Chapter Thirteen

Nadia

HE STEPPED INTO THE bathroom as I brushed my teeth in front of the mirror. His large body stood behind mine, and I was instantly glad that I had picked short cotton shorts and a lace-topped camisole to wear to bed. Even with the warm summer weather we were having, I enjoyed the heat that radiated off Owen’s body.

Rinsing my mouth, I stared at the reflection behind me. As I tracked each of his movements, an easy calm settled into my chest and my shoulders fully relaxed. He was dressed in worn navy pajama pants I knew firsthand were probably about five years old but buttery soft; I appreciated the way they hung low on his hips. His bare chest was all my eyes could look at, taking in his broadness and the perfect amount of dark hair that was sprinkled all over, leading toward a tantalizing dark trail running south to a delicious part of him I knew all too well.

Setting my toothbrush into the holder, I turned the water off and looked right into his green eyes. Without breaking our eye contact, he leaned forward; his warm breath fanned over my bare shoulder and a shiver ran through me. Just like that, desire hit me like a Mack truck. My thighs clenched together, my breasts felt heavy, and my nipples ached with need as they stiffened into two peaks.

“Owen,” I whimpered as his hand wrapped around me from behind and the wet heat from his mouth touched the skin on my shoulder. I broke out in goose bumps from head to toe.

“Hmm…” his voice rumbled, but he didn’t stop. He kept giving me open-mouthed kisses, from my shoulder up to my neck.

“Owen… Babe…” I swallowed hard trying to get control of my breathing and not minding when I failed.

“Shh…” he murmured. I couldn’t keep my head up. When I let it fall back, he held on to me. I knew if my knees went any weaker than they already were, he would hold me up. He always had. The realization made me stand straighter. A lightbulb turned on in my brain. I turned around in his arms.

“What—”

“I love you,” I announced, not withholding the words. Life was too short to not say the words out loud.

“Nad—”

“I love you and I’m sorry.” I was. I should have told him how I felt, but I hadn’t found the words before. I had been lost in my own head, year after year. I was the one who had pasted on fake smiles time and time again, not communicating my own needs.

“Honey—”

“I should have talked to you.” My voice was thick, and I needed to touch him.

I missed being close to him.

I needed to have my hands all over him.

Just as much as I needed his on me.

My hands rushed under his shirt and pulled it up his torso. Thankfully, his hands got into the mix. I stepped back, soaking in the sight. He graciously helped me pull it over his head, and damn if the sight of him doing it, letting it fall haphazardly to the ground, didn’t make me hungrier. Needier.

I raked my nails down his pecs to his flat stomach. A thrill shot up my spine as I watched his abs contract. I loved when they did that.

“Fuck,” he hissed deeply, and I felt incredibly powerful. Feminine. Sexy. A lot more than I had in a very long time.

Licking my lips, I grazed my fingers downward, following the soft trail of dark hair toward the waistband of his pants, but before I could slip my hand in and reach for the very hard and thick prize waiting for me, I found my wrists in his hands, and my back was suddenly pinned against the wall of the bathroom.

“What…” I gasped looking up at him, not missing the way his gaze burned, singeing my skin with exquisite heat.

“You aren’t going to touch me,” he announced, and I felt slightly confused while extremely turned on.

“What? Why not?” I stuttered. He leaned in closer, so close I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead, he made me whimper with lust. His nose skimmed the side of my face and down my neck, teasing my senses, making my thighs clench tightly.

“Do you remember when we first met?” he asked, his voice like gravel in my ear, rough and scratchy, only adding fuel to my need.

“Of course, I do. First day of…” I started to say, but he hushed me and I stopped talking.

“Remember how I didn’t let you touch me then either?” he reminded me, and I looked at him.

“Baby…” I had no words. I swallowed hard, my eyes pinned on his sage-green ones, and let the memories rush back.

We had been together for a week or two, nothing more than hot and heavy make-out sessions that had led to touching and further until he found out I was a virgin. He didn’t want to push me into anything, reminding me over and over that I wasn’t ready.

At the beginning, he was right and ultimately, I was thankful. Young, raging hormones flying, I would have given something that at the end of the day I had not been ready to give. Never, not once in those months, almost a year, of waiting did I worry what we did do wasn’t enough for him. He always let me know what I meant to him.

You’re everything to me. You’re it for me, he told me over and over, and I wondered how the hell he knew that at eighteen, but he did. Thankfully, as much as a gentleman as he was, a saint he wasn’t. We messed around. A Lot. Hands and mouths, hell, even toys. Everything we did together more beautiful and hotter than the last time. In the almost year we had taken to move our relationship to that level, we had spent it getting to know one another and our bodies better than we had known our own.

“Please tell me you aren’t planning on waiting a year this time,” I muttered, ignoring how whiney I sounded as his face changed. A wolfish grin spread over his face and his eyes darkened with promise.

