Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(64)

Had she thought about how she’d felt?

She’d known how she felt especially after a few days and the time to think it all through. She wanted the baby, was more excited about him, was more excited than she could ever recall being about anything.

“I was . . . happy.” The smile came unbidden. She looked toward his face, realizing her eyes had adjusted well enough that she could see him despite the dim light that filtered in. “I am happy. I . . . well, I haven’t told my folks yet, but I know they’ll be happy, too.”

He put his hands on her belly and started to rub in slow circles.

She turned her face toward his. “What about you?”

Sebastien didn’t know how to put what he was feeling into words. He’d never been particularly good when it came to explaining himself. He could make a character come alive; people who didn’t even exist—well, he could make those people relatable to millions of viewers. But one on one? When it came to things that mattered? He knew how to be charming in interviews and he knew how to say the things people wanted to hear, but all of that was shallow shit.

How could he tell Marin that he’d spent the past couple of months reading up about babies and pregnancy and that he could tell that sometimes her back bothered her already and he knew she wasn’t sleeping too great lately? Well, he could tell her but he’d sound like a f*cking stalker.

Uncertain, he flattened his hand over her belly and slid his eyes up to her face. “I told you earlier. I don’t think words can cover what I’m feeling.”

Faint light from the narrow slit in the curtains fell across her face and he could just make out her eyes. A faint smile curled her lips and she moved in closer. As she snuggled up against him, he tucked her head under his chin and closed his eyes.

They could make this work.

Damn. He was going to be a dad.

***

Phone calls at four in the morning weren’t welcome. Having somebody knock on the door was slightly less annoying, but only slightly. Marin was still trying to knuckle the sleep out of her eyes when she realized Sebastien was already at the door, speaking to somebody in a low voice.

She forced herself upright and grabbed her robe from the foot of her bed, slipping into it just as he closed the door.

“What was that?”

“Somebody from the front desk.” He came toward her and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her in close.

Heat pierced the fog of sleep as he untied the belt and slid his hands around her waist, drawing her in closer.

“What’d they want?” She was trying to focus and he was busy trying to distract her.

“Message from Sojo. We’ve got the next four days off.” The words were spoken against her belly and she caught her breath as he went lower, his tongue coming out to stab at her clit through her curls.

Message . . . dimly, she realized there was probably more to that message than he’d relayed.

Then he circled his tongue around her clit and the ability to think just sort of faded away. Her knees went weak and he caught her, easing her back onto the bed. He came up over her and kissed her, the taste of her mingling with the taste of him and she moaned. She reached for him, her fingers digging into the heavy ridge of muscle at his back.

Denim rubbed against her thighs and she pulled back from his kiss long enough to ask, “Why are you wearing clothes?”

“Because I try to avoid answering doors naked.” There was a laugh in his voice but it was gone in an instant as she reached between them and tore at the opening of his jeans.

She had his cock in her hand in seconds and when she stroked up, then down, Sebastien muttered her name, voice low and rough. When she repeated the caress, he shoved himself into her palm, reaching between them to cover her hand with his, tightening her grip.

He braced his weight on his free elbow, lifting up to stare at her, the blue-green of his eyes locking with hers.

She passed her thumb over the head of his cock, felt the dampness seeping out.

He stopped with a snarl and nudged her thighs wide. “Now.”

“You’re the one who stopped to get dressed,” she reminded him. She might have said something else, but he was inside her in the next moment and the only noise she was capable of making was a long, wordless keen of hunger.

She moaned as he pulled out and surged back in, each dig of his hips taking him deeper and deeper. Marin couldn’t even tell where he ended and she began, but she knew that he still wasn’t close enough. Clutching him to her, she sank her teeth into his ear and gasped out his name. His cock swelled inside her, big, thicker. It was too much.

Her climax seemed to open up under her, swallowing her whole.

It wracked her entire body, spasms that left her shuddering and twisting against him. When it ended, she was so drained, she couldn’t even move. One hand slid off his back to smack bonelessly against the floor.

Sebastien said something to her, but the words didn’t make much sense. She was already half-asleep.





Chapter Seventeen




Her first thought was that she’d overslept.

Sunlight was coming in through the curtains and she knew that wasn’t right. She was supposed to have been on set when the sun came up, so if the sun was up . . .

She jerked upright and saw Sebastien tucking something into somebody’s hand—money, her mind filed away—while two others bustled around, setting up breakfast. Her belly grumbled, particularly at the smell of bacon.