Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
EVEREST
Ivy’s curled up in bed, head resting on Owen’s shoulder. I’m pretty sure she fell asleep about fifteen minutes ago, but Owen hasn’t noticed and I don’t bother telling him. His voice is deep and rich as he continues to read from one of Ivy’s favorite books and I let his soothing baritone roll over me.
Sitting on the floor, back against the wall, my eyes drift shut as I listen to Owen. Today was a good day. A very good day. Even my little meltdown when I got home was good.
I know I overreacted. It was just so shocking seeing them upstairs in Eden and Jeremy’s room and my emotions got the better of me. Of course we have to clear out their things at some point. Of course we can’t seal off an entire floor of the house forever. I just wish Owen had told me he was going to do it beforehand. I want to be a part of the process. I want the chance to say goodbye to them one more time.
I open my eyes and take in the vision of Owen, the softness in his eyes, the delicate curve of his lips, the looseness in the way he holds himself. The scruff on his cheeks is too long and his clothes are more than a little wrinkled. It’s so different from his usual tightly wound and highly strung appearance. He looks relaxed and at ease. He looks happy.
For the first time in all the years I’ve known him, he finally looks happy.
I’m a little surprised at myself for asking him what he wanted to do about dinner. I should’ve just ordered something, to hell with him. But after that moment we had on the floor of Eden and Jeremy’s room, it kind of felt wrong. I want him to tell me about stuff, so maybe I should tell him about stuff too—even if it is whether we should order pizza for dinner.
Owen’s reading trails off as he peeks down at a sleeping Ivy. He glances at me and I smile.
“How long has she been asleep?” he asks quietly.
“A while.”
“And you just let me keep reading?”
I lift a shoulder and let it drop. “I was enjoying the story.”
He huffs, then gently eases Ivy down onto the bed. He pulls the covers tight around her, tucks Zuzi in next to her, and slides the book back into its spot on her bookshelf. I climb to my feet and click on the nightlight in the corner of the room. We slip out.
On the landing outside Ivy’s room, I stand at the top of the stairs, waiting for Owen to make the next move. Since we moved in, he’s been sleeping in what used to be the office across the hall from Ivy. It’s smaller than the guest bedroom I’ve been using in the basement, but he wanted to be closer to Ivy in case she needed someone in the middle of the night.
“So…” I say.
He clears his throat and stuffs his hands into his pockets. The action pulls the front of his slacks taut across the bulge of his dick. His chest rises and falls a little too fast for a resting heart rate, and his shoulders are an inch higher than they were when he was reading a moment ago.
He’s tense. Nervous. He’s fighting with himself, it’s written on his face, plain as day.
Maybe I should take it easy on him. Make the first move so he doesn’t have to step too far outside his comfort zone. I’m nice like that, considerate. But I’m also a tease and a troublemaker, and I kinda like watching Owen squirm.
“How about a drink?” Owen’s gaze is downcast as he asks the question.
I chuckle under my breath. Sure, if he needs the liquid courage, we can have a drink. Wordlessly, I turn and lead the way downstairs.
In the living room, there’s a mini-bar hidden in a cabinet. I open the door and reach for a random bottle. I’m more of a beer guy, but Jeremy was all about his liquors, so the cabinet is stocked.
“Not that one. The Lagavulin is better for a nightcap.”
I cock an eyebrow at Owen and he has the decency to blush.
“What? It’s true.”
“Okay, Mr. Bougie,” I say, rolling my eyes.
His brow furrows and the corners of his mouth turn down into a frown.
“Easy! I’m just kidding!” I grab his arm and give him a light shake.
His frown smooths out a fraction, but he still looks unhappy. I pull him toward me, looping my arms around his shoulders. He resists me for a moment before relaxing into me. His hands come to rest lightly on my hips.
“You know I like to tease,” I murmur.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” he grumbles.
“But where would be the fun in that?”
He harrumphs, but there’s a tiny smile on his lips. He looks so adorably grumpy, a little grumpy gremlin. I can’t resist. I lean in and give him a quick peck on the corner of his mouth. He takes in a sharp breath, then melts against me.
We stand there for a moment, foreheads touching, savoring each other. The weight of another person, the warmth of their body, the gentle movements of their breathing.
Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined standing here like this with Owen. We’ve always been so hostile toward each other. We could never be in the same room without an argument breaking out. But when I put aside my need to poke and prod at him, everything changed.
I never realized it before, but there’s something about being with Owen that feels effortless. I don’t have to crack jokes or be silly. I don’t have to goof off or be the life of the party. I don’t have a reputation to live up to. I can just be .
So maybe I’ve been the problem all along.
Slowly, I ease myself away from Owen and turn back to the mini-bar. I reach for the Lagavulin— because it’s better for a nightcap —and pour two glasses. When I hand one to Owen, he takes it and immediately throws the whole thing back before setting the glass down with a thud .
I stare at him in surprise. I don’t know much about scotch, but I’m pretty sure this stuff is pricy. Like, way too pricy to pour down your throat without tasting it.
Also, I never took Owen for a down-it-like-a-shot type person.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Owen asks, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.
I glance at his empty glass, then back at my full one. I guess there isn’t really anything to wait for. Or rather, I think we’ve waited long enough.
I toss back the scotch and it goes down nice and smooth, heating me from the inside out. The second my glass is on the counter, Owen grabs my face and yanks me in to slam his mouth across mine.
I stumble forward, catching myself with an arm around his waist. Owen isn’t messing around. He shoves his tongue between my lips like he’s trying to lick my tonsils and the invasion sends all the blood in my body rushing to my cock.
He pushes me against the wall and plasters himself against me. When the bulge of his erection meets mine, we both shudder and moan. I grab his hips, holding him still as I grind our cocks together. I slide my hands back to fill my palms with his rounded ass.
God, I want to get in there. I want to bury myself deep and touch Owen where no other man has ever touched him before. I want to watch him go wild with pleasure, drive him crazy with lust, and make him crave my cock. I want him with a primal need that I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Owen clamps his teeth on my bottom lip and tugs. The pain makes my cock throb and my balls ache. I whimper when he releases his bite and soothes my bruised lip with his tongue.
“I want you to fuck me,” Owen whispers and I shiver at the thought. “Hard and fast. Can you do that, Everest? Can you fuck me like you mean it?”
Pleasure ricochets through me at his words. My skin tingles and my stomach tightens. I nod, frantically, digging my fingers into his ass.
“Good.” Owen steps back and I whine in protest. But he takes my hand and marches toward the basement stairs.
I scramble to keep up, even as a little bubble of laughter rises in my chest. Even when it comes to sex, Owen is as no-nonsense as always. Cut the bullshit and get right to the point. We both know what we’re here to do, so why waste time.
He drops my hand when we get to my room and immediately starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Condoms. Lube.”
I have to drag my gaze away from the inches of skin he’s revealing as he pulls his shirt apart. Condoms. Lube. I have both. I have plenty of both. I find my stash and toss them onto the bed, then swing back to Owen.
He has his back to me as he shakes out his shirt and folds it. Wide shoulders and a tapered waist. The muscles on his back flex as he moves. I’ve never known Owen to work out, but he must find time for it because he’s a lot more ripped than he lets on.
He unbuckles his belt, then rolls it up into a coil before setting it next to his shirt. Then he unbuttons his slacks and pushes them down his legs. Plain black boxer briefs stretch over his bubble butt. His thighs are thick and his calves are shapely. When the guy finds time to do leg day, I have absolutely no freaking clue.
He turns toward me wearing only his underwear. There’s a smattering of dark hair across his chest and a tantalizing treasure trail down the center of his stomach. His dick is clearly outlined in the black cotton and a wet spot has formed at the tip.
He looks exactly the way I remember him from Vegas, right down to how he undresses—but better. The years have given him a little more bulk, making him a little more solid. He was a man before, but now he’s a man and my dick is here for it.
When I manage to lift my gaze to his face again, I find him giving me the same perusal. Except I’m still fully clothed in an old t-shirt and gray sweatpants.
“Take your shirt off,” Owen says in that tone of his that brokers no arguments.
My lips curl into a smirk at his bossiness. He just can’t help himself, can he?
I reach up and grab the back of my t-shirt, pulling it over my head and down my arms in some swift motion.
“And put that on.”
