The Billionaire Takes a Bride (Billionaires and Bridesmaids, #3)(36)

“It looks like you’re jerking off to The Notebook,” she commented, unsure if this was funny or hurtful. Right now she was going for funny.

“God no,” he said. “I just . . . need a moment. Can you close the door?”

“No!”

“What, are you going to watch?” He continued to stroke himself.

“What?” Her jaw dropped. “You . . . you want me to watch?”

Sebastian’s mouth flattened. “Well, I could pretend that I’m turned on by that stupid-ass movie, but my cock will deflate at the thought. I just . . . needed a moment to myself.”

Her heart fluttered. “Because of . . . me?”

He gave her an exasperated look. “Seriously? You have to ask? Shut the door already. Let a man finish in silence.”

“But—”

“Damn it, Chelsea, let’s not do this, all right?” He released his cock and hitched his pants up, heading for the door. “Either get the f*ck out or—” He stopped himself.

She squeaked and shut the door quickly, then raced down the stairs. Her heart was hammering.

Get the f*ck out or . . .

Or what? Or help? But . . . they were supposed to be just friends, weren’t they?

She returned to the sofa, her stomach churning. His sketch pad was still in her hand, and for some reason the drawings weren’t important at the moment. She tossed it back aside and curled up on her end of the couch, her thoughts a tangled mess.

She was an idiot, wasn’t she? All this time she was cuddling up to a handsome, sexy guy and assumed he didn’t want sex, either. Of course he wanted sex. He just didn’t want the issues that came with a relationship.

Which meant that he didn’t want her, because why else marry her?

And really that should have been a relief, but it just made her feel more confused and hurt. Did he think she was . . . dirty because of what she’d told him?

She didn’t know what to think. She wrung her hands unhappily and waited for him to come down the stairs.

Just like that, her happy, content bubble vanished again. Why on earth had they thought this would ever work?

He came back downstairs several minutes later, clothes tucked in and neatly back to normal. His hair was perfectly in place, and her face grew red, thinking about the visual of him gripping his cock and stroking it, and her catching him.

This was so awkward. Everything was going to be different now, she just knew it. She wanted to cry. She’d found a guy she felt safe with, and felt like there were no demands. Now that was gone.

He sat down heavily on the couch next to her and rubbed his face, not saying anything.

Chelsea glanced down at his pants. Had he . . . ?

“If you’re wondering, no. It killed my hard-on pretty fast to watch you run away like that.” He glanced over at her, unsmiling. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I’ve been trying to be discreet.”

It felt like there was a knot in her throat. “So this has been happening often?”

He was silent for a moment, then looked over at her. “I really thought I could do this. That I could be platonic and not an *. And then you had to catch me in the worst way possible.” He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry this isn’t what you needed, but I can’t do a platonic marriage. I knew I was in over my head after that kiss—”

“The kiss?” She cocked her head, curious. “What kiss? In the airport?”

“No, in the library, when we first agreed to this.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait. You knew then that you couldn’t be platonic but you still wanted to give this a shot?”

“It seemed like the perfect solution to our problems, didn’t it?” He gave her a look that was full of self-loathing. “Too bad I can’t stop thinking with my cock. I was hoping that at some point maybe you’d come to be attracted to me, too. That maybe we could move forward if I was patient. And then after you told me . . .” He shook his head. “Well, just shows that I’m stupid.”

Hot tears filled her eyes then. “And you stopped being attracted to me because I was raped?”

Sebastian gave her a look of shock. “What? God, no. Not that.” He pulled her against him and began to rub her back, comforting her. “If anything, it made me more attracted to you because you’re so f*cking strong. But I’d feel like the biggest dick in the world if I tried to put the moves on you after promising you we’d be utterly platonic. I can’t do that to you. Not when you want nothing more than to be safe.”

It felt so good to be held against him, to snuggle and be comforted. This was what a boyfriend would do for her, she realized. And she was getting everything she wanted out of their relationship . . . and he wasn’t.

She was the one being unfair. And yet . . . “I don’t know if I told you, Sebastian. But . . . after my incident, I had to compartmentalize a lot of how I was feeling so I could function. And a lot of my sexuality went away.”

He rubbed her shoulder. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Chelsea.”

“I wish I could be how you wanted me to be,” she told him, sad. “I want to. I really do. But that part of me is dead. I wasn’t a virgin when it happened. I’d had sex before, and it was fine.” She’d even orgasmed a few times, though it depended on her partner. She loved—and missed—kissing most of all, though. God, she’d loved kissing once upon a time. “But ever since the attack, I can’t even look at a guy in that way. That part of me is dead, Sebastian. And you deserve someone that’s going to be able to give you what you need.”