He tightened his arms around her, renewing his vow to get things right with her from now on-and to make sure he gave her absolutely everything she deserved. No matter what.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Sebastian had made Charlie's body his work of art into the small hours of the morning, bringing her to ecstasy so many times she'd lost count. But even if she'd never had the pleasure of making love with him, she would still think he was a true artist in every sense of the word.
She had to find a way to make him believe that. And she knew where it had to start-with getting him to realize he didn't have to be Mr. Perfect. Was da Vinci perfect? Michelangelo? Of course not. And neither was she, with her dinosaurs built out of bullet-riddled road signs. That didn't mean she wasn't an artist. It didn't mean he wasn't either.
It was obvious his need to be perfect all came down to his parents. He was still broken up over not being able to save them. The drawings of his father, though, revealed so much. The lines on his face exposed not only weakness, but cruelty too. Sebastian had never mentioned a mean streak, but Charlie suspected there was more to the story than he'd admitted on stage-or to her. More, maybe, than Sebastian even wanted to admit to himself.
It was easy to spend all her time thinking about Sebastian. Wanting to give back as much as he'd already given to her. Just plain wanting him. But she needed to hustle on building the horses if she ever hoped to start the dinosaur for Noah.
Pulling down her face shield, she sparked up. The horses' legs needed to appear like fine machinery, pumping, working, galloping headlong. They didn't care that their master had been thrown to the ground in a heap or that the chariot was a broken shell they dragged behind them. They simply needed to fly. Just like Sebastian.
The day grew hot as she worked, and the protective gear and torch turned the heat on high, but still she lost track of time. She relished both the physicality of it and the ability to let her creativity run completely free. She'd just finished off a weld, its line clean and smooth, when a feeling struck her, a sense of something not quite right with her lead stallion.
She frowned and walked a wide circle around it. She'd sometimes asked her students to weigh in on a sculpture and had always been pleased by their insights. She still hadn't made a decision about the fall session-whether to keep one leg in her old world or to take the huge and scary step fully into Sebastian's world. And thinking about her students now made her stomach clench.
Pushing the thought away, she refocused on the horse and finally isolated the problem. Her prize stallion was bowlegged. Had she gotten the angle of his knee joints wrong? Or made his chest too wide?
"What's wrong?"
She almost dropped the torch in her surprise. Thank God she'd already turned it off. Laying it down, she flipped up her face mask. Her heart was racing as fast as her galloping stallions, and it wasn't only from the scare. It was Sebastian, all dressed up in a dark business suit and tie, his hair perfect, every-absolutely-freaking-thing perfect about him. She could feel his gaze sketching her body, as if he were running his fingertips over her.
"You scared me." Putting the face shield on the bench, she tugged off her gloves. "What if I'd been using my torch?"
"I wouldn't have said anything if you were," he drawled. "I just thought I'd bring you a refreshing bottle of beer." He set two imports on the workbench.
She wasn't normally a beer drinker, but with the heat of the day, her work, and Sebastian making her feel so temptingly hot... "God, that sounds good." As good as having him here with her in the studio, close enough to touch, to taste.
"So tell me what's wrong."
She pointed at her horse. "He's bowlegged."
"He looks fine."
She traced the lines of both legs with her hands to show him...and a memory of Sebastian's sleek muscles beneath her fingers sizzled over her skin.
He stepped in close, his male scent surrounding her, making her a tiny bit crazy. "You're right, he's totally bowlegged."
Laughter burst out of her. She wasn't a tiny bit crazy for him. She was over-the-top completely crazy.
"But he's good this way." Sebastian threaded his fingers through the tips of her hair. She loved that he couldn't do anything without touching her at the same time. "He's the handicapped horse that Ben-Hur gave a chance."
See? He was making up a story, like all great artists did. "Ben-Hur's kindness would have meant he was gambling with his life."
"That makes it even better. Kindness trumping both the win and safety." He was close, so close behind her. She wanted to take him to the floor and tear off all his perfect, polished clothes.
"We should leave the horse like this," he insisted softly.
"Even though he's not perfect?" Desire hummed through her voice, but she kept herself in check.
"He's perfect the way he is." He dropped a kiss on her neck, heating her all the way through despite the two fans blowing over them. "I know what you're doing, by the way. You're saying that art isn't about perfection."
"It's about heart." She leaned back, letting him put his arms around her, then turned her face up to his. She wanted him, but just as badly, she wanted the moment he trusted her enough to share all the things he'd been holding back. "Is my plan working?"
He drew her tightly against him, all hard male muscle and heat. "Oh yeah. It's definitely working."
She wriggled, tantalizing them both. But she knew he hadn't gotten her real message. Soon, she promised herself, she'd make sure he understood how amazing he was, exactly the way he was, no perfection necessary. "What message am I sending now?"
"That you're hot and I should strip off every last stitch of your clothes."
She had so much to do, and so much she wanted to help him see about himself. But wherever Sebastian was, something delicious and sexy was bound to ensue. And she could never resist him. "Anyone ever tell you how smart you are?"
He was already busy trailing his fingers to the smock's buttons and undoing them. As for her? Despite making love over and over again last night, she ached for him, so desperate and full of desire that her voice was a little breathless. "What are you doing here, anyway? Don't you have important meetings?"
"I couldn't stay away from you."
His simple, sweet words dissolved what was left of rational thought. The horse's bowed legs could stay bowed for another couple of hours. Sebastian's eyes were molten, his body all hard edges against her as he shoved the smock off her shoulders and let it fall. Then he unhooked the buckles of her overalls and flipped back the straps.
Charlie shimmied. Everything fell to her feet, and she kicked it all aside.
"Holy hell." A pulse beat rapidly at his throat.
She wore nothing but panties, bra, and her steel-toed boots. In the heat of his eyes and the flare of his nostrils like a fine racehorse ready to run, she'd never felt sexier.
He dove on her, her face between his hands as he consumed her mouth, deep, hard, fast. She grabbed his lapels before her knees buckled beneath her. Hauling her up, he pulled her legs around his waist, and whispered, "Hang on, baby."
God, yes, she would hang on. And she would make him see that everything he did was perfect simply because he was the one doing it.
Because, oh my, the things he did to her. She couldn't live without them.
She couldn't live without him.
* * *
Carrying Charlie to the workbench, Sebastian remembered the day he'd first touched her and all the things he'd been dying to do but hadn't.
"This is crazy," she whispered as he licked the swell of her breasts.
Snap and the flimsy bra fell away. "Completely reckless."
"Any of your employees could walk in."
"They could," he agreed with a wicked grin. "But they won't." It was long past lunchtime and there was no reason for anyone to come down here. Besides, he was too far gone to care if they did.
"How can you be sure?"
Even as she asked the question, she was threading her hands into his hair and arching her breasts closer to his mouth. But he made himself lift his head. "I'll stop if you want me to."
"Don't you dare."
Sweet Lord, she was exquisite. Her hair falling loose from its knot, the face shield leaving dents on her forehead, the adorable lines of concentration between her eyebrows.
"I couldn't get a lick of work done today, Charlie." He emphasized the word lick with a long, slow swipe of his tongue across her nipple. "All I could think about was taking you." He trailed his fingers down to her hips, laid his thumbs along the creases of her thighs, so close but not yet touching. "Loving you."
She dragged his head up to take his mouth. Kissing her was heaven. With long, drugged swigs of her, he immersed himself in her taste and her scent as she pulled him tight, her legs trapping him against her center.