Authors: Alexa Sinclaire
Almost as if he could read her mind, he took her elbow and turned her to face him. “I’m sorry this has been so brief. Perhaps we’ll meet again. Good evening, sweet Eden.” He leaned in and gently brushed his lips against her cheek, reigniting the yearning she had only just managed to get under control. And then he was gone.
Chapter Five
Eden gazed out her
apartment
window. The busy New York
City
street
below her buzzed with movement and the noise
traveled
up into her
apartment
, reminding her off the vibrancy of the
city
she had chosen to try and make her new home. She closed her eyes and murmured his name, “Sebastian Stone.”
It had been barely two weeks since their encounter in the
club,
but for Eden it felt like months had gone by. She had finished packing that weekend and had flown to New York two days later, her mind filled with their embrace in the town car and how his hard body had felt pressed up against hers in the
club
hallway. She had kept it in her mind as she dealt with the reality of returning to her life in America. It was time to stop being Edinburgh Eden and become a new Eden—New York Eden. She fully intended to turn her back on Boston Eden.
With her
trust fund
, she’d paid to have an agent find her an
apartment
and she was happy with it, even though she had to make her final selection from photos and a limited knowledge of the
city
. Her parents were furious about her decision to move to New York instead of returning to Boston. But the freedom she had felt in Edinburgh was too precious for her to let go of and she needed to maintain the distance from her old life, including her parents.
At 22, she didn’t need her parents’ permission to do anything, but their relationship with her had changed drastically in recent years and she hadn’t been able to stand up to them as much as she wanted to. It had been a Herculean task to not let them bully her back to Boston.
Eden had told Dr. Shepherd about Sebastian and, although she didn’t go into explicit detail, she did give away that they had kissed and she had wanted to take it further. Dr. Shepherd felt it was a breakthrough in Eden’s recovery and encouraged her to not be embarrassed or ashamed of her reckless
behavior
, although he did gently chastise her for getting into effectively a stranger’s town car after only barely finding out his name.
Her interaction with Sebastian had been so brief, though, that at times Eden felt she had imagined the whole thing. She had thought about it every day since they’d met and she knew she couldn’t let it be the last time, even though, in reality, it most likely was. After all, he was based in Edinburgh, from what she could glean from the quick
Internet
search she had done on him, and now she was in New York, a thousand miles away. She had found out that he had a
security
company, with an office in her new
city,
but from what she could understand, he was not nearly as active in New York.
As she searched for him online, she slowly remembered that his parents’ divorce had been a particularly brutal one. Eden remembered her mother gossiping about Eliza Stone, that she had done something despicable. Why else would Edward Stone have up and moved back to England, abandoning his wife and only son? Mrs. Stone didn’t have any money of her own, and after being such a steady member of her parents’ social group, she was very quickly expunged from it after her bank account didn’t hold up anymore. A few months later, their house was up for sale and they were gone.
Eden’s fantasy of Sebastian finding her in New York was nothing more than that—a fantasy. And
furthermore,
there was nothing to say that he even wanted to see her again. Yes, that kiss in the car had been intense, but he had walked away from her at the door. He hadn’t even tried to come in and test his luck. He hadn’t asked for her number or any way of contacting her.
Eden had decided to approach it as Dr. Shepherd had suggested—consider it a breakthrough, a wonderful start to her new life, regardless of the briefness of the encounter.
Besides the new
apartment
, she also had a new job. She’d accepted a position as an archival assistant at the Smithsonian Archive’s New York branch. It was only part-time, and the salary was embarrassing compared to what the other women in her formal social circle were earning. But Eden had jumped at the chance. She had loved the brief internship she had done at the Edinburgh Gallery and she knew it was a coup to have the Smithsonian on her resume.
She ignored the low salary and instead took pride in the position. After her mental makeover in Edinburgh, she had started feeling uncomfortable relying purely on her
trust fund
. Anything to supplement it was welcome.
