His Plump Mate (Book 1: The 'His' Series) novel Chapter 185

Author

Sebastian drove back to his apartment, his mind churning over the information his men had gathered.

Cecilia had received messages from Amara the night before… He rubbed his temple in frustration.

He had overestimated his mother’s tolerance and simultaneously underestimated her tactics.

After work, Cecilia had arranged to go shopping with Harper.

She needed some noise and distraction to chase away the gloom setfling in her chest.

They shopped until ten o’clock before heading their separate ways.

Cecilia

As I pulled into my parents’ driveway, humming along to the radio with shopping bags filling my passenger seat, I spotted a tall figure standing beneath the Aspen.

My tune faltered immediately.

After drinking too much at lunch and spending the afternoon in a haze, Sebastian had let me rest in my office until closing time.

When I’d gone to his office before leaving, he simply told me I could go home.

I thought I wouldn’t see him again today.

I grabbed my shopping bags from the passenger seat and approached him cautiously. “Mr. Black? What brings you here at this hour?” I stood before him, keeping my tone deliberately casual.

As if I’d just bumped into my boss on the street, nine parts pretense beneath a veneer of friendliness.

The light was dim beneath the tree, though a nearby street lamp cast enough of a glow for us to see each other’s faces.

Sebastian’s sharp gaze drifted from my face to the shopping bags in my hands.

“Sobered up?”

“Yes, completely,” I said with a nod. “I actually have a decent tolerance

-I get tipsy quick but bounce back just as fast.”

“I can see that. That’s almost Olympic-level recovery.”

“I wasn’t even that drunk to begin with. I always know my timits.”

“Yes, you do seem like someone who knows her boundaries,” he said with a quiet chuckle.

tightened my grip on the bags.

The conversation stalled. The air between us turned heavy and still.

My carefully rehearsed nonchalance was starting to unravel like a sweater caught on a nail.

Sebastian just stood there, without saying a word.

His stance was relaxed, but his eyes had that quiet, assessing sharpness-like a lawyer who already knows the answer but asks the question anyway, just to watch you squirm.

I felt a surge of irritation.

“Did you come here just to check whether I could walk in a straight line?”

I snapped, finally cracking.

“Well, here I am. You’ve seen it. Running a damn sobriety test in my driveway. Congratulations. You can leave now.”

Sebastian said nothing.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” My tone sharpened. “I’m going inside. It’s hot, and the bugs are getting aggressive. Stay out here if you’re feeling generous-maybe they’ll give you a loyalty card.”

I turned to leave.

But Sebastian moved-fast. He stepped right in front of me, blocking my way.

I walked straight into his chest.

Startled, I looked up. “What exactly do you want?” I asked, voice rising.

“It’s late. Are you letting me go to bed or what?”

“Walk with me,” he said, calm as ever.

“No. I want a shower, air conditioning, and to not deal with you.”

“Your temper’s flaring,” he said quietly, like he was noting the weather.

I had the sudden, violent urge to beat him with a bag of frozen pizza rolls.

Instead, he reached out and gently took the bags from my hands.

Then he caught my free hand in his, his thumb brushing softly over my knuckles.

“Just a short walk. Please?”

His touch, damn him, had a way of quieting the storm inside me.

“Half an hour,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

He nodded. “Half an hour. Not a minute more.”

Still holding my hand, he turned toward the sidewalk. “Come on. Let’s go donate blood to the local mosquito population.”

1 didn’t dignify that with a response.

We walked in silence through the neighborhood, past manicured lawns and porch lights glowing like fireflies.

Eventually, we reached a small playground tucked between rows of houses-complete with creaky swings and a plastic slide faded by the sun.

“I’m done,” I said, slipping my hand from his and dropping onto one of the swings. “My feet are officially on strike.”

Sebastian set the shopping bags down and moved behind me without a word.

A moment later, I felt the gentle push of his hands, sending the swing into motion.

Every time | swung back, his palms caught my waist-steady, warm, and annoyingly perfect.

“I stopped by my parents’ place earlier,” he said casually.

My fingers curled around the swing’s ropes a little tighter.

My body floated forward, but my heart? It dropped straight into my stomach.

On the next swing back, he caught me again-hands firm at my sides, close enough that I could feel his breath near my ear.

“I told my mother her precious goddaughter scared the hell out of my secretary,” he murmured. “And maybe it was time she told Amara to back off.”

I froze mid-swing and craned my neck to look at him, startled.

He leaned down and kissed the corner of my eye-soft, unhurried, like this was something he did all the time.

“Relax,” he said. “Let me finish.”

Apparently, his mother had played innocent-claimed she had no idea what Amara was up to, insisted it wasn’t her idea, and reminded him she couldn’t exactly lock the girl in a tower to keep her from coming back.

“Which, fine,” he said with a shrug. “Even the government can’t stop someone from chasing bad decisions. Why should we? If she wants to come back, let her. Not my problem. But I did tell my mother something very clear-anyone who messes with my secretary is messing with me. And I don’t take kindly to that.” Another kiss, this time near the corner of my temple.

It made my eyes sting in that warm, infuriating way that said I was dangerously close to feeling something.

“Why would you even tell her that?” I asked softly. “Talking like that will just make them hate me more. They’ll think I’m… trying to seduce their son.”

Sebastian let out a low chuckle. “Well, aren’t you?”

I shot him a look over my shoulder.

He grinned.

