Deep Autumn Heat (31 page)

She was watching him with both longing and expectation. When he kissed her lips, he felt her lids close, felt her long lashes brush his skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck and
pulled him closer, completely responsive to his touch.

Sebastian reveled in the feeling of her softness giving readily to his hardness. It had been a long time—too long—since he’d last seen her, touched her. Now, faced with the reality of her in his bed, he didn’t know how he’d made it this long without her.

Lexie Meyers was his. He’d claimed her. In front of his whole kitchen, something he’d never done before with any woman.

Lexie opened her mouth to him and he countered by plunging his tongue into her sweet depths. She let out a low moan before adding her own tongue into the mix. He felt her breasts rise and fall, pressing against him more tightly. All of a sudden, the clothes he wore were an encumbrance. He got on his knees, lifting his body away from hers, to get them off.

When she felt his warmth removed from hers, she let out a sound of protest.

“Shh, Spice,” Seb said. “It’ll only take a second. I need to feel you. All of you.”

A moment later Seb’s clothes were on the floor and his warm flesh was pressed against hers. Lexie sighed and wrapped her arms around him again, pulling him tightly into her.

He felt like he’d come home.

A swell of longing filled his chest and an answering pang of desire hit him right in the groin. He’d never needed anyone the way he needed her. With one hand, he cradled her head, weaving his hand through her curls. He rested the other hand on her waist, then let it slip down to cup her softly rounded ass.

She shifted against him, opening her mouth to him, opening her body to him. Sebastian groaned. “Lexie, oh, Lexie,” he said. “I want to give you everything.”

“Everything?” she whispered, confused.

“Yes, everything.” Then he lowered his head to her neck and suckled softly. Slipping one hand between their bodies, he pressed one long finger to her core. Instinctively, he knew she was ready, but he needed to be sure. He was unsurprised when he felt her slick dampness coat his finger. Using her natural wetness as lubrication, he swept his finger up and around her nubbin as he suckled on her breast. She rewarded him with a broken gasp that intensified when he pushed
the same finger into her tight heat.

She was ready. More than ready. In one swift movement, he spread her folds and sank into her waiting depths.

Though she urged him on, he moved slowly, setting the pace to enhance their pleasure. He didn’t want to rush this. Not this. Not with her.

Leisurely, languidly, he gave her pleasure. And with every one of Lexie’s sighs, with each delightful moan, with every heated touch, she gave him pleasure in return. He wanted to prolong this as much as possible. Wanted to make it good for her.

At long last, he felt her shudder, felt the walls of her channel clench around him, and he drove into her, eyes open as her back arched with her own, undeniable climax.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyelids fluttered, and her mouth formed a perfect “o” at the moment of her release.

Watching her come apart in his arms was the most erotic thing Sebastian had ever seen. He closed his eyes and followed after her with a deep groan. Never opening his eyes, he simply tucked her against his side and wrapped his arm around her.

“I love you,” he whispered, right before falling asleep.

* * *

Lexie lay in Sebastian’s bed with her eyes wide open. She should feel utterly sated, drained, and terribly sleepy. But instead of being relaxed, her mind was a frenzy of activity. With his last words, he’d woken her slumbering brain—flicked it on like a switch.

Had she heard what she thought she heard? Had Sebastian actually told her he loved her?

How … shocking.

It was the last thing she’d expected to hear from a man like him. A man who’d surely loved—and left—countless women before her. Had he told them he’d loved them? Had he meant it?

She was overanalyzing this, she knew—the words, the sentiment behind them, and surely the man himself. He’d stated it cleanly and simply in words as old as time. She should be
thrilled. So why was she second-guessing him?

Lexie braved a glance at Sebastian’s slumbering form. He was lying on his side, one arm thrown over her body in a purely possessive gesture. His lips were curved in a smile, even in sleep.

Lexie knew that all of her pondering was meant to avoid the one question she knew she should be asking herself: Should she tell him she loved him, too? How could she, when he’d virtually ignored her for so many weeks?