Her parents had given her access to the trust soon after the attack. Part of her knew this was because they were afraid she wouldn’t be able to handle the realities of working life, and she more than appreciated the gesture. Despite her father’s wealth, they had always made it clear to Eden that she would have to make her own way in the world and wouldn’t have access to her trust until she was 30, although they would gladly help her in the first few years after she graduated.
After the attack, everything had changed. The trust conditions had been amended. She not only had unlimited access, but her parents encouraged her to use it. There had been something else about the sudden access to the trust that made Eden uncomfortable. Whenever she brought it up with her mother, it was quickly dismissed and her mother chastised her for talking about money.
Eden was torn between wanting to reject the
trust fund
completely, as she so wanted to do with everything in her former life, but she was acutely aware of her own wants and needs. She wanted to take the job at the Smithsonian, despite the small salary. She wanted to be able to live in a nice
apartment
and not have to rely on roommates to help pay the rent for some hovel above a fast food restaurant in order to stay in New York. She wanted to have the freedom that the money allowed her. Eden didn’t want to be trapped by her family’s social connections and expectations, but she also didn’t want to be trapped by poverty. She may have been spoiled growing up, but she was certainly not naïve enough to not
realize
the freedom that money gave her.
She had discussed the subject extensively with Dr. Shepherd. She felt like a hypocrite and the money did feel
dirty
. She couldn’t deny the fact that her parents had given her the
trust fund
early because she was attacked. It tainted the money and she didn’t know how to reconcile the conflict she felt whenever she took out her credit card.
There was another reason, one that Dr. Shepherd found much more interesting than the guilt about the
trust fund
. Eden knew that she wouldn’t be able to handle being poor. She had never wanted for anything, ever. She had gone to the best schools, had the best vacations, the best wardrobe, everything had always been handed to her on a plate. She knew how to study hard and commit to things. If anyone knew how extensive her debutante training had been, they wouldn’t question her ability to work hard, but that was not the same as pinching pennies and going without. She never thought twice about what it might cost to do
anything
. She wasn’t excessively wasteful by any means, but she knew what she wanted, and after 22 years of behaving a certain way, she wasn’t sure she would be able to change the habits of a lifetime. Working hard for something and hard work were not synonymous, and she knew deep down she could only handle the latter.
Dr. Shepherd had convinced her
finally
that she had to take one step at a time. It was unrealistic for her to reject the money and expect to establish independence and freedom from her family in one final swoop. She had to take baby steps. Using her
trust fund
money did not mean she couldn’t at some point in the future make success for herself on her own terms. She could have a career based on merit instead of her father’s connections. She could have true independence. But trying to achieve all that did not mean she should simply turn her back on the money.
He made her make a list of all the good things she had received from her parents—dedication, strong work ethic, a sense of pride. It was a hard list to make since Eden kept trying to add caveats to all of them—yes, she had learned a strong work ethic, but she had also seen her father sacrifice time with his family in order to make more money. He had also developed a nasty drinking habit and a slight gambling addiction. Yes, she had learned dedication, but to things she wasn’t sure were worthy of it. And yes, she had learned pride, but only by learning what shame was first.
It took a few weeks, but Eden was
finally
able to write the list, accepting that these were traits she saw in herself that she felt were important to her. At the bottom of the list, he made her add “money.” She had cried in his office when he told her to write it. But she knew it was true. To reject the money would be reckless. To pretend that she wasn’t lucky to have this opportunity was borderline insane. She had left that day feeling drained, but more liberated that she had in months. She thought about Dr. Shepherd’s words whenever she started to feel guilt about spending the money. “
You can let the attack poison everything in your life. You can let what happened frame every experience you have for the rest of your life, making you doubt everything and everyone that comes into your life. Or you can begin to heal
.”
Those words had allowed her to get on the plane to Edinburgh.
If only she could get Sebastian Stone out of her head!
