MVP (VIP Book 3) (32 page)

My hand immediately went to my chest and I swear on everything that is holy, I couldn’t fucking breathe. The air from my lungs had literally been sucked out of me and my heart was shattering, breaking with shards of glass that were etching their way out of my skin and leaving scars in their wake. Wounds that would never be able to heal. The blood drained from my face and tears came pouring down. I needed to get the fuck out of there. I went into the bathroom and composed myself as best as I could. I told Anthony that I had an awful headache and needed to leave. I got back to the house and stood in the foyer, looking at everything around me. The life I was building, the future, my happiness. The house of cards came tumbling down and I fell to the ground with it, bawling my eyes out with the truth that I tried to ignore.

It finally slapped me in the face.

I just never thought it would be by Sebastian’s hand.

“But you’re what she wants, Sebby. That’s huge.”

“I know. I’ll take her any way I can.”

I know in my heart that I’ll love her forever.

“But…”

Maybe if I say it…if I let the fear free, then it will no longer haunt me.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this.” I took a deep breath, trying to build up the courage. “I’ve lived my life for everyone else, Julia, you know that. Ysabelle was the first selfish thing I ever did. I love her. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her. I know she’s my soul mate.”

She’s all that and more. Words can’t explain what she means to me.

“But I would be lying if part of me isn’t terrified that she won’t ever want to get married and have a family, that I will be sacrificing myself for someone else again and that I will resent her.”

“Oh, Sebby,” she sympathized. “I don’t think that’s true at all. Your love for each other can surpass anything.”

“I know. Julia, she had the worst upbringing. The things she went through no child should ever experience.”

She frowned.

“I know I have to be patient. I’ll take her any way I can. I couldn’t live without her, I’ve tried.”

“I understand.”

“The way she sees herself is mind blowing to me. She would be a great mom, and I already feel married in my heart. I think it’s more about the fact that I want her to let me in and I know what it’s like to have a child with someone. I want that bond with her. That connection that you created life together and no one can take it away from you.”

“Do you think you’re going to lose her?”

“No. I’d fight for her.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Anthony was talking to some locals when we came back down. I held a sleeping Christian in my arms. He told us that Ysabelle said she had a headache and went home. I would have gone home with her; I called her cell phone, but she didn’t answer. It took us a while to get a cab and all the lights were off when we got back to the house. I placed Christian in his bed and said goodnight to Julia and Anthony. The room was dark and I saw her sleeping form under the covers. I took a quick rinse and changed into some gym shorts. I didn’t want to wake her. I put my arms around her and she didn’t stir.

I swear that I heard her say, “I’m sorry,” right before I fell asleep.

It was our year anniversary and I had planned a romantic dinner at the house. Ysabelle hadn’t been feeling well for a few days and went to the doctor that morning. She called to tell me it was stress related and that she was going to go check on a few things at the bar and would be home for dinner. I knew she was emotionally spent. She had been distant and withdrawn since Julia left. She was pulling away from me more and more every day. I gave her space, hoping that it was the right decision. I didn’t want to push her, knowing that it wouldn’t work—it’d only make it worse. I wanted to make it a special evening for her. I prepared all her favorite foods and bought the most expensive bottle of champagne I could find.

Chance started barking when he heard the garage door open.

“Hey, Chance, how’s my boy?” she greeted, scratching his head. “Wow! What’s all this?” she asked looking at the dining room table.

“Come here,” I said, pulling her to me. “You never let me hold you anymore, unless we’re in bed.”

She snuggled into my chest and it was the first time since Julia left that I actually felt her. She embraced me the way she used to, like she didn’t want to let me go.

“You okay?” I asked, kissing the top of her head.

“Mmm hmm…”

“I told you I wanted to spoil you tonight for our anniversary.”

“Oh yes, I remember.”

We ate dinner, laughed and talked. It was great, but there was something behind her eyes that had been there since they left. She hid it well, although I could tell.

“Do you want your gift?”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Of course.” 

God I missed that smile.

I left to go grab her gift and when I came back, there was a wrapped present for me on the table.

I handed it to her. “You first.”

She opened it and gasped. “Oh my God, Sebastian.”

It was a white gold Cartier bracelet and I had our initials engraved on it.

“The salesman told me there’s a story behind these bracelets, you're supposed to give them to someone that you want to be with forever. Once it's locked and screwed in place, your love is eternal.”

