A Prince's Ransom: Kidnapped by the Billionaire (35 page)

Tobin smiled back. “Hi. Tobin. Have we met before?”

“Oh, you probably wouldn’t remember—Kate saw my boxer, we only met briefly. Lisa and I actually met at your vet practice a few months ago. Best trip to the vet ever,” she explained with a grin, and Tobin laughed.

“That’s great—that’s right, too. Lisa talks about you all the time. Sorry, my mind is elsewhere these days.”

“No worries, I can only imagine how much stress you’re under with your dad in the hospital and everything.”

“Should we go get a table?” Kate interjected. “I don’t know about you three, but I’m absolutely starving.”

“Definitely,” Tobin answered with another laugh, and the four of them headed inside to the welcome desk, where a pretty girl with two dark pink buns on either side of the top of her head showed them to a booth. They ordered a round of champagne to start the night off, and chips with cheese-and-spinach dip for appetizers. Their waiter ended up being an attractive guy with a charming smile, which he flashed very pointedly at Kate and Poppy, the latter of whom ignored him entirely.

“So how is your dad doing, Tobin?” Poppy asked as she sipped at her champagne. “I mean, Lisa told me it sounded pretty serious.”

“It was,” she agreed with a bit of a sigh, leaning back in the booth. “He’s always had issues with his weight, and he’s really bad about keeping track of his cholesterol and he’s just really lucky that he was in a public place when the heart attack started, or else no one might’ve known for a long time, and it would’ve been too late.”

And it did not matter, Tobin told herself, that his not having been in the hospital to begin with would have stopped her from ever been abducted in the first place. The important thing was that he had been saved and that he was doing very well for the surgery he had to undergo. “He’s still in the hospital right now. His surgery was fairly extensive, and at his age and everything, the doctors just wanted to keep him around a little while longer to make sure everything was going smoothly—since he lives alone and everything.”

Poppy nodded. “Well, I’m glad to hear that he’s doing better, and I hope he makes a speedy recovery in general.”

“What’d he say when you told him about what happened?” Lisa asked. And despite how quiet she was, her question was the epitome of insensitive, Tobin thought with a surge of frustration—so much so that she was glad when finally the waiter returned with their appetizers.

“Are you ladies ready to order?” he asked, flashing a smile at them. He was probably aware of the sudden tension that surged, the way Poppy and Kate were both staring at Lisa, but he definitely didn’t have any business asking about their conversation.

“Yes, I’ll have shrimp scampi linguine,” Kate answered him with a smile, clearly hoping the tension would diffuse by the time he left.

“The chicken tender platter,” Poppy followed, taking a deep breath and still shooting her girlfriend the stink eye from across the table.

Sensing she’d done wrong, Lisa was a bit more hesitant in answering, glancing down nervously at her menu. “Uhm, the, uh… clubhouse grille,” she managed after a moment.

The waiter’s gaze turned to Tobin. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears, her hand twisted in her silver skirt underneath the tabletop as she stared at Lisa. They really hadn’t ever hung out socially before, she realized. Suddenly it was very obvious why that was. At last, though, she managed to force a smile onto her face as she looked up at him again. “Bourbon Street chicken and shrimp. Thanks.”

“Of course, that’ll be right out.” He took their menus and started to go.

“Hold on, could you also bring us a round of margaritas?”

“Absolutely,” he agreed with another smile and headed off.

For several long moments, silence reigned at the table, and Tobin reached out to take a long gulp of champagne.

“Wait for the margaritas, Tobin,” Kate told her quietly.

“Not sure I can,” she answered and looked at Lisa. “I have not told my dad what happened, Lisa. He just had a heart attack. He does not need to know anything about what happened—he doesn’t need to know that I was kidnapped at gunpoint and that I could have very easily been killed. On what planet is it a good idea to tell a man who’d just had a heart attack about something like that? I came out tonight to try not to think about that, to try to think about anything except that for the first time since it happened.”

Lisa flinched. “I… I’m sorry, Tobin—I know, you’re right, I just… I can’t even imagine what that was like. I just wanted to… show my support or something, I dunno. I don’t know what to say.”