Eden had avoided washing her dress, and a few times, she had held it up to her face and breathed in the faint scent of his cologne that remained. It took her back to the town car—his hands in her hair, then caressing her breast and her thigh. She had felt his erection pressing up against her leg. God, she had wanted more. She had
wanted
him. Eden had never
wanted
any man. Not like this at least.
Eden had enjoyed her
make-out
sessions with Joachim and there had been moments when she’d been mildly turned on. But it had never been a need or a real desire. After she and Joachim started dating, she had
realized
that what her girlfriends spoke about, the urges they described when trying to resist going all the way in the back of their boyfriends’ cars, didn’t match up with her own feelings. They always seemed so muted, dampened almost. She had started masturbating after that, just to reassure herself that she could actually orgasm. It was only in her
senior
year of high school, when she found out that several of her girlfriends weren’t actually able to orgasm when they had
sex,
that she
realized
most of it was hype. And she stopped worrying that something was wrong with her.
The sensations her friends were talking about weren’t genuine—most of them were as desperate for an orgasm as she was. Eden succumbed to the fact that the odds were not in her
favor
for a fulfilling
sex
life. The attack was simply the final straw. But when Sebastian had touched her, the feeling he had induced in her body was like something out of a romance novel. She had become wet almost even before he kissed her, and the orgasm she gave herself after he had dropped her off at home was the best she’d ever had. Maybe the problem hadn’t been her all along. Maybe it had been that Joachim just wasn’t the right guy. Maybe there was such a thing as chemistry.
The intercom buzzed, drawing her out of her reverie about Sebastian. She pressed the button, wondering what the front desk wanted. Rick, her doorman, came through the intercom.
“Miss Maxwell, you have a visitor in reception. A Mr. Sebastian Stone.”
Chapter Six
Eden stepped away from the intercom, holding her hand over her mouth. She must have misheard. The intercom buzzed again, repeatedly. She pressed the button once more, trying to gather herself to speak clearly.
“Yes, thank you, Rick. Please send him up.”
Eden couldn’t believe this was happening. How had he found her? She glanced at herself in the mirror in the hall, disappointed to
realize
that she was a far cry from the demure, silken woman she had been that night. Even with her mini-panic attack, she knew she had looked good that evening. But she had mostly returned to her usual defensive outfit of jeans and top, only with a few variations. As part of New York Eden, she had started wearing v-neck t-shirts that clung to her figure nicely instead of the usual high-necked ones that covered her completely. She’d even unpacked some old sandals with a slight wedge heel. She still felt unprepared for Sebastian.
Her parents had shipped all her old clothes to her
apartment
and she was slowly letting herself enjoy dressing up again. But she had made a minimal effort this morning and now she regretted it. Her hair was piled up on her head in a messy bun and she had only just applied some brown mascara. She knew she wouldn’t have time to find some lip-gloss or change into a more attractive top. Instead, she focused on her breathing, shocked that just knowing he was going to be in her
apartment
in a few seconds was enough to make her wet.
****
Eden held on to the kitchen island, her gaze sweeping across Sebastian’s face. She had strategically placed herself behind the island,
keeping
it as a buffer between them. She didn’t trust herself enough not to throw herself at him and embarrass them both. While she yearned to
pick up
where they had left off a week ago, she wanted to know what was going on. How had he found her and what did he want? She hoped it was her, but she had her doubts.
A man like Sebastian Stone could have any woman he desired, that had been made clear enough during Eden’s brief reading through the celebrity gossip sites. He had been linked to several models and actresses, although she suspected, and hoped, it was mostly tenuous speculation. But still, while she wanted nothing more than to walk across the room, feel his hands on her body, his lips on her own, she controlled herself. And now he was standing in her kitchen, silently watching her with those eyes. He hadn’t spoken a word when she opened the door.
“How did you find me?” she
finally
asked, breaking the silent stand-off between them.
“It wasn’t really that difficult. I work in
security
. It’s my job to be able to find people. I also have some contacts at Edinburgh
University
and it was simply a matter of requesting your forwarding address from their files,” Sebastian explained, a small smirk flitting across his lips. “Does that bother you?”
