Chapter Fifteen

OWEN and I stayed exactly as we were for almost five minutes. And I knew this because I counted each and every second while we waited a reasonable amount of time to make sure Mom had fallen back to sleep.

It was five minutes of the most exquisite hell I could imagine.

That effect Owen’s touch had on me on a normal day? Yeah, it was exponentially worse—or better, depending on one’s perspective—when it was a full-body connection, complete with intimate eye contact.

All my skin tingled and burned, like when I had a fever, but in a way that made me want to rub against Owen to increase the pressure. My heart beat at a faster rate. My breathing became erratic. And I yearned. I yearned for something I didn’t think I could verbalize. For something I’d never acknowledged in a real way before Owen.

“We should get up,” I said when I finally remembered how my vocal chords worked.

“Are we going to keep searching?”

And, man, that campfire-smoke-at-midnight voice of his was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard when it was husky and soft.

I shook my head. “Maybe tomorrow night. It’s too close to dawn, and I can’t assume my mom is completely sound asleep.”

Owen rolled off me, and I mourned the loss of his weight. He stood and offered me a hand up. I took it because, dark as the room was, I could see the way his emoji boxers tented, and it made my knees tremble. It was both sexy as fuck and intimidating as hell. That boner was for me. Me. I’d done that.

Owen hesitated at the door. “Well, I guess we should go back to sleep.”

I nodded, though neither of us took a step.

With a lingering look at my mouth, Owen said, “Good night.”

He took a single step past the threshold, and I grabbed his arm before he could turn to the living room and I could turn to my bedroom.

“Stay with me?”

The muscles of his forearm tightened.

“My bed is big enough for the both of us, and it’ll be way more comfortable than the couch.”

“Yusuf, I…. Your parents….”

“I’m pretty sure my mom already thinks you’re in there with me.”

He bit his lower lip, indecision visible on his face.

I took half a step back. I’d been pushing him, which hadn’t been my intention. Just because some part of me was desperately urging me to keep him close, to explore the exhilarating tension between us, it didn’t mean he was into it, or into me that way. Even the erection he was sporting could be as much to do with proximity to a warm body as with me specifically. “It’s okay if you don’t want—”

He stopped my words with a thumb across my lips. “It’s not that. I want to.”

“Then….”

“I need you to be clear about what you want, what you expect. I don’t want to presume anything, or assume, or pressure you in any way.”

I altered my grip so I could hold his hand instead of his arm. “Is it okay if I don’t know what I want? I know I want something, but—” I stopped. This was going to get weird if we tried to have this conversation in whispers in the hallway of my parents’ condo. “Look, can we go to my room and talk about this? Nothing more until we’ve made sure we’re on the same page.”

“Yeah, okay. That’d be good.”

I kept hold of his hand and dragged him to my room, where we could shut the door and ensure at least a little bit of privacy from parental nighttime wanderings. We took up what I was beginning to think of as our regular positions on my bed. Me at the head, him at the foot, sitting cross-legged facing each other.

“Did you want to talk about what you found in there?” Owen tilted his head in the general direction of my dad’s office.

“No. We’ll deal with it tomorrow. We should talk about the other thing before I remember that talking and confessions are not something I’m good at and I freak out. If I don’t do it now, I may not get the nerve to do it later.”

Owen leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“That’s the problem, though. I want to tell you stuff, but then I get all caught up in my head and start to think maybe silent contemplation is the better approach. Less embarrassing.”

“Well, if you’re worried I’m going to judge you or laugh at you, don’t. I want to know anything you want to tell me.”

Well, he asked for it. “I’m twenty-one years old, and I don’t know if I like guys, or if I just like you. I don’t know if I’m gay or bisexual, or what. I’ve never been with anyone before. Never wanted to be with anyone. I’ve never been on a date. Never kissed anyone until you. And now that my body doesn’t seem to be trying to tear itself apart from the inside out, I want things I’d never wanted before, and I don’t know what to do about it. I dream about you, about being with you, and I wake up, shaking, and hot, and, holy shit, I’m going to shut up now.” Because Owen was staring at me like I’d sucker punched him.

