Present Day…

The wind picked up, rattling the shutters and whistling through the trees. Lightning flashed, and thunder boomed in rapid succession. The kitchen light flickered once, twice, then extinguished. Rain pelted against the siding. An uneasiness prickled over my skin. Owen stopped, his hand on the door knob. More than anything, I wanted him to stay and take away the relentless ache between my legs and in my chest.

His shoulders lifted and fell in a heavy sigh, like he’d fought a battle and lost. “Fuck, Stella. What are you doing to me?”

Before I drew my next breath, he cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. I opened my mouth, inviting him in. The touch of his tongue shattered the last shreds of my self-control. Our bodies slammed together. He backed me against the wall, lifting my arms over my head and pinning my wrists together.

“I need to be inside you,” he growled against my mouth.

“Stop talking.” I scrabbled for the hem of his T-shirt and dragged the wet cotton over his head. The shirt landed on the floor with a sticky slap. His big, rough hands slid up and down my body, electrifying my senses. How many times had I imagined this moment? A dozen? A million? Never, in my wildest dreams, had it felt this good.

“Ah, Stella.” His voice wounded and soothed me, like broken glass wrapped in velvet. The heat of his breath puffed against the tender flesh of my neck. I never knew a man’s touch could feel so good and so wrong at the same time.

We blurred into a mass of clutching fingers and searching hands. I pushed his jeans down his hips. “Condom?” I asked.

“Wallet. Back pocket,” he rasped. I dug through his wallet for the foil packet. My fingers trembled as I slid the condom over his erection.

This was craziness, but I couldn’t stop myself. Caught under the spell of his male scent and trapped between his body and the wall, I stopped caring about right and wrong. The tragedy of our past faded away in the heat of the present. I climbed up his body, wrapping my legs around his waist. With one giant shove, he slid inside me. His grunt echoed in the silence. I hissed at the instant pleasure.

“I used to dream about fucking you like this.” He started a bruising rhythm. My head thudded against the wall with each thrust. I clutched his back, dragging my nails across his damp flesh. “Stella. My Stella.”

“I’m here,” I said. “Your Stella.”

Waves of bliss rolled from my center to my toes. In the distance, I heard our moans and sighs. I opened my eyes to see our reflection in the window. Owen drove into me, buttocks flexing, his big body covering my smaller one. With his bare chest wedged against mine, I felt his heart thundering. Tears burned my eyes. Until this moment, I’d been half a person, floundering in the darkness, but here, with him, I became whole again.

“I never meant to hurt you, Stell.” He doubled his pace. His frantic thrusts brought me to the brink of orgasm. I hovered on the edge, my body shuddering, totally lost in his lips and touch. When his fingers wrapped around my throat, the tears began for real, sliding over my cheeks and dripping off the point of my chin. “I gave up everything for you, and I’d do it again. That’s how much you mean to me.”

“Owen.” I gasped his name as the world crashed down around me. His legs quaked, his movements becoming uncoordinated and rough. Electricity licked up my body. My sex spasmed around him, carrying him to orgasm with me. We clung together. The night air filled with the sounds of thunder, rain on the roof, and our harsh breathing. A thrill ran through me, carried on a wave of danger. I was playing with fire. At any moment, one of us might combust, and I didn’t care. I wanted him to consume me, to burn me down to ashes.

He rested his forehead against mine and skimmed a hand along my ribcage. His hand stopped at my breast. The warm weight of his fingers caged my flesh, claiming me. My nipple hardened against his palm. We stayed like that for a few minutes, until our breathing slowed.

“What happened that night—to Chris?” It was the first time I’d said his brother’s name aloud in eighteen years. Until we faced the truth, we’d both be slaves to our secrets. “We’ve got to talk about it, Owen. I can’t rest until I figure this out.”

“Not now. Not tonight.” Slowly, he let me slide down his body until my feet hit the floor. We stared at each other. I couldn’t get enough of him. I drank in every detail of his face, memorizing him in case he disappeared from my life again. He brushed a tender kiss across my mouth. “Seeing you every day, it’s killing me. I can’t keep pretending like you never meant anything to me,” he said.

“And I can’t let you walk away,” I replied.