Shit, I need to get it together. Panting when I walk in there probably isn’t the most attractive thing in the world.
Two deep breaths and it’s time to suck it up.
One.
Two.
I fluff my hair a little, begin to pinch my cheeks for color, but realize the level of embarrassment I’m about to experience is color enough. I bend over to pull my boobs up a little in my bra, ensuring my cleavage is prime, and the lace edges of my bra are peeking out. At a time like this, cleavage is important and thankfully, one of my best assets.
Picking up the freshly made drinks, I walk back into the living room. Standing with his back to me, Owen is looking at the small bookshelf I have in the corner. The items on that shelf are simply décor. I mean, I’m sure someone would read one of those books, I’m just not that person. The books I read are all securely residing on my e-reader and safe from prying eyes. Specifically, the two little sets of eyes that saw one of my prized signed paperbacks and asked me endlessly why I have a naked man on my book. I boxed up my paperbacks and they won’t see the light of day until I have my own place.
I watch silently as Owen reaches for a book on a higher shelf and his shirt rides up. Goodness. His shirt lifts just enough so that I see the waistband of his boxers and a sliver of his skin. I know under that fitted T-shirt lies a toned, tanned, and tattooed body. Remembering the day at the Kaplan project and the kiss we shared sends a wave of lust through my body.
This is a really bad idea. I need to just finish this drink and then tell him I’m tired. Hell, I should turn around and dump these drinks down the sink. Only, that’s unfair to the vodka. Regardless, I’m about to do just that when Owen turns and spies me over his shoulder and smiles.
Panties, poof.
“Hey,” he breathes out.
“Umm, hey. So, I made another drink.” Way to state the obvious. I’m so bad at this.
Owen turns and steps toward me. My breath catches and those nerves I had before are intensifying to a level beyond description. I shouldn’t be nervous. I’m a strong, independent woman. I’m not completely horrible to look at. I mean, sure, my ass is a little bigger than I’d like and thigh gap isn’t necessarily something that comes naturally to me, but still. I look good.
Suddenly in my personal space, I feel a change in the energy of the room. The music is still playing in the kitchen and Stay with Me by Sam Smith comes on as I hold out Owen’s glass toward him. Instead of taking his glass, he takes both and sets them on the side console table.
Shit, shit, shit.
I clear my throat a little even though it isn’t necessary. Suddenly all the bravado I mustered in the kitchen slips away as I watch Owen intently look at me. A smirk comes across his face as he steps toward me. We’re so close, I can smell a hint of his cologne and I know beneath my lace bra my nipples are hard.
“Uh, I was going to drink that.” Owen’s smirk increases to a smile as he places his hand to my waist, tugging me slightly so I’m flush with him.
“Were you?” His voice is gravelly, like he’s parched. My response is a nod.
“I don’t think you were. Do you know what I think?”
I shake my head.
So much for strong, independent woman. I’m a puddle of nothing standing here. We’ve kissed before, but this feels different. Each time before it was in the moment. It was spontaneous. This is calculated. Intentional.
“I think you know how much sitting here with you and not touching you is killing me. I think you know that when you walked into the kitchen in these shorts I had to hide my hard dick behind the counter, pretending to slice up an entire pound of cheese until it went away. Which, by the way, it never did.”
I swallow, unsure of how to respond. Oddly enough, the fact that he sliced an entire pound of cheese is the only thing I can think of. If I think about what he’s saying I’m going to run. I’m going to push him away. This intensity is too much but it’s probably why I need it so badly.
Owen slips his hand from my waist to my mid-back while his other hand snakes around my neck, brushing my hair out of the way. His head drops to mine so our foreheads are touching, our breaths lingering becoming one. He’s so close. Those lips I long to taste again are close enough; a flick of my tongue will end my longing.
“Minnie, what are you doing to me? You know this is a bad idea, don’t you?”
I nod in response. I expect him to let me go, but he doesn’t. Instead he tugs my neck. It’s a gentle tug that brings our lips together. Soft and sweet. That’s how he starts the kiss. My hand goes to his arm, anchoring me to him.
“We shouldn’t.” His words are a mumble against my lips.
“Who says?” I whisper.
“You’re mad at me.” His lips are gentle against mine as he speaks.
“Don’t let it happen again.”
He brushes his lips against mine in response, lightly kissing me. It only takes me a single breath before I realize soft and sweet isn’t what I need. Overcome with need, I swipe my tongue over his lips, seeking permission to deepen the kiss. I feel a small smile on his lips as he grants permission. I moan as the intensity of the kiss deepens. Our tongues are dancing and it’s perfect.
My hands reach around and find his back. Instantly my hands find their way under his shirt. On instinct, I twist my hands in his shirt and begin tugging it up. I want it off. I need it off. I need to feel him. I need to touch his skin.
So much need.
Instead of giving in to my tugs, Owen slows our kiss and begins to pull away. I groan my displeasure of him slowing the kiss and he laughs.
He laughs. What the hell?
“Are you laughing?”
“I am, but not because of any reason you can come up with in your perfect little brain.”
“Then why?” My words forced between pants. I’m so fucking turned on right now and he’s laughing.
“I’m laughing because I swear if you moan one more time, I’m going to cream in my pants. Fuck, Minnie, you’re killing me. I want you so bad and I know I can’t have you.”
His hands are still on me. The hand on my back makes it to my neck, both hands anchoring me to him. My hands are still on his back, but the frustration of him laughing is too much and I start to pull away. He doesn’t allow it.
“I want you to have me.” My voice is low as my hands move to his sides, sliding up and down. I feel his skin pebble with goosebumps. When my hands make their way to his chest, I can feel how fast his heart is beating. I take that as a sign and drop my right hand between us, rubbing my fingers across the front of his jeans.