I crossed my arms protectively over my chest. “I’m sorry. I worried this would be—”

Owen lunged forward, capturing both my hands in his. It pulled my arms away from my chest but kept them crossed at the wrist. It was a little awkward, but I wasn’t going to pull away to make it more comfortable. It would mean losing Owen’s touch.

“There is nothing to worry about. I’m just trying to process everything.”

“Any particular part?” I tugged experimentally at his hold. Not that I wanted to get away, but to see if he’d let me. He didn’t. His fingers tightened, and something relaxed inside me.

“You’ve really never….”

I lifted my shoulders. “Honestly, I was so sick for so long, it wasn’t like I met anyone. I barely saw anyone my own age, and even if I had, it’s not like I’d have been able to date them. My parents kept me pretty sequestered at the advice of my doctor.”

“And since you’ve been at Cody College, you’ve met more people your age. And none of them… attracted you?”

“Well, David is gorgeous in a too-good-to-be-true way, but I wasn’t attracted to him. Mostly I wanted to claw his face off because you and he—” I shut up before I could finish that particular thought. Owen did not need to know about that.

Owen smirked.

“Jerk.” I shoved him a little. Not enough to disconnect our hands but enough to jostle him a bit. “In all seriousness, the suspense is killing me. What are you thinking?”

He sighed. “Yusuf, I think you’re hot. I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you. And that’s just your looks. After the first time we played chess, I wanted you even more. Because of who you are. The knowledge that you want me too, and that you’ve never been with anyone—and I don’t mean just physically—is a huge turn-on. But I’m worried you’re caught up in the newness of everything. I don’t want to take advantage of that, of you.”

This time I did push him away, breaking his grip. “Oh, screw you. I may be inexperienced, but it doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I may not know a lot about sex and relationships or whatever, but it doesn’t mean I don’t recognize and understand my own reactions. You don’t get to take that away from me. I don’t need anyone telling me what to do or how to feel.”

He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. But you need to know, if we start something and you decide it’s not worth it, that I’m not who you want, it’s going to kill me. Because you are who I want, and I don’t think I could handle being with you, then having you walk away.”

And if that didn’t turn me upside down and inside out.

It took me a solid twenty seconds to process it completely and figure out what I needed to say. Finally I said, “I can’t make any promises for the future, but I can tell you I like the way I feel around you. I like the way touching you, and you touching me, makes me feel. I want to feel more of it, to experience all these things I’ve never done before. I don’t want to use you, and I don’t think I am, but I don’t want to push you into something you’re not interested in.”

“So what you’re saying is I’m hesitating in order to protect you, you’re hesitating in order to protect me, and in the end, we both want the same thing.”

“Pretty much.”

He reached out, relinking our hands. “What do you want tonight?”

“Maybe start with kissing—I like the kissing—and play the rest by ear?”

“I like that.” He grinned wickedly, pulling me close. “I like that a lot.”

The warm puff of his breath before our lips met was as much a turn-on as the weight of him pressing into me earlier. A sign of connection, of intent, igniting something hotter, something darker, deep in my chest. And my gut. And, let’s face it, my groin. The careful way he fitted our mouths together brought my blood to a simmer. Then his control slipped, and his touch was less careful, more frantic, and the simmer turned into a full-on boil.

I groaned into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip, demanding more, even though I couldn’t exactly define what more would consist of. He came up to his knees, crowding closer to me, his hands digging into my lower back, dragging me closer. We were stopped by my position—sitting cross-legged kept my knees between us, and I wasn’t flexible enough to pretzel myself into a position that would bring our bodies against each other. I needed closeness more than I needed to breathe. It was uncoordinated and random, and at one point I fell forward, causing our teeth to bash together, but eventually we maneuvered ourselves around so we lay on our sides, face-to-face.

