Page 49 of Sebastian's Secret
“Berrunti’s then?” The Italian bistro was one of the Vaughn brother’s favorite daytime hangouts when they had to go into the city. “Message me when you’re done.”
“Good plan.” Balthazar smiled. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Chapter Twenty
Rebecca
Rebecca awoke to the sound of a songbird, its chirpy lyrics disturbing her thinning sleep until she rolled toward the window. She didn’t want to be disrupted though. Not by her upbeat new friend, nor the soft light streaming in from beyond the pane, so she kept her eyes closed, her mind drifting to the erotic dreams she’d been enjoying. Flesh on flesh followed by the warmth of unexpected intimacy.
Clenching the muscles between her legs, she mewled at the unspoken ache there. That was what she needed, an actual man to deliver the heat and affection she imagined, a man with hard lines and kind eyes who smelt like… Hesitating, her brows knitted.
What’s that scent I like?
The answer burst into her head.
Cinnamon.
Yes, that was it! The aroma of spice and sweat was incredible, and Rebecca had always adored it. Snuggling into the sheets, she focused on the alluring thought, aware suddenly that the exact fragrance was evident on the bedding.
That’s ridiculous.
But the longer she breathed in the smell, the more convinced she became. The bed sheets were perfumed with earth and cinnamon—just like the man from her sordid dreams.
Eyes fluttering open, she registered the hard, monochrome colors and expensive looking artwork on the wall, realizing in a second that the room wasn’t hers.
Where am I?
Sitting bolt upright in the bed, it took a couple of seconds for the answer to come to her.
Sebastian.
Her heart pounded as a thousand shards of memory returned in an instant, and she recalled what had transpired. It hadn’t been a dream. Every decadent and debauched thing Rebecca thought she’d conjured from her subconscious had actually really happened.
“Oh, God.”
Heat flamed in her face as her memory crawled over each excruciating detail of the evening—the spanking which explained why sitting was uncomfortable, the way he’d tied and insisted on making her come—and worse, her unsolicited confession.
“What was I thinking?” she gasped, ignoring the nagging ache of her ass cheeks and squeezing herself into a ball on the bed. “I told him everything.”
That wasn’t strictly true. There were plenty of Monroe family secrets Rebecca hadn’t shared, but it did little to assuage her concerns. She’d still told Sebastian enough, more than she’d ever conveyed to anyone before. More than anyone knew about her family. Her father would be livid if he found out.
“He can’t find out,” she decided aloud, although there didn’t seem to be anyone there to hear her.
Where’s Sebastian?
Glancing at the empty pillow beside her, she spotted a folded note sat on top of it. Her gaze scanned the handwritten name scrawled on the paper.
Rebecca.
Her instinct told her to read the note. It was bound to be from him with an easy explanation for many of her questions, but reaching for it, she concluded that she’d already ceded way too much to the handsome man. What if he tells someone? Her paranoia was as uncalled for as it was neurotic, but it gripped at her nonetheless, calling the shots and insisting she withdraw her hand. Pausing, she glanced in the opposite direction and instead, grasped for her phone.
The fifteen missed calls she discovered there only knotted the tension in her tummy and fleetingly, she was thankful that she’d had the foresight to switch her device to silent mode. Five of the missed calls were from her mother—which was bad enough—but a further ten were from her father. That was not good news. When Jonas Monroe was angry, his wrath only grew into something larger and even nastier.
If that was possible.
Shivering at the prospect, she skipped into her inbox. At least he didn’t know where she was. She’d switched off her phone’s location years ago. That was some consolation, but the litany of vile waiting messages only intensified her alarm.
Where are you?