Grabbing my hand, he removes it from my very enjoyable rubbing and brings it to his mouth. “Don’t take this as me not wanting you. Nothing could be further from the truth. You have to know how much I want you.”
I’m done playing as I pull my hand from his grasp and cup him through his jeans. He hisses in response. “Fuck. You’re playing with fire.” I smile in response as I look up at him through my lashes. I see nothing but desire and lust as his hands find their way back to my neck and tug my head back.
“I’d like to take you and fuck you up against that wall, but only after I’ve laid you across that table and tasted what I expect is your very sweet and perfect pussy.”
“You can’t say that and leave me hanging here,” I pout.
“I just don’t think either of us are thinking clearly tonight. We’re friends, I don’t want to cross that line with you.”
“Owen, we’re adults. I’m not asking for a white picket fence and forever. Quite the opposite. I’m tired of doing the right thing and being responsible. I want to just feel. Make me feel, Owen.”
I don’t think his name has left my lips before he takes my lips with his again. This kiss isn’t gentle or sweet. It’s hard and fast. Air is sucked from my lungs as he takes control exactly how I need him to. He quickly pulls from my mouth, leaving me gasping as he kisses down to my neck. Oh, sweet mother that’s good.
My response to this perfectly good, and clit-throbbing, kiss fest is to grab Owen’s belt buckle and lead him into my room. He chuckles as I back into the door frame, but I don’t care.
I need this. I fucking deserve this.
By the time we take the few short steps to my room, I’ve managed to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans. His hands reach for the hem of my tank and with a tug it’s off and somewhere on the floor. I bite my lip in a sudden moment of self-doubt but the appreciation Owen has for my breasts is enough to squash any doubts. Putting his distraction to my advantage, I tug at the hem of his shirt. This time, his arms rise, pulling the shirt off.
I gasp at the perfection that is before me. His ink weaves from his back, down his sides so that it just lines both indentations that create a V that demands to be licked. Slowly. Stepping up to him and kissing him, I quickly tug at his jeans. “Off,” I demand. He complies, and the moment he steps out of his jeans, I begin to drop to my knees, slowly licking each side of his V as I do.
Peering up at him through my lashes, I see Owen’s head dropped back with his eyes closed. I grab his beautiful hard cock in my hand and release it from his boxers as I take the tip of my tongue to his shaft. His hand goes to my head and it’s all the incentive I need to take him fully into my mouth. After only a few licks of my tongue on the underside of his dick, I feel him pull my head and release himself from my mouth while tugging me up to a standing position.
“I told you kissing you was more than I could handle. Your mouth is going to send me over the edge and I want that moment to be together, with me inside you. On the bed.”
Oh God, does he know I like the alpha male? If he dirty talks too I’m a goner. I’ll come right here. I slip off my shorts and throw them toward the other clothes on the floor. Laying back on the bed, my head hits the pillow as my feet draw my knees closed. I watch as Owen pulls a condom from his jeans, tossing it on the bed, and pulling his boxers off.
Suddenly, I’m feeling overdressed. Just as I’m having this thought, Owen is before me on his knees, grabbing the sides of my panties and pulling them off. Lifting my hips off the bed, my knees open. I begin to close them again.
“No, spread your legs.” I do.
“Fuck,” is all he says before dropping his mouth to me. The moment his tongue touches my lips, my back arches and my eyes close. His tongue quickly finds my clit and it’s seconds before I’m overcome with the orgasm I’ve been on the brink of since the moment I met him.
While I’m coming down from what may be the most intense, and quickly achieved, orgasm of my life, I hear the foil of the condom wrapper tear. Leaning over me, Owen is between my legs and kissing me as I beg for more, for all of him, with my body. No words, just my body begging to be fucked.
Tugging the cups of my bra down, Owen shifts his mouth from mine to my nipple, first taking one in his mouth before giving the other attention. I reach between us, taking his cock in my hand and lining it up with me, urging him to enter me. Pulling his lips and tongue from my nipple, he raises his face so he’s looking in my eyes.
It’s a moment, a short moment, but one that I’ll hold on to forever. The moment I see an array of emotions pass between us. This is what I’ve been missing. This type of passion. This intensity of not being able to get enough of one another.
With a single thrust, Owen enters me and I gasp. “Oh God, Owen.”
“Fuck, Min, you feel so fucking good. So tight, baby, I’m not going to last.”
“Please, Owen. Fuck me. Make me come.”
“Put your hands over your head. Hold on to that headboard.”
I do. I hold on while he fucks me. This isn’t making love. This is pure unadulterated fucking. This is what I want, this is what I need. I feel another orgasm building as he puts his hand under me, lifting my hips. The change in position causes me to bite down on my lip in an effort to not scream.
“Baby, your pussy feels so good. Goddamn, you’re so wet. Is your pussy wet for me like this all day? Do you think of me all day?”
“Oh, God. I’m so close.”
“Do you, baby? Do you think of me all day?” he asks again as he lifts my leg over his arm.
“Fuck, yes. I do. Every day, oh God. I’m coming.”
A moan and another thrust and Owen meets me at the end of my orgasm. He doesn’t pull out immediately. Instead, he pulls my hands from above my head and releases them from my hold on the headboard, one of his hands coming to my face and pushing the hair out of it. A sweet kiss to the lips and he rolls off. I turn to my side, my breath labored. I hear him toss the condom to the side before curling up behind me and pulling the sheet covers over us.
For the first time in a long time, I feel satisfied.
And hopeful we’ll be doing that again.