Now that our posture was conducive to comfortably making out, it became a thing of frantic touches and desperate embraces. I didn’t have time to worry that I didn’t know what I was doing or that my life was mired in secrets. All I knew was want and need and touch and feel. Like shifting into a big cat three weeks ago, I was caught in the moment. In the visceral.

Owen’s skin was soft and covered with muscle that was anything but. I pressed the tips of my fingers against the swell of his biceps. There was almost no give at all. I became obsessed with the dips and arcs of Owen’s body, and I was determined to discover each and every layer. For his part, Owen seemed content to let me play, arching his neck to give me access to more skin. I followed the curves of his arm, up over the shoulder, skimming his throat, and down along his chest.

His shirt was in the way, so I tugged and yanked until he was free from the soft cotton. Now all the skin and strength of his chest were at my disposal. I flexed my fingers into the solid slabs of Owen’s pectorals, digging in a bit with my nails. He arched, hissing in a breath, increasing the pressure. I did it again, a sharper scrape with my nails, and he groaned my name.

“I had no idea.” I lifted my hands, enthralled with the pale half-moon arcs my fingernails had left in his skin. I ducked close and licked the marks I’d left.

“For someone new to all of this,” Owen said, nearly panting for breath, “you seem to know what you’re doing.” He palmed the side of my face and urged it up until we were kissing again.

I loved this. The heat, the desperation, the connection. I had to touch everything, to see everything. A light dusting of blond hair trailed from his chest, down past his abs, until a thin line disappeared behind the waistband of his boxers. His nipples were tight little nubs I wanted to touch and tease and bite. I wanted to nibble kisses down his back. I wanted to wrap my hands around his dick and see if he felt different than I did down there.

“What can I do?” I asked, eyes raking over the exposed flesh and tented cotton boxers. I wanted to do this right, and if I was being honest, my brain was having trouble picking any one place to start.

Owen scraped his teeth along my jaw. “Seriously, Yusuf, if you ditch the shirt, I’m pretty sure you can do anything you want to me.”

I wasted no time in ditching the shirt. Once it was gone, I pushed Owen onto his back, straddling his thighs. I hooked my feet over his shins and manacled his wrists with my hands so I could push them over his head. He lay sprawled and vulnerable below me, but he didn’t seem to care about the submissive position. I knew he wasn’t submissive in general and adored him for letting me restrain him with my body this way, even though I had no idea why my instinct was driving me toward it.

I buried my face at his throat, rubbing my nose and cheeks along the underside of his jaw and down his neck. The scratch of his beard stubble triggered a more primal reaction. I found the narrow ridge of his collarbone and bit. Owen’s reaction was immediate; he arched into the bite, groaning. The motion had his lower body bowing up into mine. And holy shit, that meant he pressed into my erection, and I nearly came unglued.

Everything had been fine as long as I was focused on exploring him and seeing what kinds of reactions I could draw from him. But that one sensation was bigger, more powerful, than anything I’d yet experienced.

I lunged for his mouth, kissing and licking at his lips until they opened; then there was the slick glide of tongue on tongue. My body flared to life, want burning through me, stronger, more immediate than before. He met my passion, angling his jaw to deepen the contact, sucking on my tongue. It was sloppy and wet and completely addicting.

We broke away when oxygen became a necessity. While he gasped for breath, I clamped my mouth to his neck, sucking the delicate skin between my teeth, biting down until he hissed and bucked under me. He tasted of salt and sweat and pine trees at midnight, and it wasn’t enough to enjoy the flavor. I needed to mark him, to show everyone he was mine. I moved to the other side of his neck and repeated the sucking/biting thing that he’d enjoyed so much and that I seemed to need so desperately. He palmed the back of my head, pushing me closer, urging me on.

He dragged his hands down my back, raking his fingernails the whole way. I rocked into him, rutting against him, all animal instinct now. He grabbed my ass, urging me on. I wanted more skin, more contact, I grabbed his boxers and tore them off his body, the seams splitting.