Of course, after her run with Frank Doherty, she was gun-shy. Anyone but a fool would have been otherwise. She hadn’t even thought about opening her heart to another man, let alone one as dangerous as Sebastian. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d known he would be trouble. And boy was he ever.

When they were making love, she wasn’t thinking about anything but his body and the way he was making her feel. She wasn’t thinking about how she could get hurt. How he had the power to crush her if he wanted. He could do it, easily. But when she was alone, away from him, she couldn’t help but think about how unwise it was to be involved with a man like Sebastian Grayson. It had almost come as a relief when he left Star Harbor. She’d convinced herself it would mean the end of their relationship, and that such a clean break was for the best.

She couldn’t trust herself to love again. It was love that had the power to hurt you, that got in under your skin and made your heart ache and your stomach flutter. It made you confused and scared and needy, made you scream and cry and want to rip your hair out by its roots. Love wrecked everything.

But she loved Sebastian.

She couldn’t help it, and that fact scared her. Badly. If she told him how she felt, he’d want her to stay—to leave her life in Star Harbor and join him in New York. His glittery, fast-paced world was more than tempting. To be a part of his growing empire, to stand by his side as his new show and restaurant launched, would be utterly thrilling.

But the excitement was bound to fade and when it did, she’d be left with nothing. Relying
on herself over the past few years had taught her that she needed—no, craved—the independence of working for herself. She couldn’t slip back into being the woman she once was, and she was afraid—so afraid—that she’d lose herself with Sebastian the way she had lost herself with Frank. She’d vowed never to suppress her own needs, her own desires, for anyone again. Not even for someone she truly loved.

As long as he had kept his feelings to himself, she’d been able to do the same. But he’d said the words, by accident or by design, forcing her to make a decision.

So despite what her heart was saying about Sebastian, Lexie knew that she had no choice. This time she would listen to her head.

Which was telling her quite clearly to run.

Lexie twisted her neck slightly so that she could watch Sebastian’s face while she made her escape. Gently, she took his wrist in her hand. Holding her breath, she slowly, ever so slowly, lifted his heavy arm up just enough for her to slide out from underneath it. With her free hand, she took a cushiony pillow and placed it where her body had been. Then she carefully lowered his arm back down to the pillow.

After a moment, Sebastian sighed and wrapped his arm fully around the pillow, pulling it close. Lexie silently released the breath she’d been holding and backed away from the bed, gathering up her clothes. She dressed in silence, watching him the whole time. He dozed on, oblivious to her furtive actions.

Giving him one last, lingering look—he’d never know how hard this was for her—she backed out of the room and crept down the hall. She knew he’d never hear the click of his front door opening and closing.

Nor would he ever forgive her for leaving him like this.

A soft vibration crept up Lexie’s thigh. She started, then realized it was just her cell phone ringing. Buster had to be psychic, because as she took the phone out to check the incoming number, he gave her a sardonic look that she interpreted as, “What, again?”

Raising an eyebrow at him, she looked down at the phone. She wasn’t surprised to see that it was a 212 area code. New York City.

She sent the call straight into voicemail, popped the phone back into her pocket, and stared defiantly at Buster, who was still watching her. He shook his head slightly, then walked out the back door of the LMK to get something from his truck. Buster knew exactly what she was doing and why, and he made no bones about the fact that he didn’t like it.

Lexie wasn’t kidding herself. She knew who was calling. Who had called every day since she’d left him lying in his apartment with a sleepy smile on his handsome face.

Lexie hadn’t picked up. Not once. And she hadn’t listened to any of his messages, either. Despite the furious blinking of the message light on her cell phone, she hadn’t wavered.

She’d been tempted to waver. Plenty of times. To simply pick up the phone and confess her love. Confess that she was scared beyond belief. But that would be giving him even more power over her. So though she knew she owed him an explanation, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Snatching up a washed and peeled carrot from a large pile, she feverishly began to chop it up into perfect little matchsticks. She was a coward, deeply afraid of what she might say. How she might respond to any entreaties, any pleas, any threats.