“Not a year,” he taunted, sensually nuzzling my sensitive skin. How long had it been since he had done this? Taken his time with me? Seduced me?

“How long?” I asked as a mewl escaped from deep inside me when his lips touched my neck so damn softly it made my head swim. My blood bubbled and heated up, making my body ache for more.

“I don’t know,” he murmured lowly against my skin. “I just know that right now,”—his nose nuzzled the shell of my ear—“right here, this part of us… has to be about you.”

“Owen—”

“Shhh… let me make you feel good,” he proposed, and I licked my lips. It sounded so good, but I wanted to play, too. I wanted to touch and explore him. I wanted to make him desperate for more of me.

“Why can’t we both touch each other?” I asked. His and his hands tightened around my wrists. I fought from grinning, knowing I had struck a nerve. He loved when I talked dirty to him. “I want to make you feel good too, Owen,” I whispered, my voice softer than usual, and his head dipped to my collarbone, a distinctive hardness nudging at my belly.

“Nadia,” he warned me, and I arched my chest into his. His head popped up, his lips crashing onto mine. I squirmed and writhed, aching to have him lose control so I could have my fill of him, but he didn’t.

“Owen…” I started to protest, but my words diminished as one of his large, strong hands held both my wrists, while his other cupped my breast over my camisole before he roughly pulled it up and squeezed.

“Fuck.” His hiss sent shivers all over my body. “Love how you feel in my hands.” He sounded like he was talking to himself as his lips moved down my neck and to my collarbone. “You ever think of changing your body, I’ll tie you to our bed.”

“Owen.” I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m fucking serious, Nadia.” He licked and bit the tip of my straining nipple before he looked back up at me. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m not,” I immediately bit back, feeling unsure about being in this position with him. The lights were turned on, and I couldn’t even remember what panties I had put on under my cotton shorts. When was the last time I had trimmed up down there? It wasn’t a jungle, but it was far from a neatly mowed lawn.

“Stop,” he snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked at him—really looked at him—and I scowled.

“Stop what?”

“Thinking.”

“You can’t just tell me—”

“Whatever shit you’re thinking about is obviously just that. Shit.” He scowled. I realized he had let go of my wrists above my head and was now holding me at my waist. I frowned.

“I’m not perfect, though,” I pushed again, feeling the overwhelming, extremely unnecessary need to argue with him. I was done trying to carry the illusion of what my body once looked like; he had to realize I would never look like that again. I didn’t want to. “I don’t look like I did when we first got together!” I awkwardly blurted out, too loudly, and he stilled, his green eyes shining with obvious surprise.

“What the fuck?” he mumbled, but it was like I couldn’t stop.

“I will never have that body again. Not even if I killed myself at the gym. After the girls… shit changed, Owen, and I know I don’t look like the women you create—”

“I don’t want perfect,” he stated. I laughed.

“Right!” I scoffed, knowing very well I was completely ruining the sexy mood we had just been in. “That’s why you always point out how I shouldn’t eat crap or graciously remind me that a trip to the gym wouldn’t hurt? Or how cupcakes are extra calories I really don’t need?”

“I don’t do that,” he gritted; his cheeks reddened, but I kept going.

If we were going to bring our relationship back to life, I had to be honest. This ugly part of us had to come out from the darkness and into the light because there was no way I could keep burying my head in the sand about it. Not if we were serious about fixing things and sticking together for the long run.

“You do that shit all the time!” I semi-shouted and took a deep breath realizing I was shaking, finally letting what his words had done, how they affected me, purge from within. “You do that all the time and in front of people.”

“I… no… I—”

“Simone, Paul… our family! Hell, you just did it when we talked about going to dinner when you picked up Vivi and I suggested going to Pink’s!”

“Baby—”

“I had a moment. I wasn’t going to do it. But it made sense in that moment. Why not call to find out about having a mommy makeover? You make perfect women every day,” I pointed out before stomping out of the bathroom, knowing he was right behind me. Standing by the bed, I looked at him and opened my mouth, but he beat me to it.

“Nadi—” he tried to interrupt my rant, but I wasn’t going to have it. Not anymore.

“And I’m not perfect. I wasn’t before kids, and you know what, Owen? I’m sure as shit not going to be after seven years! I like food. I love desserts. And wine! But I work out. I’m active. But I’m not about to kill myself at the gym and starve myself so that I can look like the women in magazines or the ones you create!”

“I don’t—” he started, but it was time to put it all out there.

“And on top of that, I don’t want our girls to have the image you help boost ingrained into their heads of what they’re supposed to look like!”

“Wait, what?” he scowled, taking a step back.

“You add and suck and nip and tuck women every day! All so they look like blow-up dolls.”

