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Little Black Book(55)

By:Tabatha Vargo




Sebastian: Be ready by ten and wear something comfortable. It’s time to face your fears.



My stomach felt tight with fear already. I set the phone down and chewed on my bottom lip. I had no idea what the heck he was talking about, or what we would be doing come ten o’clock, but I got up and made my way toward the bathroom to shower.

The hot water soothed my sore muscles. I ran my fingers across my tight abs and aching thighs. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I didn’t know how I was going to face him and keep my feelings hidden. My emotions had no place in this deal and I would just have to get over them.

Fifteen minutes later, I was wiping fresh steam from the mirror and wrapping a fluffy towel around my breasts. I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered what I’d gotten myself into with Sebastian.

I was caught up in him completely, but to him I was just another one of his girls. It hurt to even think about him spending nights like ours with other girls.

He’d made it abundantly clear he had no interest in me outside of sex or taking care of me financially; and even then, it was because he wanted something from me.

There would be no proposals of love, or vows of fidelity. He’d stated plainly what he wanted from day one, and that was my body only. My heart, or his for that matter, were not on the table and they never would be, no matter how badly I wanted to set mine up there for him.

I thought of Kyle, and how happy he was about the condo and the fact we weren’t living in his school parking lot. No matter what, I had to do this for him. I couldn’t lose him again, when he was all I had. At least that’s what I’d keep telling myself. As bad as it stung, I refused to acknowledge that my reasons for being with Sebastian were becoming purely selfish.

Turning away from the mirror, I dried off and hung the towel up to comb through my wet hair. I got dressed, briefly wondering what a girl wore when she was facing her fears. I decided on jeans and a white button-up shirt.

The sound of the elevator made me stand from the couch. And then there he was, strutting into my apartment with his dark hair and shade-covered eyes, topped with that panty-soaking smile.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

He reached out and placed a hand on my lower back, ushering me onto the elevator. He didn’t move his hand until he was opening the door to the car for me to climb in. I felt the loss of his warmth the minute he wasn’t there. I reminded myself that he did such intimate gestures with all of his girls, he was just practiced at what he did.

I watched him move with purpose to the driver’s side of the car. Once he was in and had his seatbelt on, I spoke.

“Can you tell me what this is about?”

“I have something for you. But first… I don’t want you walking the streets alone anymore.” His words had come from nowhere. “As long as we’re doing this, you’ll call Martin when you need to go somewhere. Understood?”

“It’s not necessary. I have two feet and—”

He cut me off. “What did I say, Jessica?”

The way he was talking to me made me mad, even though I should’ve been used to it by that point. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out the window, pretending to ignore his words.

“Don’t go getting pissed at me. It’s only because I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

I turned and looked at him shocked. His words were borderline sweet and I wasn’t sure if I should enjoy them or check him for a fever.

“What?” I asked.

I had to be sure I wasn’t hearing things.

Instead of answering me, he leaned across my lap, warming my legs. “It’s also why I bought you…” he opened the glove compartment. “This.”

I jerked when he set a pink gun on my lap. It was small. At first I thought it was a toy because of its color, but it was heavy—too heavy to be fake. Just having it close to me made me feel like having a panic attack.

“Sebastian…” I held my hands away from it, like it was going to bite me.

“Relax, Jessica. I’d never do anything to harm you. Do you trust that?” he asked, making a left turn.

“I don’t trust guns.”

“I understand. But do you trust me?”

I did. I trusted him with everything, except my heart, but neither had anything to do with the fact that guns scared the crap out of me.

“I need to know that when you’re not with me, you’re protected. It’s either this, or I hire someone to follow you around.” He kept his eyes on the road.

“I don’t understand you. Why are you doing this?”