Kidnapped By An Assassin

Chapter Twenty-Two

He hugged me close to him as we kissed yet again. I had been in the cabin for at least five minutes. We just stood there, lips glued together and now our arms were too.

                “Sebastian?” I asked when we broke another kiss.

                “Yes, princess?” he whispered before kissing me again.

                “Where is Todd?” I asked him after breaking another sweet kiss.

                “He went to see his girlfriend for a few days. We are staying here and then we are to meet him in Africa. You don’t mind it being just us, do you?” he asked seductively as he lifted a flawless blonde brow, which caused me to giggle.

                “No, I don’t mind at all.”

                “Are you hungry?” he asked me. I was, but I was enjoying the affection he was giving me.

                “Kind of,” I told him as I bit my lip. His arms that had been on my hips moved to my upper back to pull me closer to him. His lips left a few butterfly kisses on my neck. It sent shivers up my spine.

                “Do you want to make dinner with me?” he asked, bringing his face to my level. I could smell his cologne. It made me feel right, like I was a puzzle piece that had finished the jigsaw puzzle.

                “With you?” I asked when I could compose a thought again.

                “Yes,” he laughed.

                “Okay.” I smiled at him as he took my hand.

                “What do you want to make?” he asked me. We were standing in the kitchen area. I was against the counter with his body against mine. One of his hands was on the counter, the other on my hip.

                “You-ou pick,” I stuttered, having a hard time being in this position. He laughed a bit.

                “How about spaghetti? And then maybe we could make a cake or something?” he asked, taking a step back. I smiled at him. “It’s kind of hot in here,” he said as he lifted his shirt over his head. I bit my lip as I looked at his perfect body. There was no way someone that perfect could love someone so imperfect.

                “That sounds wonderful,” I looked into his eyes until he got out the supplies.

                After we cooked and ate together I sat back to look at him. His blonde hair was shining in the light, as were his eyes. He looked like an angel.

                “That was delicious. You certainly can cook,” he told me. It had been very good.

                “Thank you,” I blushed a bit when I looked at his chest.

                “Do you want to make desert?” he asked, standing up to put our plates in the sink.

                “Sure,” I told him as I stood up too. By now he was getting out bowls and cake mix. I smiled at him and he smiled back.

                “So how did things go with you father?” he asked as we started opening the boxes of mix.

                “It was fine. I think I made him feel bad,” I told him. He handed me a knife to cut open the bag of chocolate cake mix.