Eden was a bit shocked. “That’s a complete violation of my student record. They shouldn’t have given you that information. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“People break rules for me, Eden.” And then as an afterthought, he added, “You’ll see that for yourself soon enough.” If only he knew how many of her own rules she had broken in those few minutes with him in his car. “But you’re happy that I found you. I know you are. I can tell just by the way you’re breathing.” He was standing next to her
suddenly
, having moved around the island so swiftly Eden didn’t have time to move away. He whispered into her ear now and she knew he was going to touch her.
“Yes. I am,” she answered, though he hadn’t actually asked her. He had done that when they first met. He made statements to her that other people would phrase as questions.
Eden slowly breathed out as he ran his fingertips up her arm until he reached her neck and stroked her collarbone.
“I missed this. In fact, I thought about little else,” he whispered as he slowly bent down and brushed his lips against the skin of her neck, his hands moving to her hips, pulling her into him. She closed her eyes and softly moaned as the electric feeling she had felt with his first touch returned to her and her stomach tightened, the feeling shooting down between her legs. She reached and held on to his shirt to keep her balance. “You missed it too, Eden.”
And
suddenly,
they were in motion. He was walking her backwards while kissing her throat, gently biting where her neck and shoulder met. He lifted her shirt over her head, throwing it over his shoulder. With her arms now bare, she wrapped them around his neck, running her fingers through his smooth hair, responding to his caresses, willing him to keep touching her and to never let it end.
He laid her on the long couch, his hands moving across her bare torso, caressing her stomach and waist before climbing up over her breasts to her shoulders and easing down her bra straps.
“God, I’ve been
fantasizing
about what your tits looked like since you pressed them against me at the
club
,” he breathed into her neck.
His voice made Eden writhe harder under him. He had been thinking about her, too!
With Sebastian on top of her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him toward her, feeling his erection through his suit trousers pressing against the seam of her jeans, and it made her moan again. He had exposed one breast, and while he still hadn’t kissed her mouth, his lips were constantly moving over her body. They now found her nipple, already hard from her arousal.
“So sweet and pink, Eden, even better than I imagined.”
His lips surrounded it and she arched her back as she felt his tongue flicker across it, causing it to pebble even further. While his tongue continued to caress her nipple and breast, his hands had started moving south, further down, squeezing her waist, and she felt his fingers slide under the top of her jeans. He yanked at the top button, and something about the noise made Eden freeze.
“No,” she said. It was hardly a whisper, but loud enough for Sebastian to
realize
she was serious. He stopped, as still as she had become, looking up from his position on her chest, his mouth still covering her now swollen nipple. To see his mouth like that, holding a part of her so intimately, Eden blushed.
Suddenly, he was up, facing away from her, moving to the window and looking over the New York skyline with his back to her. In so doing, Eden
realized
, he was giving her the discretion she needed to get dressed.
After a few moments, he spoke. She was shaking, but not from the fear she assumed was about to overwhelm her when he had unbuttoned her jeans. No, now she was shaking with her own frustration at having stopped him.
“Come to dinner with me tomorrow night. My
apartment
. It’s not far from here. I’ll send a car at seven p.m.” He turned to face her now and she blushed again, remembering his erection pressing against her, remembering how it felt between her legs, how much she had wanted more than it simply rubbing against her, and wishing she hadn’t said no. She wished she could take it back because, looking at Sebastian Stone, the only thing she wanted was him back between her legs, this time without the hindrance of clothes between them.
“Yes, but on one condition,” she said, slightly surprised by her own bravery, “first tell me what happened to you. It’s like you vanished one day from Elmbridge.”
“Dinner. I’ll answer any questions you have at dinner.” He walked past her, picked up her phone from the kitchen counter, and started typing something. A few seconds later, she heard his phone beep. Apparently, he didn’t feel that he needed to ask for her number. He just took it. The corners of his mouth lifted into a smug smile before he approached her to say goodbye. They walked to her door together, not touching but close enough to feel each other’s presence.