She looked up at me with glossy eyes. “Thank you.”

“Here let me help you put it on.” I grabbed her wrist and put in place. “Gorgeous.”

She smiled.

“Open yours.”

I opened it and it was a Rolex silver vintage watch.

“I bought it for you when we were in Miami. The salesman said that antique watches are supposed to be timeless pieces and given to someone that is forever. Endless.”

“Thank you, Ysa, I love it.” I put it on. “I guess we had a theme without even knowing it, huh?”

“Looks like it.”

I kissed her.

“You did all this, I’ll clean up.”

I nodded. I wanted to prepare for her next surprise. I finished as I heard her calling out my name down the hallway.

“Sebastian, where did you—” she broke in, walking into our bedroom.

The whole room was lit with candles and there were rose petals all over the place and on the bed.

“Wow, it’s like a book scene in here,” she added.

“Happy anniversary, Ysa.”

“You’re going to make me cry.”

“Come here.”

“Sebastian, let me go change and put on lingerie.”

“I don’t care about any of that. I want you. Come here.”

She walked over to me and stood in between my legs, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at her.

She gazed down at me with a look I couldn’t quite read.

“You’re so beautiful. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

She shyly smiled and slid the straps of her dress down her body, leaving her bare with just panties. She attentively watched as I grabbed the edge of her panties to bring her closer to me. I leaned forward and kissed her navel and she sucked in a deep breath, her body trembled as I kissed all around her abdomen. I tried to ignore the prevailing thoughts of wanting to see her pregnant, but as I continued to caress her stomach, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander to what it would be like kissing my child through her growing belly. The child that I put there, the one that we made out of our love.

Her breathing became erratic as I continued to fantasize about a future that appeared to be further away each day. I looked up to her closed eyes and there were a few tears flowing down her face.

Ysa,” I coaxed. “What’s wrong?”

She slowly opened her eyes with a huge smile on her face. “Nothing. They’re happy tears.”

She lowered herself to the floor before I could give it any more thought and stared into my eyes; there was so much emotion behind her expression it was hard to follow. I was always in tune with what her eyes shared with me, but in that second, they were indescribable. It was like she was torn with what she was feeling, her mind was spiraling out of control and it was wreaking havoc on her soul. I could actually feel the pained glare on her face. It was a window to what was happening in her mind.

It was more than I could have ever imagined, she had never looked at me like that before. When her delicate fingers caressed the sides of my face, it was as if she was making a memory. I was at a loss for words.

“Sebastian, stop thinking. Just feel, just be with me,” she whispered, sensing my apprehension.

She reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it off. I watched as she started tracing the outline of my bare chest and around my heart that beat just for her. She smiled, reading my thoughts I was sure. Her fingers crept toward my shorts to unbutton them and pull them down with my boxers. My hard cock sprang lose. I held in a breath when she licked along the tip and then her warm lips took me in. She gilded them in a slow, torturous rhythm, taking me deep and then back out. Her eyes never left mine as I closely observed her making love to me with her mouth.

I grabbed her hair by the nook of her neck and brought her lips up to meet mine. I pecked her at first; teasing her with the tip of my tongue along the outline of her perfect, pouty mouth that was slightly swollen from sucking my cock. Her tongue sought mine and our kiss quickly turned passionate, moving on its own accord and taking what the other needed. There was something agonizing about the way we were kissing each other, it was urgent and demanding and all-consuming. We both couldn’t get enough of each other and wanted more. Wanted everything.

I carried her up my body, never breaking our kiss, our connection. I gently laid her down onto the bed and placed myself on top of her. She roughly grabbed the back of my neck, bringing me closer, wanting to make us one person and kissing me like her life depended on it. My fingers ran against her cheek and then down to her breasts, as I caressed them lightly, grazing my fingers around her nipples and then along the cup, all while I kept my other hand firmly in place behind her neck.

“Sebastian,” she moaned, in a voice I didn’t recognize.

Our bodies moved like they were made for each other, nothing ever compared or even came close to when we made love. I knew that’s what she wanted. Ysabelle wasn’t a making love kind of woman; it didn’t matter because it always felt like we were, even when the act was rough. There was something about her in that moment that wanted me to go slow; she wanted to feel like I owned her body, mind, and soul. She wanted to feel safe and worshiped; I gladly distributed it to her, but her body was also burning with a longing for something else that I couldn’t identify.