“Who is it?” she called as she crossed her living room, pausing on one side.

“Seb.”

Her heart kicked as she flung the door open. And sure enough, there he was. One hand on either side of the doorjamb, larger than life. His winter coat was open at the zipper and his boots were mostly untied. His hair was covered in a stocking cap. He pinned her in place with his gray-green eyes.

“Seb! Oh my God. Come in!” She stepped aside and he came in, kicked off his boots and hung his winter wear on her coatrack. “Why are you here?”

“Matty’s grandma sent me back to Brooklyn.”

She closed the door and followed him into her living room. “Why?”

“Because I was moping about you.” Via’s heart skipped. “She said not to come back until I’ve figured a few things out with you.”

“What things?”

Seb didn’t answer. He was too busy trailing his eyes over her, devouring her. “You’re wearing your yoga clothes.”

“I went to a class earlier.”

He closed the distance between them in two steps and lifted her clean off her feet. He had two rough paws at her ass as she linked her feet behind his waist. “You drove me crazy that day you led the staff meeting through yoga. I’ve never wanted to bite someone’s ass more than I did yours.”

Via laughed as he stomped over to the couch and collapsed down on it with her straddled over his waist.

“As I recall, your ass looked pretty bite-able as well.”

He grunted, barely acknowledging her comment as he traced his hands down her sides and back up. He tangled his fingers in the straps of her sports bra. His eyes fell to her chest. “Hey, where’d your boobs go?”

“Seb!” She laughed, outraged and charmed at the same time. “Shut up. I have the kind of boobs that squish all the way down in a sports bra.”

“They don’t have that problem in other bras.”

“No, they’re very respectable in a push-up bra.”

He grunted again and this time his hips jutted upward just a little bit. He leaned forward and bit her exposed collarbone, his tongue tracing where his teeth just were.

“I should shower,” she whispered, trying to rise up off him. But he clamped an arm over her waist and held fast. “I’m sweaty.”

“Sweaty muffins.”

They both laughed, and Via rocked forward on him. “What things are we supposed to be discussing?”

“I don’t know,” he growled into her neck. “Can’t think.”

She laughed and rolled her neck to one side. “Try.”

He growled again; this time it was just pure, guttural noise. “She says I need to show you something.”

“Show me what?”

“It’s at my place.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you when I show you.” He bit the neckline of her tank top and peeled it down her chest just a little. She gasped when he buried his nose between her breasts and inhaled hard.