“If they think you’re seducing me,” he said, “just tell them you’re not serious. You’re only toying with me.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over great. ‘Hi, ma’am, I’m just casually playing with your heir apparent.”

“You could pull it off,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek.

“You should try being bolder. You don’t need to carry the weight of the world. These things? They’re nothing.”

He leaned in again, tone low and steady. “You’re smart. Gorgeous.

Financially independent. The whole damn package. If anyone tries to mess with you, you tell me. I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to be scared of anything-not when I’m around.”

I pretended to think it over, tilting my head like I was giving it serious thought. “Hmm. That does sound convenient.”

I stood up, turned around and embraced him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

Rising on my tiptoes, I kissed him.

As if his words had given me genuine confidence.

His arms tightened around my waist, and I could feel his passion and joy…

Men are so easy to please, even someone as shrewd as Sebastian acted like an eager child in this moment.

He needed his candy, and he wouldn’t stop until I gave it to him. We kissed deeply, reluctant to part.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he murmured against my lips.

#pushed him away slightly, grabbed my shopping bags, and pulled him back toward the car.

He guided me into the driver’s seat and I started the engine.

Sebastian smiled. “Your half hour is up. Don’t you want to go home and rest?”

“What half hour? We’ve only been out for two minutes,” I insisted, tapping the clock with absolute certainty, as if he must have misunderstood the time.

I drove out of the neighborhood and into a nearby wooded area where the trees grew thick and no lights penetrated the darkness.

I turned off the headlights.

Suddenly, we were enveloped in complete darkness.

1 climbed over to the passenger side, straddling his lap and facing him.

My lips, soft as marshmallows, brushed against his as I whispered,

“Sebastian, I really like you.”

I pressed my lips to his, initiating the kiss, pulling him closer, tangling with him, kissing him passionately…

Cecilia

Summer dawn breaks early-by four-thirty, the first hints of light were already creeping into the sky.

By five o’clock, 1 was sneaking back into my parents’ home, tiptoeing to my room. I’d told Mom and Dad I might stay over after hanging out with Harper, so at least my arrival wouldn’t raise questions.

I slipped into the bathroom to wash away the evidence of our passion, Sebastian’s scent still clinging to my skin despite my best efforts.

When I finally collapsed into bed, my body ached in the most satisfying way.

I’d need to clean the car thoroughly… later.

At eight in the morning, I woke up after only three hours of sleep. The dark circles under my eyes were prominent, but I dragged myself out of bed and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

“When did you get home last night, honey?” Mom asked, placing breakfast on the table.

“A little after midnight,” I lied smoothly.

knew my parents were usually asleep by nine-they no longer stayed up worrying about me like when I was younger.

Now they trusted me to handle myself.

Mom made a noncommittal hum and peeled a hard-boiled egg with the kind of passive-aggressive precision only a mother can master.

She slid it onto my plate like it was a peace offering-or a bribe.

“You said you were staying here a few days,” she said, not looking at me. “Will you be home for dinner tonight?”

I slowed my spoon in my porridge. Oh no. That tone. That fake-casual tone

‘Tonight.” I dragged the word out like it hurt. “I might have to work late.”

Which wasn’t a lie. Probably. Okay, maybe a preemptive excuse, just in case she had another one of her “family dinner with the Fosters” planned.

She didn’t say anything-just a barely-there sigh and a twitch of disappointment. Subtle, but I caught it.

“What about Friday?” she asked, still playing it cool.

“Yvonne invited Harper and me to a charity gala.” I took a sip of coffee, like that settled it.

“And Saturday?”

“Business trip,” I said, reaching for the toast. “It came up last minute.”

Mom blinked. “A gala on Friday and a business trip on Saturday?”

I gave her a look. “Welcome to capitalism, 2025.”

She let out a long sigh, the kind only mothers and exhausted flight attendants have mastered, and started to stand up.

Then she hesitated.

Sat back down.

“You’re going with Mr. Black, aren’t you?” she asked, tone shifting from resigned to suspicious.

1 didn’t look up. Just mumbled, “Mmhm,” into my porridge.

“Just the two of you?”

“No,” I said evenly. “It’s a work trip. There’ll be a team. Meetings. A lot of PowerPoint. Very sexy.”

“Does it have to be you who goes?”

“I’m his secretary, so yes, obviously.”

“Cecilia, maybe it’s time to consider looking for another position,” Mom said, in that soft, carefully measured voice she used when she was trying not to sound judgmental. “You’re spending a lot of time around him. People notice. And. you know how things go.”

If only she knew something already had.

My parents weren’t the pearl-clutching type. They didn’t freak out over sleepovers or wine with dinner

But when it came to werewolves-especially powerful, emotionally unavailable alphas-yeah. They had opinions.

Loud, unspoken ones.

And after everything l’d gone through with Xavier, they had every reason to worry.

“I know what I’m doing,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “It’s not like that. I have boundaries.”

Each word tasted like guilt.

I scraped the last of my eggs into the trash, rinsed my plate with a little too much enthusiasm, and practically bolted toward the stairs.

Behind me, I heard Mom let out a long, quiet sigh.And then the doorbell rang.

I froze halfway up the steps, the sound slicing through the quiet like a warning.

Please let it be a package. Or a neighbor. Or literally anyone who wasn’t going to make this morning worse.

opened the door-

And the breath caught in my throat.

Because standing there, completely out of place and utterly uninvited, was the last person I’d ever expected to see.