Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(33)

And damn, did he want to kiss her.

More than he wanted his next breath.

He wanted a real kiss.

Not a stage kiss, not something done for publicity.

He wanted a kiss that was his—theirs.

Another one—

Another?

That thought settled uneasily in his head as she tipped her head back to stare at him.

“What are you . . .” Marin’s words trailed away as he eased his hand closer, close enough that he could stroke his thumb across her thigh.

A shuddering breath escaped her and her hands inched higher while her head fell back.

The heavy fringe of her lashes swept down and he could see only a thin rim of blue now. When she licked her lips, he knew he was a f*cking goner.

Slowly, he lowered his head, still watching her. Watching, waiting, ready for her to pull away.

But she didn’t move.

Not at all.

Even when he slid his tongue across her lower lip.

She tasted like mangos and a fruit he’d never particularly cared for suddenly became one he couldn’t imagine living without. She tasted exactly the way he’d always dreamed she would—

Dumb-ass. You’ve kissed her before. On set, hundreds of times.

Except stage kisses weren’t like real kisses. Not even close. So why did this feel so familiar?

It didn’t make sense, but he didn’t care. Sebastien kissed her again, teasing the entrance of her mouth. When she opened on a sigh, he slid his arm around her lower waist and pulled her in closer.

Her thin top provided little barrier between them but it felt like too much. He would have stripped it away if he wasn’t certain that any wrong move might shatter this insane spell.

As it turned out, it wasn’t movement that caused it.

It was the damn phone.

“I’m going to get rid of it,” he muttered, moving his lips along her jawline, skimming his way up to catch her earlobe. He bit gently as the phone rang a second time.

Marin made a low, hungry sound in her throat and uncrossed her legs, wiggling in closer. By the time the phone rang a third time, she was hugging him with one knee on either side of his hips and Sebastien was ready to rip the damn phone out of the wall.

He laid his hands on Marin’s thighs, started to slide them up under the hem of that ridiculous temptation of a skirt, but the phone had gone to voice mail and he heard his own voice saying, “It’s me. Go.”

And then . . . Dash. “Hey . . . it’s Dash. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to get a drink or just . . . I dunno. We could take a drive or maybe go for a hike or something, like we used to do. It was good seeing you the other day. Your friends miss you. Gimme a call, man.”

The sound of that voice was a cold splash of reality.

Jerking back, he stared down at Marin.

She was doing the same, her expression going tight as she slowly eased her skirt back down.

Her eyes flicked in the direction of the phone before returning to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging his hand down his face. Guilt slammed into him and he spun away. Sebastien could be a selfish bastard—the past year proved that—but one thing he’d never been was a poacher. If a woman was involved with somebody, then that woman was off limits and he was about ready to put his hands all over Marin.

In fact, if Dash hadn’t called . . .

“How serious are you?” he demanded, staring at the floor.

“Sebastien—”

“How serious?” He spun back around, raising his voice without intending to.

Marin didn’t flinch, though. She lifted her chin, shoulders going back. “I’ve already discussed this. We had a date. We have another planned. I like him. He’s fun.” Then, eyes narrowing to slits, she added, “He doesn’t turn into a pissed-off grizzly when somebody doesn’t bow down and act the way he wants them to act.”

Sebastien almost snarled, but the bear comment—one of several—hit home and he just clenched his jaw.

“Maybe you should go.”

“I came here to talk to you.” Marin slid off the counter, one hand going to smooth her skirt down, while the other absently went up to smooth her hair.

That was a Hollywood queen for you, he thought. She always knew how to look her best, without even trying. “Yeah, because we’ve done so much talking—you coming into my bedroom while I was taking a shower.”

She went red. “You didn’t close the door, you overgrown moron. I was talking to your mother when I came in and I didn’t realize until . . .”

“Until what?” He came closer and lowered his face until he could breathe her in once more. “Until you saw me there, jacking off while I had the scent of you in my head and the thought of how you might taste burning a hole in me?”

Marin’s eyes went opaque and it took everything he had not to reach for her and finish what they’d started.

“You,” she said, voice shaking, “are a jackass. It was an accident.”

“Yeah? How long did you stand there?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. While she stood there gaping, Sebastien struggled with the hunger inside him and wondered how he’d ever manage to be around her again without it destroying them both. Finally, she sputtered out, “It was hardly more than a few seconds. For goodness sake, Sebastien. You act like we’ve never seen each other naked. It’s not like I don’t know you have a dick.”