Chapter 13 #2
This new, reckless version of me—the one I barely recognize—steps forward before my brain can stop her.
“Then do it,” I challenge.
His body freezes as he pulls back and arches a brow in question—his final way of asking for approval.
“Do it, Owen.”
I don’t care how desperate I sound.
I am fucking desperate.
And who knows if I’ll ever feel this bold around him again?
I need this. I need his lips on mine more than I’ve ever needed anything. I’m dying a slow death here.
Owen’s shoulders loosen, the tension draining away as if he’s been waiting all his life for this moment. His eyes darken as one of his hands slides into my hair, the other curling around the back of my neck.
“Jesus, Meadow,” he exhales, jaw flexing. “Fucking finally. Come here.”
The noise of the club falls away as he pulls me to him and slams his lips to mine.
There’s no gentle build-up. No sweet, shy first kiss.
It’s raw and hungry, our lips becoming one as Owen claims my mouth.
He groans when my hand sinks into his hair, my fingers threading through his golden locks as if he might disappear. God, I can’t get enough of that low, guttural sound coming from his mouth. I want to forever be the reason he makes it—again and again and again.
I literally melt into him as the kiss deepens, my weight resting against his muscular chest. When his hot tongue brushes against mine, it sends my heart into a frenzy.
He tastes like a mixture of rum, salt, and mint—sweeter than the day we’ve shared wrapped up into one dizzying breath. Every lick and nibble goes straight to my head, intoxicating me more than any drink ever could.
There simply aren't words to describe the way he’s kissing me.
It’s messy and desperate, our teeth bumping as he devours me, barely giving either of us a second for air. He kisses me like he’s been holding himself back for years—like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted.
One kiss is all it took, and I’m done for.
I’m never coming back from this.
There’s just no way it could ever be better than this.
I can’t help but whimper against his mouth when he bites down on my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth. Heat simmers in my lower belly as wetness pools between my thighs.
I’m so lost in his lips that I don’t even realize he’s moving us off the dance floor until my back hits the wall with a soft thud. He plants one hand beside my head, pinning me to the wall while the other dives into my hair, tugging me impossibly closer.
It’s probably not healthy how much I’m loving the way he’s caging me in, dominating me with every touch and kiss. There will never be anything sexier than his primal need for me in this moment.
“Fuck, Meadow,” he groans between kisses, his voice low and completely undone. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
Oh my God.
“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes against my mouth. “I can’t get enough. This will never be enough.”
How long has he wanted to do this?
Wait.
Has he been feeling the same way all this time?
There’s absolutely no fucking way.
He’s just tipsy and caught up in the moment. It’s just the alcohol talking.
My hands fly to his chest as he steps closer, crowding into me until his hips are molded to mine. I fist his shirt, white-knuckling the fabric in my grip as I feel his hard cock twitch against my lower belly. My pussy quivers as my sensitive nipples brush against his chest through my silky dress.
Every nerve in my body is erupting for him, shooting off fireworks as we writhe against each other.
The fact that Owen wants me like this—that he’s this turned on by me—makes my head spin. This moment will be burned into my memory until my last breath.
My eyes roll back when his mouth leaves mine and drops to my neck.
Fuck.
“Owen—” I exhale, leaning the back of my head against the wall.
His lips suck feverishly at my skin, then trail slow, hungry kisses up the column of my throat like he’s drawing a map back to my lips.
“ Owen ,” I gasp when he tugs my earlobe gently between his teeth.
“ Fuck , keep saying my name like that,” he hums before diving back in with his lips.
He can’t get enough. He’s desperate to get his mouth on every inch of me.
And God help me, I fucking love it.
Before I can blink, he’s back on my mouth, kissing me like I’m his own personal oxygen.
Does he always kiss like this? Or is it just like this with me? Because I can say with full certainty that I have never, ever , been kissed like this.
When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathless.
He cups my face in his hands like I’m precious and fragile, his thumbs brushing my cheeks as his eyes search mine.
He looks wrecked in the best way possible.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Meadow,” he rasps. “God… I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You have no idea how goddamn perfect you are.”
My chest physically aches with his confession because he’s right. I’ve always struggled with self-confidence, but right now, he’s making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Owen…” I whisper, reaching up to touch his stubbled jaw.
He cuts me off with another searing kiss. Harder this time. Needier.
We rock against each other, pinned between the wall and the blur of bodies around us, hidden in the mayhem of the club. Our heads tilt, teeth bump, tongues tangle as music and lust flood our veins.
My senses are so alive that it almost feels uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. I just feel… too hot. My clothes feel like too much. The club feels overwhelming. All I want to is to be stripped down and alone. Naked and bare, nothing but Owen’s strong body moving against mine.
“Owen,” I moan softly, clutching him closer. “I want you. Let’s get out of here. Take me back to the room.”
More.
I need more.
He kisses me once more like he’s about to say yes, before suddenly pulling away. He runs a trembling hand through his hair and steps back, putting space between us.
My brows furrow with confusion as my heart drops to my stomach.
“Fuck…” he exhales. “You have no idea how fucking tempting that is, Meadow.”
“What?” I rush out. “What is it?”
“This can’t…” he shakes his head, jaw tight. “As badly as I want you, Meadow… I can’t let this go any further tonight.”
“What do you mean?” I reply weakly. “We’re just kissing.”
“And if I keep kissing you like this,” he says, clearly conflicted, “I won’t be able to stop.”
I won’t be able to stop.
A rush of heat zips down my spine at what he’s implying. I bite my lip, contemplating my response.
“What if… What if I don’t want you to stop?”
A hint of pain flashes across his face as he steps back into my space, his tone softer.
“Trust me,” he murmurs, sliding his hand up my cheek. “I don’t want to stop either. That’s the fucking problem.”
My chest constricts.
“If I ever get more than a kiss with you,” he continues, eyes locked on mine, “I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want either of us to blame the alcohol afterward. I want to be there. Fully present and clear-headed with you. You deserve that, Meadow.”
God.
How is that confession hotter than the kiss we just had? Another piece of me falls in love with Owen at the thought of him choosing me over a night of hot, drunken sex. He could have easily had my body, but instead, he chose me.
I nod slowly. “I understand.”
He lowers his head, pressing his forehead to mine.
I’m not ready for this night to end. I feel like I might die if I don’t feel his lips on mine one more time.
“Can we… Can you kiss me one more time?” My voice comes out small. “Then we’ll call it a night and forget about this. Just one more.”
A slow, wicked smile curves his lips. Devastatingly handsome.
“You’ve got two things wrong, Mrs. Brooks.”
My stomach flips as Owen dips his head, his lips feathering mine with each word.
“One,” he murmurs, “I plan on kissing you a hell of a lot more than one more time.”
“And two…” His thumb tilts my chin up. “I’m never forgetting this. Ever .”
My heart lurches out of my chest and falls at his feet. I’m his, completely and helplessly.
“Now come here.”
Owen pulls me back in and seals his lips to mine, savoring every second as he kisses me soft and slow this time.
We completely lose track of time, completely consumed by one another. It feels like he spends hours memorizing my lips, tongue, and taste. We don’t stop kissing until the bartender takes over the sound system, letting everyone know it's last call.
Everything about this kiss feels like a promise we can never go back on.
Tonight was the start of something that will change the two of us forever.