Reckless In Love (The Maverick Billionaires #2)(55)

“Hmm,” was all she said, the taut skin on her face hardly moving around the small sound.

Thankfully, Walt quickly moved them on through the sea of faces. It was more than a little exhausting for Charlie to chitchat with so many new people, trying to remember as many names as possible, but Sebastian was clearly in his element. What’s more, he seemed to know everyone, asking about their latest project or triumph, about their kids. She was continually amazed at his skill in turning people’s compliments back around to their achievements rather than his own.

Even more amazing? Between Sebastian and Walt talking up her artwork, people were literally throwing commissions at her. A garden in Woodside, a fountain in Atherton, a gazebo on Nob Hill, a condo in Palm Springs, all of which desperately needed a piece by Charlie Ballard.

It was thrilling. At least, it should have been, because taking all these jobs meant she’d never have to worry about her mother again. But twenty-four hours a day wouldn’t be enough time to create all of these designs. Already she was doing rapid-fire calculations in her head to figure out what she could give up to make it work.

Worse, she couldn’t shake the thought that Sebastian’s peers were offering her commissions simply to make points with him.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian asked when they finally had a few seconds to themselves.

She couldn’t admit she was panicking again. Not when he’d handed her everything on a silver platter. She couldn’t fathom how he did it—be on like this for hours, schmoozing, prowling, moving, talking, constantly at attention. It seemed to energize him. But it would drive her insane.

“Everyone is being so complimentary and friendly.” She lifted one foot to take the pressure off for one precious moment. “I’m just not used to wearing heels.”

He tangled his fingers in the hair at her nape. “I should have been paying better attention to you.”

“You have been.” She smiled at him. “No one has ever been so attentive.”

“I can do even better,” he promised as he slid a finger seductively along the waist of her skirt, sliding down to caress the sensitive skin of her lower back as they slipped away from the group. “Let’s start by getting you another glass of champagne and some food.” Sebastian picked up a plate, his lips close to her ear as he whispered, “Tell me what you want.”

His arms molded her tightly to his body, and she felt every muscle, every ridge against her more delicate frame. She was hot, liquid, and crazy for him. And one desire after another whizzed through her head.

A great big bite of you.

A long sip of your lips.

Your heat against me.

Inside of me.

She’d worried earlier about people thinking their attraction was the reason Sebastian supported her art. Now, though she heard voices, the clink of plates, the splash of drinks into glasses, she simply didn’t care what anyone else thought. In this moment, there was only Sebastian’s arms around her, his sweet breath in her ear, his soft hair beneath her fingers.

She knew him in ways the people at this party never would, saw things in him other people could never understand. They felt his charisma, but she recognized his inner beauty, the man who cared, the little boy who still needed to help in any way he could.

Charlie had never wanted anything as badly as she wanted Sebastian. More than teaching. More than the money for her mother. More than her art. She wanted all of him. Now. Tonight. No matter what happened after she finished work on the chariot and they went back to their normal lives. Even if it turned out that he preferred the shiny, glittering Charlie she’d unearthed tonight to the dusty, junkyard woman she’d been until this moment.

Tonight, it was time to give in to the recklessness. Time to finally look into his eyes and say, “You. All I want is you.”





CHAPTER TWENTY


Sebastian grabbed Charlie’s hand and all but dragged her to the elevators. The moment the doors closed behind them, he pushed her up against the wall. Imprisoning her wrists above her head in one hand, he took her lips hungrily, devouring her until she moaned and wrapped her leg around his calf.

“I’ve been dreaming about doing this all night.” He roamed her body with his free hand, stroking her smooth, warm skin. Then he dipped his head to lick along her collarbone. “Tasting you. Touching you.”

“Kiss me again. I love how you kiss me.”

God, he was dying to kiss her. Every inch of her skin. But first he needed to know— “Do you believe?” His mouth was drawn to hers like a magnet and he had to taste her even though he hadn’t finished his question. “Do you believe I want you as much—no, a hell of a lot more than I want your art?”

“Yes.” The word came out more breath than sound. “Yes.”

Then her mouth crushed his and, sweet Lord, how he loved the taste of her and the soft purr in her throat as she consumed him with a ferocity equaling his own.

Love. The word he’d always been so wary of. Now it rolled around in his mind as though it belonged. Charlie made him believe that love didn’t have to be the way it had been for his parents.

Love could be like this. Love could fill him up from the inside out. Love could make him crazy with need and crazy with awe.

Tonight had been everything he’d wanted for Charlie—the crowd fawning over her, acknowledging her work as brilliant. She’d stepped into his world, conquered it completely, and was the toast of Silicon Valley.