“I haven’t been able to be alone in my apartment since it happened. I wake up in the middle of the night screaming. Pretty much anything except for what you decided to say would have been a million times better, because what happened… what happened is never going to go away. And maybe it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, which, I know that, believe me, I know that, but it isn’t some news story to gawk at or Twitter feed to retweet to everyone you know. It actually happened, and… and I thought I could just have a night of fun. Just a night.”

Tobin took a deep breath, as a thoroughly cowed expression took over Lisa’s face. A few moments later, the waiter returned with their drinks, setting them down. She immediately reached for her own and put it to her lips, the salt stinging at them as the tequila pulsed down her throat. Only once half of it was gone did she put it back down and look across the table at Kate and Poppy, who looked just as abashed as Lisa did if for entirely different reasons. For a moment, she was silent, but then Tobin sighed and leaned back in her seat, shutting her eyes.

“Alright, with that out of the way,” Kate started, doing her very best to diffuse the tension. “So, Tobin’s cats are all staying with us at my apartment, of course. My dog, Oliver, is a pretty laid-back little guy, so he doesn’t mind them being there, but her cats have already decided that this is their new throne, and they don’t want to share it with a dog. Her calico, Autumn, just sits there staring at him for hours—”

“Excuse me,” Tobin murmured and got up from her seat, hurrying away from the table and to the restroom. None of the others followed her, and she was glad for that. She was shaking, and she shoved open the door hard enough that it banged on the wall as she nearly ran to the sink. Caught between a desire to cry and a desire to throw up, she bent over the basin and turned on the water—glad that it was a proper sink and not one of those stupid motion sensor ones—splashing it against her face.

As she did this, though, there was a sound from behind her in one of the stalls. Tobin lifted her head a little bit—moaning. Moaning and a bit of a… banging. Oh. Great. Just what she needed tonight, listening to two drunk idiots go at it in a restaurant bathroom. Just perfect.

“Someone could see us here.” Her voice was low and breathy as she glanced back at him—the lighting was still subtle even in the bathroom, brighter without being quite bright, and it glimmered faintly on the sleek black dress that clung to her tanned skin enticingly. The dress was short, giving a tempting glimpse of her thighs as they rubbed together faintly where he’d caught her against his chest.

“They could,” Sebastian agreed, smirking down at her. He could feel the quickness of her breath, her firm breasts rising and falling against his chest where his arm had trapped her against him. Her eyes were green and hazy, gazing up at him hungrily. “I’ll just have to find some way to keep you quiet, then, won’t I?”

“Mm... and how do you plan to do that, hm...?” Those eyes flashed up at him in a playful challenge—only to go wide as his strength lifted her against his chest, pulling her up toward him in the same moment as his lips descended upon hers. She tasted of champagne, of course—he probably did too, even if they’d only shared a few glasses before slipping away from the table. But her lips were yielding, and eager as the moment of surprise passed and she met the kiss, her eyes slipping shut as he ravished her lips, almost bruising them as he drank of her.

She squirmed against him, her breasts flush against his chest through the thin black dress. His shirt was only a little more of a barrier, dressy without being fancy and the top button already left undone. Her fingers had curled into it almost as soon as he’d caught her in his embrace, and now her eyes fluttered a second as his lips seared hers eagerly, her blond curls brushing against his cheek as she squirmed. Only when she moaned for him—a delicate, needily feminine sound—did he break the kiss, gasping faintly.

Her own gasp was louder as she gazed up at him, managing to meet his smirk. “I... I suppose that might do.”

“Perhaps I wasn’t convincing enough?” Her breath was quicker still, but his own had only begun to pick up as he arched a brow at her. But before she could respond, he spun them, still holding her against his chest; for a moment, he knew, she’d be able to glimpse her own face in the mirror behind him, her ruby lipstick smeared wantonly and her eyes dazed.

“Or maybe,” he whispered as he carried her into the nearest stall and pulled the door shut in a single smooth motion of his free hand, “you want to get caught—maybe it makes a naughty girl like you wet to think someone might hear her moaning.” He laughed, turning to pin her against the wall.

It was a real wall, not just a flimsy partition, and he pinned her squirming form against it, one knee lifted and thrust forward to part her thighs. That left his knee between her legs as he lowered her, and it caught her not quite upon the floor, her delicate weight grinding her core against it as she squirmed.

“Mmm... And what if I did want someone to hear...?” She managed to grin up at him, licking her lips suggestively as she ground herself against him.

