More Than Friends (7 page)

He’d bruised her with his mouth and lips, sucked on her sensitive skin until angry red marks flared to life. He’d kissed her breasts and her pussy. And her ass. But he hadn’t kissed her lips.

She heaved a heavy breath and blinked away irrational tears. Really? After everything else he’d done, she was getting upset over a lousy kiss?

Seb stirred behind her. His arm tightened around her waist. “Loo.”

His breath hummed through her hair and over her shoulder.

“Mmm?”

“Nothing. Just…Loo.”

He shifted away from her and sat up, shuffling from side to side. The rasp of a zip closing filled the air. Then she was being lifted, carried from the bathroom to her bedroom, where he tossed her doona aside and laid her on the bed.

“Don’t move,” he whispered before vanishing into the bathroom again.

Water ran from the tap and a drawer was pulled out and closed. Lucy lay where she was, too sated to move, anticipating his return, looking forward to the minute she could curl into his warmth again, press herself to his broad chest and hard thighs.

Falling asleep in the safety of his arms held an appeal Lucy didn’t try to deny.

The bed dipped as he sat beside her, and a wet cloth touched her leg. Had Seb not taken the time to soak it in warm water, she would have jumped a mile from shock. But the heat from the cloth simply seeped into her muscles, relaxing her further.

She lay immobile as Seb wiped away every last trace of stickiness, his strokes tender and gentle. When he’d nodded his approval that her front was clean, he rolled her over and started on her back, wiping her butt cheeks and the crack between them, making her sigh. He spent an extra long while wiping her bruised, bitten skin. He even placed a soft kiss on it, making her sigh yet again.

A moment passed before he tackled the stickiness on her foot. A long, silent moment, where Lucy heard nothing but her breath and his. And then he ran his finger over calf. Traced a path downwards over her foot in a haphazard fashion, following the trail of come he’d left on her.

Seb swore under his breath, a muffled oath she barely heard. His lips touched the back of her knee—a sweet caress pressed against tender skin—and then he wiped down her foot before moving on to her leg.

Lucy stretched and preened beneath his touch, the soft strokes a light massage. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. Didn’t try. She simply gave herself over to the subtlety of his touch. When long moments later it ended, she didn’t have the energy to complain. She just sighed into her pillow.

Seb’s lips touched her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Lucy-Loo,” he whispered as she lost herself to that magical world halfway between sleep and consciousness.

Lucy awoke to her alarm blaring beside her and the sun glaring through her bedroom window.

As awareness descended, reminding her of every detail of the previous night, delicious contentment oozed through her limbs while crushing disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach.

No one was curled up around her, his front plastered to her back. No one held her close, his arm tucked around her waist, his hand on her belly.

No one shared her bed.

Lucy was all alone.

Chapter Five

Her feet pounded the footpath, one step in front of the other, her pace faster than usual.

Sweat trickled down her back, and her hair, tied in a ponytail, bobbed from one shoulder to the other. Her standard eight-kilometer run had turned into an unusual twelve kilometers, then a ridiculous fourteen—and she was still running.

Lucy had begun her run heading from Bondi to Coogee along the breathtaking coastal path and then she’d headed back, pushing her way through the seething masses flocked along the path from Tamarama.

She’d deliberately chosen to run this way, knowing the first and last part of the route would be jam-packed, owing to the annual two-week Sculpture By The Sea Exhibition. Lucy had figured making her way through all the people without tripping or knocking into anyone would be a brilliant way of getting her thoughts off Sebastian.

She’d also anticipated the hundreds of steps as she made her way from Clovelly through to Gordon Bay, believing the burn in her muscles would help wipe her mind clean.

She’d been kidding herself. Her mind was no less focused on Seb than it had been for the last two days. He’d left her flat on Sunday night, and she hadn’t heard from him since.

Not a word. Not a text, not a phone call, not an email. Which wasn’t unusual. They could often go several days without contact. But those several days were mostly from Wednesday through to Sunday evening. Sunday was movie night, and Tuesday late afternoon was their running time. They’d meet at a common point, plan out a circuit and run it together.

No, those plans didn’t always pan out. Sometimes one of them worked late. But they still got to hang out for a while anyway. Either Lucy would run to Seb’s place, or he’d run to hers.

Today, Seb hadn’t texted to say he’d meet her. He hadn’t phoned to tell her he was working late. There’d been no invitation to come on over to his place after her run.

There’d been nothing.

Sure, she could have taken the initiative. Could’ve picked up her phone or tapped out a message, but pride had stopped her.

She’d taken the initiative on Sunday night. It was his turn now.

Somehow she suspected she wouldn’t be hearing from him. Seb wouldn’t be taking the initiative. Not with running, and not with their relationship. He hadn’t bothered to hang around on Sunday night, he hadn’t made contact on Monday, and he’d been silent the whole day today.

He was done with her and her stupid, tactless love for him.

At least at work she’d been able to bury herself in her beloved books and at times lose her thoughts to the thousands of stories surrounding her, but now, nothing seemed to help.

Lucy pounded the ground harder, ran faster, hoped her heaving, gasping breath would drown out the sound of her heart breaking.

It didn’t. She heard the shattering as clearly as if someone had thrown a glass bottle at her feet.

Seb obviously did not return her feelings.

He’d been overcome with lust on Sunday and had given in to that. Perhaps it had been his way of giving himself the opportunity to see if he could fall in love with her. Perhaps.

Whatever, the lust had amounted to little more than a few intense orgasms.

He hadn’t kissed her, and he hadn’t come inside her.