No. He’d never threaten her. Not like Frank. But the fact that the thought had even passed through her mind gave her pause. Would she ever get over that psychopath? Would she constantly second-guess any future relationship she might have?

She shook her head and reached for another carrot. As she was chopping it up even more precisely than the first, Buster came through the door. Instead of heading back to the grill room he walked up to her, an urgent look on his face. In his hand was a folded piece of paper.

“Is that what I think it is?” Lexie asked, forcing herself to keep her voice even.

Buster nodded curtly and the familiar mix of dread and disgust welled up in Lexie’s chest. Except this time, she felt a new sensation.

Hope.

Surely the camera had caught the Note Writer on the feed!

“Want me to call Cole?” Buster questioned.

“Absolutely,” she responded. “Right now.”

He nodded again, and stepped outside to use his cell phone. A few minutes later, he returned. “Cole wants us to go down to the station at ten-thirty.”

Lexie tried to go about her business as usual, but the fluttering of excitement in her stomach made it impossible. Through sheer force of will she made it through the breakfast service.

At ten-fifteen, she breathed out a nervous sigh, then put Isis in charge, and she and Buster drove down to the station.

Rhonda Lee greeted them like old friends and ushered them into one of the conference rooms. Lexie had been at the sheriff’s department so often it was utterly familiar, which was strangely comforting. Within moments, Cole joined them.

“Thanks for coming down on such short notice,” Cole said. He gestured to the computer that was set up in the room. “Hank’s pulling the digital video feed now and he’ll be here in a moment with the files we need. We’ll review the footage together. I’m hoping that among the four of us we’ll be able to figure out who’s behind these notes.”

“I just want this done,” Lexie said.

“Me, too. This is the last thing you need on top of everything else that’s been going on. It would be nice to get some closure.”

Lexie sighed just as Hank came into the room carrying a small flash drive. He inserted it into the appropriate USB port on the computer and opened the file, which immediately began to play. The video feed of the LMK’s back door picked up anyone who approached the door from either direction. And the kitchen door opened toward the camera, so each time the door opened they could tell whether or not the note was taped to it yet.

“This feed starts at five
A.M.
, so we’ll have to do some fast forwarding,” Hank said, clicking the play button. “See? Here’s Buster arriving at five-fifteen.”

Lexie watched as Buster appeared on the monitor, barely visible in the dim light from the bulb above the door. Though she couldn’t see his features clearly, his gait was unmistakably his own, and he had on the same dark green military-style jacket he was currently wearing. Briskly, he turned his key in the lock, pulled the door open, and walked through. When the door closed, Buster had vanished, having disappeared inside the LMK.

“Door was clear,” Hank said, noting the absence of a white note. “It wasn’t Buster.”

Lexie smiled at Buster from across the conference room table. “I know it wasn’t him.”

Buster gave her a half smile in return.

“We’re lucky this latest note was placed during the daytime instead of at night. We should have a clear shot of the perpetrator,” Cole said. “I dropped you off at five-thirty, Lexie, so you should be up next.”

They watched the screen as the headlights from Cole’s squad car appeared at the entrance of the alley. Slowly, the car crawled up the narrow street and stopped a few yards from the door. Lexie got out of the passenger seat, gave a wave to Cole, and used her own key to open the door. Then she, too, disappeared.

“We also know it wasn’t you,” Hank said wryly.

Lexie gave a small snort at that statement. “The door’s unlocked now. I always unlock it after I get in so that the rest of the staff won’t have to bother with their keys.” She turned to Cole. “So the folks in Barnstable didn’t come up with any fingerprints or anything?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Cole confirmed, still watching the screen. “Whoever did this has been very,
very careful.”

“Isis should be next,” Buster grunted, his eyes on the video feed.

“Isis Dandridge is one of our line cooks,” Lexie clarified. “She’s a great employee,” she added, silently willing the perpetrator to be anyone but Isis.