“Then I’d make sure you moaned like a slut,” he answered, smirking down at her—he could feel the heat of her pussy against his knee, through the thin panties she wore, already wet enough to likely stain his pants. He barely cared about that, though, grinding his knee upon against her in turn; sliding down the wall had already hiked her skirt up most of the way around her hips. It took little more for one hand to reach up and pull the top down over her pert breasts, even as her own fingers hazily undid the buttons on his shirt.

“Then do it,” she challenged, thrusting her chest forward to crush her breasts against the bared strength of his chest as she leaned up and pressed her lips upon his. Sebastian met the kiss without hesitation pressing back upon her, lips plundering hers as he pushed his knee higher, until her feet weren’t quite touching the ground as she squirmed atop his leg.

Without breaking the kiss, he wrapped one arm around her again, pulling her toward him, sliding her core along his leg as his other hand found its way in between them, lifting her skirt away entirely. Carelessly, his thick fingers tore open the top of her lacy black panties; she made a sound of protest against his lips, but a heartbeat later his fingers had found her clit and that sound became a moan, her eyes slipping shut.

He held the kiss for a long moment, sliding her back and forth along his leg as his fingers teased her clit mercilessly, redoubling her squirming as she moaned into his mouth. The fingers of one hand laced into his hair, while the other had gone around his neck. This time, when the kiss broke, he was breathing harder, but he still managed to smirk at her.

“Hey, th-those were expensive,” she managed to pout between gasping breaths.

“I like you better without them.” His fingers squeezed her clit delicately and her head tipped back—only for her to whine in protest as his knee fell away, lowering her to the ground. He only arched a brow, catching her shoulders and spinning her, pushing her against the cool stone wall as his cock ground against her ass, one hand ensuring her skirt remained lifted. His knee pressed between her thighs again, keeping them spread as his fingers pulled away her ruined panties entirely, giving him a decidedly tempting view of her plump, pulsing slit.

When his fingers reached out to part her folds a moment later, she whined again and ground herself back against his touch, pouting back at him over her shoulder. He rewarded that by letting his fingers find her clit as his other hand undid his belt, letting his pants and underwear fall away to let his burning arousal spring free, hard and pulsing. He could feel her eyes upon him there, staring needily as he stepped out of his pants and drew back against the far wall of the stall. The blonde pouted at him.

“C’mon, what’re you—ahhh!”

Smirking, he caught her hips in her hands before she could finish and pulled her to him, sheathing himself in her in a single motion that won a startled cry of pleasure from her lips, one that eclipsed his own low groan of delight to feel her suddenly around him. The velvet heat of her tunnel was exquisitely tight, contracting around him as it found itself suddenly stretched open. He gave her only a moment to adjust to his size, though, to the sudden fullness.

No, gasping for breath, he started to move her—though his hips thrust forward each time he pulled her against him, it was her body that was moving, dominated utterly by his grip upon her hips. Words were lost to her now, as he pulled her against him again and again, each time driving deep into her core. She moaned wantonly between gasping breaths, a sound that mingled with his low groans, his length burning as her pussy gripped it with exquisite, maddening pressure. Each thrust threatened to push him over the edge, but he was too proud to give in to that.

And then at last he felt her core contract around him with almost painful tightness, a muted cry slipping from her lips as her body went taut against him. He shut his eyes tightly, pulling her quivering body tightly against him as he bit back a cry of his own and let his control slip, his cock swelling inside of her as he came, hard, filling her eager pussy, until at last the moment ended and they both stilled, breathing hard.

Distantly, as the ability to think returned, Sebastian wondered where she’d told Capozzi she was going tonight. She clearly hadn’t accepted his invitation with any intention of just having dinner.

For a long moment, they both stood there, breathless, until he realized that there was a sound outside the stall they were in. Despite himself, despite the fact that whoever was out there had definitely heard them, he smirked and chuckled a little bit before pulling out of her. Woozily, her knees shaking, she straightened and grabbed at the hem of her dress, pulling it back down over the curve of her ass and then grabbing her ruined, discarded panties off the floor. She shoved them into her purse, which somehow in the heat of all of that she had managed to hang on the back of the stall door. He decided not to wonder how she’d managed that, moaning like the slut she was.