Instead he’d pushed her mouth away. Turned the tables and made her come on his mouth. And him? He’d been content with his hand and her foot.

At the time she’d thought it the sexiest thing imaginable, Seb not able to contain his excitement. Now she saw it for what it really was. Lack of interest. If he’d really desired her, really wanted her as much as she’d wanted him, he’d have let her work him with her mouth. Or even made love to her, like a man makes love to a woman, with his cock in her pussy.

Seb had allowed her none of that.

He’d used his hand.

Which was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most demeaning insult ever.

Confessing her love to him had been humiliating, but giving herself to him heart, body and soul, and him returning that gift by using his hand was a million times worse.

There was only one course of action to take now. Only one thing that would allow Lucy a shred of dignity. She had to move on. Had to pick up the pieces and get on with her life. And the only way she knew to do that was to disassociate herself from Seb. Cut him off. Snip him from her life.

It was how she’d managed her despair when Brian had broken up with her and when Keith had cheated on her. She’d simply pretended they didn’t exist. And it had worked a treat. One moment she was busting up inside, the next she’d been fine.

She’d do that with Seb too. Pretend he didn’t exist.

It would require some rescheduling, require her to give active thought to making different plans on Sunday evenings from now on. Maybe she could hang with her girlfriends more. And she’d switch her Tuesday runs to Wednesday and maybe start running laps around Centennial Park to avoid the circuits she and Seb ran together.

She’d also have to toss out the chocolate he’d given her. Not that there was as much left as there had been on Sunday night, but that was another story. She wanted no part of him in her flat. She’d gather up all the gear he’d left at her place over the years, his jumpers, books, pens, sunglasses—and whatever else she found lying around—plop it in a box and post it to him.

Lucy gave a nod of determination.

Yep. Done. She’d cut him out. Her life would continue without him. Easy as that. Her heart may ache, and her eyes may well with tears, but she’d just ignore them, take a deep breath and move on.

Lucy slapped her hands together with a sense of accomplishment and took her last step running, finally feeling tired enough to stop. She’d reached her destination anyway. She was home. She could just go inside, have a long hot shower and begin the search for Seb’s gear.

By midnight Seb would be a ghost from the past.

But as she headed towards the door of her building, Lucy did a double take.

This wasn’t her building at all. Didn’t look anything like it.

No, the building before her looked suspiciously like Seb’s, and for the life of her, Lucy had no memory of consciously making her way there.

What the hell was she thinking?

Not two minutes ago she’d made the decision to cut him out of her life. Just chop him off with one good, clean slice. And her way of carrying through on that decision was to…ring his bell? Press her hand hard on the buzzer until she heard the drone on the other side of the door?

Oh, great plan, Luce. Really well thought out. That’ll show Sebastian. That’ll teach him.

She should leave. Should get the hell off his doormat and run home. Yet her legs refused to move and her heart didn’t seem to be much in the mood for spurring those stubborn legs on.

Stupid heart. Didn’t it remember how it had just shattered?

“Hey, you’re early.” Seb’s muffled voice coincided with his approaching footsteps. The handle turned, the door swung open, and there he was, dressed in jeans and nothing else. “I only expected you in—” His jaw dropped. “Lucy?”

“Apparently you weren’t expecting me at all.”

“I, er, no, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yeah, so I gathered. Which is funny really, because it’s Tuesday, and usually we run on Tuesday, and if you don’t run on Tuesday, then I generally swing by your place after I run and you generally expect me. So, yeah. It’s funny, you know?”

He stared at her, looking stunned. “It’s Tuesday?”

“No. It’s Wednesday and I’m just screwing with your head. Tuesday was yesterday, and we ran eight kilometers together, like we always do. Remember?”

Seb ran a hand over his whiskered jaw. The fact that it was whiskered at all was a surprise, since he usually kept his jaw shaved as smooth as his head. “Shit, I’m sorry. I must have lost track of time.”

A bead of sweat trickled down her face as she tried her hardest not to stare at his magnificent, shirtless chest. “Look, do you mind if I come in for a second? Splash some water on my face and get a drink?”

He jumped out of her way, extending his arm towards his living room. “Of course not. Why would I mind? Come inside. Go use the bathroom.”

Like she’d done fifty times before, Lucy headed straight for his bathroom and helped herself to a hand towel. She splashed water on her heated face and wiped the sweat from her brow and neck. Her tight running vest was damp and plastered to her chest, but there was nothing she could do about that. Didn’t matter though. Seb was used to her sweaty post-run look.

When she’d cooled down enough to face him again, she tossed the towel in the wash basket and headed back out.

Seb waited for her with a glass of icy cold water.

She downed it gratefully, stunned by her calm demeanor. Even her pounding heart had steadied. Was that because she’d gained control of her senses—or because, as usual, Seb had that steadying effect on her?

“Have a good run?” he asked when she lowered the glass.

“No. Actually I had a crap run. You wanna know why?” She set the glass on his dining room table.

“Too hot?” he guessed.

“No. I was too focused on you and your damned behavior the other night to think about my run. I forgot to stretch, and eight kilometers went by so damn quickly I didn’t get a good enough workout, so I had to do another eight.” Hmm, talking about stretching…

Lucy kicked her foot backward, grabbing it with her hand and pulled it as hard as she could towards her ass, stretching her quads.

Sebastian watched her carefully. “You ran sixteen kilometers without stretching?”

“Yeah. I did.” She switched legs. “My head was so full of thoughts about what went down on Sunday night and what you did to me and how I reacted, that my mind wasn’t really on the run, you know?”

“That’s stupid.” He shook his head with a frown. “You’ll injure yourself.”