Tell him you’ll call when we want to go back to the hotel. Pisa’s bout won’t be over for a few more hours.”

Sebastian grinned and leaned down to the driver’s side door and spoke to the driver. He tapped the door when he was done and stood again, and the window rolled up. The driver pulled away and then Sebastian was all hers again.

She put her hand out for him to take, and he did, and then she all but raced up the stairs, keys in hand.

Pisa was on the second floor of a town house setup, and inside the apartment was most of the furniture they’d had at the old place, since it was Pisa’s anyhow. There was the enormous low-backed sofa. There was the coffee table, the dining room table with the scratches on it from Chelsea’s soap-making experiments gone wrong. There were the art-deco posters of roller derby that she’d given Pisa for Christmas last year that gave a fun, kitschy vibe to the apartment.

And of course, if Sebastian moved into the apartment and peeked over the edge of the sofa, he’d see Chelsea’s nest of blankets, pillows, DVDs, and empty pretzel bags.

Definitely not on the same level as Sebastian’s cool, chic town house in NYC.

She immediately felt bad and started to straighten up, picking up things and adjusting pillows. “Pisa’s place isn’t normally a mess like this. I’m slobbing her up, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t care how it looks,” he said, taking a throw pillow from her hands and setting it back down on the couch. “I’m not here to judge her decor or to even see her. I’m here to see you. To bring you home with me, if you’ll come.”

“I want to come,” she said eagerly, and then blushed when she realized what it sounded like. “That way, too.”

“Then get your derby gear on, baby.” He grinned and his hands went to her shirt. “Or do you need help changing?”

“I know how to put it on,” she said, laughing. She batted his hands away. “Or is this you asking for a striptease?”

“I wouldn’t say no.” His hands moved to her hips again. “As long as I get to touch.”

She slid away. “Once the uniform is on, you can.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Show me where you want me. You’re in charge.”

Chelsea bit her lip and then looked around the tiny living room. There wasn’t a lot of room in front of the couch, what with the coffee table and all. And they were probably going to move to the bed anyhow, once she got her groove on. Although, she had been sleeping on the couch . . . Well, she’d figure that out later. She put her hands on Sebastian’s arms and backed him up a few feet, so he was between the door and the sofa. “You stay right there. You can look but don’t touch.”

He grinned and gestured at her. “Show me what you’ve got, then.”

She lifted a finger, indicating that he should wait there, then grabbed her bag from the hall closet she’d been stashing it in to keep it out of the way. Pisa’s apartment was a one-bedroom and there wasn’t room for Chelsea to stay, really. Not that it had stopped Pisa from opening her home to her friend, and for that, Chelsea would have happily slept on the floor. She unzipped her bag and then left it at her feet.

Then she looked up at Sebastian. His arms were crossed, but there was a smile of amusement and pleasure on his face as he watched her. There was so much affection—love and lust—in his gaze that it made her ache, and she had to fight back happy tears again.