“I don’t know whether to be scared or turned on,” Owen said.

His words, and the realization that I had actually ripped his underwear, something that required more strength than I thought I had, restored a bit of my control. I levered myself up so I could get a read on Owen’s emotions. His eyes were wide and glowing, pupils completely blown. Sexy as hell, but… “Don’t want you to be scared. Is this okay?”

Owen’s smile was blinding. “More than okay. Just seeing a side of you I hadn’t expected. A really, really hot side.” He grabbed my shoulders, pulling me back down to him. One of his legs wrapped around my waist, which pushed our cocks together. I hissed out a breath. The friction was amazing, but it wasn’t enough.

I leaned back, putting some space between us. Owen made a rough sound at the separation, which made me want to kiss him. It was an awkward business, kissing him while at the same time pushing my pajama pants down. After a brief struggle where they got tangled around my ankles, I finally kicked the thin flannel free.

We groaned in unison as I settled against him. He was hot and hard, and I wanted to sit back and see him, but moving away at this point would have been impossible.

Synapses firing, body running entirely on adrenaline and hormones, I rutted against him, chasing something just out of reach.

It was the most amazing thing I’d ever felt.

It wasn’t nearly enough.

“Help me. I want—” I didn’t have the words to fully express what I wanted.

Owen knew. He reached down and took both our dicks in his hand, rubbing our shafts together.

“Fuck yes. This. This.” I arched over him, thrusting into his grip, scraping my teeth over the taut skin of his shoulder. I covered his hand with mine so we were both pumping and caressing.

He rolled his hips in time to mine, and together we created a rhythm that was going to destroy me.

It was heat and friction and a pleasure so intense that when it overwhelmed me, my vision clouded, first flashing white, then fading to green. I growled, biting Owen, fangs piercing the skin and embedding in the muscle where neck met shoulder. Owen stiffened below me; then the wet heat of his release joined mine, coating our hands.

“Holy fucking shit,” Owen gasped a while later.

By slow degrees my mind came back online. I’d fallen on top of Owen, covering him from head to toe thanks to the extra inches I had on him. I needed to move before he suffocated. I opened my mouth to say something, but the iron tang of blood on my tongue had terror and nausea roiling through me.

Horrified, I reared back and stared at the puncture wounds in Owen’s skin. I pushed away, crashing to the floor. “Oh no!”

I wiped my wrist across my mouth, shame overwhelming me at the red stain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why—” I jumped up, eyes frantically searching my room. “First aid kit. We’ll clean it and bandage it. Unless—do you need stitches?”

Owen sat up, looking concerned but not angry. He probed the wound but didn’t seem too upset. “Relax, Yusuf. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine! I bit you. You’re bleeding. I think there’s a first aid box in the bathroom. Just let me—”

He slid off the bed, crouching next to me a second later. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the pierced flesh. I’d done that. I’d hurt him. With my fucking teeth. Pressure built behind my eyes, and I had to blink away the sting before I broke down. Owen cupped my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze instead of focusing on his injury. “I’m okay. We’ll clean it up and everything will be fine.”

I swallowed. “But—”

“It happens,” he said. “We’ve got an animal inside us. And as human as we are, sometimes the animal comes out.”

“I lost control.” It was a hoarse whisper, full of regret and fear.

“Yeah, but to be fair, things were pretty intense.” Owen stroked my hair away from my face, his expression gentle and understanding.

My heart started to slow to a more regular rhythm. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t—”

I covered his lips with my finger. “I don’t want to hurt you, not like that, not when I’m not in control. When we get back to Cody, we’ll need to track down Buddy. That way, when we do this again, if—when—I bite you again, it’s going to be because you and I both like it, and there won’t be broken skin.”

He pressed his forehead against mine. “Good. That’s… good. Because the biting? I want that. I think I’ve discovered a kink. But, yeah, maybe no blood.”