Page 105 of Branded

“I’ve perfected it over years of practice.” He squeezes my hand. “But seriously. What do you need right now?”

What do I need?

I look at him, this complicated, damaged man who bought me at an auction but is trying so hard to be better. Who flew to Montana knowing my father would see through any story we weaved. Who worked the ranch for a full day to prove himself worthy. Who gave me the option to stay and meant it.

“I need…” I stop, trying to articulate it. “I need to not feel like I’m leaving my family behind. Like I’m choosing you over them.”

“You’re not. You can have both.” He shifts to face me more fully. “Lennox, I don’t want you to choose between your family and me. I want you to have everything you need to be happy. Including them.”

“That’s…” My throat tightens. “That’s really different from how this started.”

“I know.” His free hand comes up to cup my face. “Is it working? Even a little?”

“Yes. It’s working.”

He kisses me, softly at first, building in intensity—not demanding, but honest. A connection between two people trying to figure out how to be together.

“Come here,” Sebastian says, his voice husky. “I want you closer.”

I move to straddle his lap.

His hands immediately go to my hips, holding me steady.

“Better,” he murmurs, looking up at me. “Much better. I miss you. Even when we were in the same house I missed you, and then I didn’t realize how much I needed to have you around until you were gone.” His hands slide up my sides. “Waking up without you. Eating my meals alone. Coming home to an empty house. I hated all of it.”

“You had your family.”

“It’s not the same. They’re not you.” He pulls me closer until our faces are inches apart. “You’ve gotten under my skin, Lennox Drake. And I don’t know what to do about it except try to be worthy of you coming home to me.”

The honesty in his voice makes my chest ache. “You’re making this really hard.”

“Making what hard?”

“Keeping my emotional distance. Protecting myself from getting too attached.” I run my hands through his hair. “You keep being vulnerable and real. It’s confusing as hell.”

“Good. I want you confused, off-balance, thinking about me as much as I think about you.” His hands tighten on my hips. “I want you to forget, just for a while, about contracts and obligations and all the reasons this shouldn’t work.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“Like this.” He kisses me again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against mine, making heat pool low in my belly.

I lose myself in the kiss. In him. In the feeling of being wanted, of genuinely sharing this connection.

His hands slide under my shirt, warm against my skin, and I gasp into his mouth.

“Too much?” he asks, pulling back slightly.

“No. Not enough.” I grab his face and kiss him harder. “I need, God, I don’t know what I need.”

“I do.” He stands, carrying me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist. Sebastian carries me to the private room and kicks the door closed behind us, before laying me on the bed.

“We’re on a plane,” I say as I pull him down with me.

“A private plane,” he says, like that explains everything. “That I own. Where no one’s going to interrupt us for three hours.” He settles between my legs, his weight perfect and grounding. “Unless you want me to stop.”

“Don’t stop.” I pull his shirt over his head, needing to feel his skin against mine. “Don’t you dare stop.”

His mouth is on my neck and I stop thinking about where we are entirely. His teeth graze my pulse point and I gasp and his hands are already moving—up my sides, taking my shirt with them, pulling it over my head and sending it somewhere neither of us cares about. He looks at me for a moment, chest bare, jaw tight, and the way he stares at me makes me feel like the only thing in the world worth his time.