“I don’t do botched jobs!” he stated. I knew he didn’t. No. Owen was one of the best in California at what he did.

“Oh, I know! You do such a freaking amazing job that they all look like they hit the perfect body lottery.”

“Baby—”

“I have a belly. I have stretch marks. And my breasts… well, let’s just say they aren’t as perky as they were when I was twenty. Not unless I’m wearing a fantastic bra!” I brushed a strand of hair out of my face.

“I know, babe,” he calmly said. His tranquil tone stopped me in my tracks from the back-and-forth pacing I had started. Meeting his stare, I watched as he tilted his head toward me.

“What?” I asked. My stomach felt like it had dropped to my toes. Watching him move, slowly closing the space between us, I suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed.

“I know your body.” The steady tone of his voice made me sway closer to him. His hand cupped my cheek, and I blinked away the sting of unshed tears. “I know every curve and angle and mark and spot…” When our foreheads touched, I breathed in the familiar scent of him. His skin and cologne and just Owen. “I might not know them as well as I should because of recent…”

“Inactivity?” I helped out and watched one side of his lips tilt upward. My heart stuttered in my chest at how good he looked.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “But I know it. I love your body. I don’t want you to look like the women I work on,” he told me cautiously. I blinked, letting the words he just said settle.

“You don’t?”

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes clear, and I felt like he was actually seeing me. “And the shit I say… I’m sorry, Nadia.”

“You’re…sorry?” I asked carefully.

“I didn’t realize what I was doing. I never meant to make you feel anything other than loved. The fact I failed you once again, on top of not being there and giving you and our family time, kills me, babe.”

“You didn’t fail me.”

“I did. I made you feel...” The volume of his voice changed to a low whisper. “You should have felt like the most beautiful creature every day since I came into your life, and I dropped the ball saying stupid, insensitive shit. I’m sorry,” he apologized, surprising me, which was painfully obvious as I tried to find the right words.

“Baby—”

“From today on, things are going to change.” His deep tone made me shiver. “Starting this fucking moment, that’s going to change,” he vowed, taking a step forward, in turn making me take one back.

“Owen—” I started to say, but he stopped moving, so we simply stood in front of one another. “Owen?” I broke the silence; every nerve throughout my body tingled.

“Take off your top,” he ordered. Heat washed through my entire body, making my sex spasm and wetness soak through my panties. “Now, Nadia,” he directed, and I pressed my lips together knowing that there was no way in hell I was going to argue. Hell, no.

I needed to feel close to him.

Intimacy.

Something I had not had with him in way too long.

Something we needed badly.

Owen

His body was yelling at him to take her and take her hard.

The vision of slamming his dick into her was clear as day in his mind and made his balls ache. But it wasn’t what she needed from him. Hell, it wasn’t even what they needed as a couple right now.

Dropping to his knees in front of her, he pinned his eyes to the soft flesh of her stomach. She had held their babies there.

Every mark printed there showed that.

His mark on her.

He’d planted his seed and it had taken root; and she had given him the most precious gift he had ever received. Why the hell would she think he would ever want her to erase that?

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, loving the way her hands felt at his shoulders, right before he kissed the swell of her stomach.

“Owen, you don’t have to—” she started to protest. She had done this in the past whenever he had tried to go down on her after she had the girls, but this time, he wasn’t going to let her push him away. Tonight, and every night after this, would be about her. About them.

Looking up at her dark eyes, he licked his lips before telling her, “I want to. I need to.”

“Babe—”

“Shh, please, Nadia, it’s been too long.” And fuck if that wasn’t an understatement.

He missed this part of them.

How hot they ran between the sheets. How wet and wild she would get for him when he took his time and made it about her. How long has it been? He had messed up so badly in the past, not giving her this, not giving her his time, but that was behind them. He would work himself ragged making it up to her. Showing her exactly what she meant to him.

His hands moved to the lace-trimmed waistband of her black-and-white dotted panties and slowly brought them down. His eyes followed the material pass her hips, down her thighs and calves until he bunched the soft fabric in his hands before letting them fall by her feet. His fingers grazed the outside of her feet and back up to her ankles. Owen didn’t miss the way her body trembled with anticipation beneath his touch. He breathed in deeply as his hands trekked up and straight to heaven. My own heaven on earth.

He took another deep breath, his nose nuzzling her mound. His mouth watered. Her feminine scent filled his lungs and he loved how turned on she was for him. His hands pulled apart her thighs; her skin prickled with goose bumps beneath his hands.

“Nadia?”

“Hmm?” she muttered. He smiled against her thigh before kissing it.

“I think you should get into bed.” The words felt like gravel coming out of his mouth; he needed her so fucking badly.

“Oh?” Her knees trembled. “Why?” she asked, sounding confused. When she shifted, he got a great view of her pretty little clit popping out, and he couldn’t help it. He took a swipe at it. Her taste filled his mouth and he grunted, clenching his hands tighter against her soft skin.