Sebastian turned at the door, pulling her toward him gently with hands around her waist. “In Edinburgh, you said you weren’t afraid of me. Is that still true?” The cold in his eyes had returned, and Eden gazed back at him, aware that there was no way she could lie to those eyes, despite how nervous they made her when they were cold.
“Yes, it’s still true.”
“Good.” And with that, he kissed her softly, his lips barely touching hers, cupping her face in his hands. “Until tomorrow, love.”
Eden waited until she heard the elevator doors shut before she bolted the door and slid her back along it. Even now, she could feel his touch on her. Her nipples were still sensitive and his caress lingered on her stomach. But she remembered the button, the sound of her jeans being opened, and
suddenly,
she wasn’t with Sebastian. She was back in the frat house room two years ago, pinned down by four boys, men really. She could feel her jeans being ripped off her, twisted around her ankles, her bra off and discarded, rough roaming hands touching her despite her cries of protest that were muffled by a hand. She could hear the sound of the music playing at the party downstairs,
Lady
Gaga’s “Monster” coming up through the floor, and
she realized
that even if she were able to shout, no one would hear her.
The sound of her phone ringing brought her out of her flashback and she jumped up, working through Dr. Shepherd’s calming exercises—
get out of the moment, don’t dwell, that’s not how you will recover, Eden.
She looked at her phone and winced when she saw who was calling—Joachim.
She answered, putting on a calm voice that she found within her, despite the memories that still circled in her mind.
“Baby! You’re back! I just heard.” Joachim’s voice came through vibrant and joyful as ever.
“Yup, I’m back. In a way,” she answered. Her parents had impressed upon her how she had to maintain her social relationships, especially since she wasn’t returning to Boston. She was establishing herself in a new
city
and Joachim had known her family since she was a child. He’d moved here two years ago to start work at his father’s law firm. And more importantly, he was the boy she had been dating for almost five years before she up and disappeared to Edinburgh. She couldn’t possibly say no when he invited her to lunch with him.
“I’ve only got an hour, but meet me at my office and I’ll take you out, my treat.”
****
Eden had to admit to herself that it was a pleasure to see Joachim again. She had pushed him out of her mind during her time in Edinburgh, although she had responded to his regular emails. She had tried to maintain a distance between them and thought that when she didn’t reciprocate the affection she found in his letters, he would slowly back off. It hadn’t happened, and Mara had pointed out that Eden clearly didn’t have a clue how Joachim really felt about her. She had been dreading seeing him. But now, watching him walking across his building’s foyer toward her with a huge smile on his face, she beamed back at him and
realized
she was glad to see him.
The history between them made her feel relaxed, as long as she kept certain memories pushed to the side. Joachim was two years older than her and, during her breakdown and slow recovery, he had finished law school and was making a name for himself at Benedict, Turner, and Smith.
She couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in his suit. His blond hair was usually floppy and messy, but today he was wearing it slicked back and under control. Eden had always teased Joachim that he grew up on the wrong coast—his hair
color
and relaxed features gave him a surfer-boy look. She had always been amused that Joachim managed to pull off wearing a suit. He was best suited in flip-flops, worn-out jeans, and some threadbare band t-shirt.
He played football throughout high school and college and she knew how hard he worked at
keeping
in shape. His broad shoulders and rock hard body fit so perfectly in his football gear it was always a surprise to see that he didn’t look like the Incredible Hulk when he was wearing anything else. From what she could see in the suit, he was clearly maintaining his muscle mass.
Joachim
finally
reached her and swung her around as if she weighed nothing.
“God, I’ve missed you, babe!” He held her against him for a moment longer than she wanted, and she
realized
that despite the year she had put between them, there was still something there. At least for him. “Come on, let’s rush. I’ve got us a table at Le Choux and we have so much to
catch
up on.”