I follow his gaze to find one of my ball caps hanging on the wall. “This thing?” I point to it.
He nods. “Backward.”
Oookay. That’s weird, but maybe he’s got a hat fetish I don’t know about? I grab the cap and slide it on, adjusting it so the bill is angled just right down my neck.
Owen’s breath hitches and his gaze trails down my body, lingering on the dips and curves of my chest, my shoulders, my stomach. He takes two steps to close the distance between us, then traces the same path with his fingertips.
My nipples tighten as he grazes them with the lightest touch. I flex my abs when he flattens his hand over them. I forget to breathe when his hand travels lower and cups my cock and balls through my sweatpants.
“You’re annoyingly attractive,” he growls. “Why the hell are you so fucking hot?”
I can’t think when he’s massaging my junk in his hand and I can’t figure out if he’s trying to insult me or compliment me.
He drags his lips along my jaw and up to my ear. His stubble scrapes deliciously across my skin. He catches my earlobe between his teeth. My knees go weak and I grab ahold of him, clinging to him. My head drops back as Owen rakes his teeth down my neck. He latches onto my collarbone, then twirls his tongue in that dip at the base of my throat.
“Fuck, Owen.” I sound desperate. Because I am. Desperate for this man who is supposed to hate me and yet can’t keep his hands off me. Desperate to see him come apart, to see him give in to the pleasure I can give him.
Owen growls again and directs me toward the bed. When the backs of my legs hit the frame, he gives me a shove and I fall backward onto the mattress. He sets one knee on the bed beside me and reaches for the waistband of my sweats. He yanks them down, along with my underwear, leaving them hanging around my ankles.
Then he stands back and takes in the view. I tuck one arm behind my head and bring my other hand to my chest. Owen watches, lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded. His breaths are fast and shallow and his hands are curled into fists like he’s trying to stop himself from reaching for me.
I pinch a nipple, letting myself gasp out loud at the pleasurable pain. I work the one nipple between my fingers, and then the other one, until I’m practically vibrating with need. Slowly, I drag my hand down my body and Owen tracks its progress with laser focus.
I grip myself at the base and slap my cock against my stomach a few times. The sound is loud and wet from the pre-cum I’ve been leaking. The impact makes me throb harder and more pre-cum spills from my cock.
Owen grabs my wrist and shoves my hand out of the way, then leans down and licks up the puddle of pre-cum. I gasp at the feel of his tongue, wet and dexterous, drawing circles across my skin. He laps up every drop before taking the head of my cock into his mouth.
“Holy fuck.” His mouth is a furnace and he’s sucking like he wants to drink the pre-cum from my balls. My hips come off the bed, but Owen pushes me down with far more strength than I thought he had.
He works the tip of my cock with his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive head, wiggles against that spot on the underside, dips into the slit. It feels like every single nerve ending in my body is concentrated in just that bit he’s got between his lips and they’re all firing at the same time. It’s so good, it’s almost too much.
Owen gradually takes in more of my cock, sliding down my length an inch then pulling back. The slow descent is delightful and torturous at the same time. His mouth is so hot and he’s got the perfect amount of suction, and when my dick hits the back of his throat, he swallows around the head.
“Jesus Christ!” I don’t blink. I don’t want to miss a second of this blowjob. Owen’s got his nose flush against my pelvis and my entire cock is engulfed in his delicious mouth. He has my balls in the palm of his hand and the way he’s squeezing them gently, I swear to fucking god he’s trying to milk me.
My hand goes to his hair, fingers dragging through the thick locks. Owen groans and the vibrations travel right to that spot deep inside that makes me quiver and shake.
“Fuck, Owen.” I grip his hair and tug. He groans again and my balls draw up as I approach the brink. “I’m going to come!”
He pulls off and I let out a cry of distress. I was so close. I was almost there.
He lets my cock drop to my stomach, the head an angry red, the veins bulging along the shaft. I can’t move. If I do, I’m pretty sure I’ll explode all over myself.
Owen steps out of his boxer briefs, then folds them and sets them down with his other clothes. If I wasn’t fighting so hard to keep from coming, I might’ve tried to make fun of him. But all I can do is curl my fingers into the sheets under me and hold the fuck on.