“You’re going to want to get comfortable,” he rumbled and licked her again before kissing her swollen pearl, his hands holding on to the back of her knees.

“Owen,” she moaned. He wanted to stay on his knees to worship her, but he knew he should get her on their bed. Owen kissed her hip before standing up and lifting her in his arms like he did on their wedding night. Like he did the night he gave in and took her for the first time almost a year into their relationship. Her hands wrapped around his neck and their eyes locked onto one another.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he told her a hairsbreadth away from her lips. She took hold of his face, making him stop right by the edge of the bed. Her eyes shone with love and desire.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips so softly he almost thought he imagined it, but it had been real. He couldn’t stop the growl that escaped from him as his heart started to beat hard against his chest at her words.

“I love you, too,” he told her slowly and with so much emotion he was afraid he’d lose it and cry. Instead, he clenched his jaw, lowered her onto the center of the bed, and kneeled in front of her.

Without hesitation, his mouth went to her sex. He watched Nadia throw her head back into the pillows. The sight of her doing that was like a fucking badge of honor. He licked and sucked and kissed, taking in each and every moan and sound she made. His dick was so hard it was painful, but he ignored it.

Taking his time, he slowed when he felt her body start to tense, edging her pleasure, loving the way her hands gripped the sheets, her knuckles white.

“Please,” she begged in a panted whisper. He slid his middle finger into her slick heat and went back to working her with his mouth. Her thighs closed around his head, muffling the sounds of her soft cries, but he focused on her body. He ignored his own erection and kept licking and kissing her. Hot and wet, she started to tighten around his finger. He slid in another. Nadia’s voice was hoarse and her words almost incoherent; he couldn’t help but smile on the inside as he reminded them both of who she belonged to.

He worked her with his mouth and fingers all the way, not pulling away even as her walls closed in around his fingers. When she clenched, he quickened his ministrations, feeling her fingers tug on his hair. The sting of her pulling on it as she came didn’t bother him; if anything, it spurred him to keep going. This time gentler, milking her orgasm as long as he could. He could hear her hard breathing start to slow, so he softened his own actions. Kissing the insides of her thighs, he looked up at her. Her beautiful breasts heaved up and down, her nipples pointed upward and hard.

“You okay?” he asked against her thigh, while his hands soothed and stroked her legs up and down softly.

“Not even close,” she answered with a grin on her face. “Owen, that was…”

“Not too bad?”

“Freaking amazing.” She giggled. Owen watched her beautiful face turn serious.

“What’s the matter?” he asked and felt her eyes look down his body then back up at him. She licked her lips. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Are you hard?” she asked, and he swallowed before standing up.

“I am going to shower.” He stole a quick kiss before standing, but he wasn’t quick enough. She held his hand and sat up on her knees in bed. Naked and luscious in front of him. Their bedroom smelled like sex, and he was so hard he was about to go crossed eyed. He had to get out of there before he broke his promise to himself.

“Let me touch you.” Her eyes pleaded with him. He wanted her to. He wanted her to touch him, but he needed her to know this had been about her.

“Not tonight, Shorty.” he gently answered, not missing the cute way she frowned at him.

“Why not?”

“This was about you. About you knowing you can count on me to always give you what you need without taking from you,” he clarified. Her eyes softened.

“I know that…”

“But I needed to remind us both of it,” he shared, and her eyes flickered with understanding. She might not like it or agree with him, but she understood. He thought she would have backed away from him; instead, she scooted closer to him still on her knees on the mattress of their bed; her hands left his wrist and found his chest.

“You don’t need to punish yourself for us getting…”

“Lost?”

“We weren’t lost… we were a little… disconnected. And I already told you, it was both of us. This wasn’t only on your shoulders…”

“Not tonight. Tonight, I made you come hard, right?” he asked her, and even after so many years together, he liked how the apples of her cheeks pinkened as she gave him a nod. “You are going to relax in bed. I’m going to shower, come back here, and hold you tightly all fucking night long,” he stated, and she shivered. She knew exactly what he was leaving out. Her eyes flickered, and he knew what she would ask next.

“Can I watch?” He chuckled. Things might have changed, but at least he still knew his girl. Owen shook his head, giving her a soft kiss.

“Rest. I might need to remind us again later,” he whispered, holding on to any and all self-control he could.

“Okay,” she whispered, kissing him back, her chest pressed tightly against his. His hand squeezed her perfect ass.

“I’ll be fast.” He winked. She sat back on her knees, naked and sure of herself. He bit the inside of his lip reminding himself this had to be about her. She giggled as if reading his mind, and he chuckled shaking his head, soaking in the hell of a view she gave him before walking away from her and straight into an ice-cold shower.