Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
Meadow
My lips lift into a slow, satisfied smile, savoring the warmth without opening my eyes.
I’m so used to waking up alone. But right now, I feel safe— anchored —held in place by the solid weight of Owen’s arms draped around my waist.
I don’t dare move a muscle, afraid that even the smallest shift might break the moment.
I want this to last forever.
The couch cushions dip beneath us, the throw blanket half-wrapped around our legs. My cheek rests against Owen’s chest as I listen to the steady rhythm of his breathing beneath my ear.
Before he wakes up, I keep my eyes closed and let myself relive a highlight reel of last night.
When Owen pulled me onto his lap, my body thrummed with adrenaline as I eased back into him.
And his mouth? Oh my God —who knew Owen Brooks was a pro at dirty talk? I guess I should have known, the man is annoyingly good at everything he does.
Speaking of being good at everything… holy shit , he knows how to use his fingers. I can still feel him deep inside of me, hitting every sensitive spot like he knows my body better than I know myself.
Honestly, the thought of getting fingered was never really something that turned me on before last night. I would rather be eaten out or just skip straight to sex.
But that —what Owen did to me—I would do anything to experience that high again. His touch still lingers deep in my core, branded beneath my flesh.
With every minute that passes on this trip, I’m surprising myself more and more. I wasn’t lying when I told Owen I don’t usually take control during intimacy.
I shocked the hell out of myself when I got down on my knees and started tugging his pants down. It was like my brain shut off and my heart took over, consequences be damned, as I succumbed to the moment.
And God, it was so worth it.
The way Owen looked at me when I wrapped my lips around his velvety cock made me feel like a queen.
He was so enamored by me, completely enchanted, and at the mercy of my lips and hands. I was in full control of his body and soul, unraveling him with just a touch.
I’ve never felt more wanted or more powerful.
It was like something I’ve read in one of my romance novels.
And the size of his cock… That is definitely something I’ve only ever experienced in my spicy books.
I’ve been with bigger men before, but Owen puts all of them to shame. I’m actually a little concerned about how he’s going to fit inside me without breaking me in half.
I’m obviously not too worried, because my thighs clench together at just the thought of Owen sinking inside me.
I feel the urge to throw myself into an ice bath, just to see if I wake up and realize that this is all a dream. I’m still not convinced that any of this is real.
Afterward, we stayed cuddled up on the couch, making out while the rest of the world slept. Instead of heated and ravenous, the movement of our lips was tender and all-consuming, neither of us wanting to rush a moment that was years in the making.
At some point in the early hours of the morning, the glow from the TV faded into the background, and our kisses slowed until sleep finally pulled us under.
Now, our limbs are tangled together as Owen holds me tightly against him.
I could stay like this forever.
When I finally peel my eyes open, I squint against the early morning sun pouring through the windows, casting gold and orange hues across the living room.
Owen’s arm instinctively tightens around me when I shift to look at him.
Mine.
For the rest of this week, you’re mine.
The words he muttered after he’d lifted me back onto his lap coil around my heart.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and tilt my head up to study him.
He looks so young like this, his lips slightly parted as the sun makes his tousled hair look even more golden. He lost his shirt sometime during the night, leaving his bare chest glistening like a Greek god beneath the morning light.
Staring at Owen is like gazing directly into the sun. He’s so beautiful that he’s almost painful to look at. Too perfect to be real, yet I’m here in his arms, watching his chest rise and fall with easy breaths.
Nothing about last night feels temporary. Nothing about this week feels like an accident.
Now that I know Owen has been feeling the same way about me, this all feels inevitable.
And even though I was the one who suggested we not worry about our friendship for the rest of the week, I can't help but imagine returning to our stale office, pretending I haven’t memorized the taste of his lips or know the sounds he makes when he comes.
Lost in my own head, I almost miss the moment Owen's lashes begin to flutter against his cheeks. His sea-green eyes open gradually, adjusting to the bright room.
He blinks once, twice, clearing away the sleep before his gaze settles on me. The corners of his mouth lift in a slow, elated smile when he makes eye contact with me.
“Morning,” he murmurs, voice husky.
“Morning,” I smile back.
My spine tingles with awareness as his fingers drift along my waist, pressing light circles into my skin.
I trace my fingertip along the edge of his collarbone and chew on my bottom lip, contemplating my next sentence.
“Crazy movie last night, huh?” I ask, a hint of humor in my tone.
His chest shakes with a light scoff. "Pretty sure neither of us knew what the hell was going on."
"Oh, right," I drawl out sarcastically. "You had other entertainment in mind."
He arches an eyebrow and flashes me a wicked grin that causes my stomach to flip.
"Don't act like you didn't prefer my idea of entertainment." His voice is filled with gravel, as if the memory is affecting him just as much as me.
"Oh, I thoroughly enjoyed it,” I scoff. My fingers trail down his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken beneath my touch. “I liked it more than I should probably admit.”
"Good,” he chuckles, his hand skimming up my back with exquisite slowness. “I’d be offended if you didn’t enjoy it as much as I did.”
My breath catches when his long fingers splay across my ribs, stopping just beneath my breast.
His expression shifts as his playfulness morphs into something more vulnerable.
He leans in closer until I can feel his breath feather against my lips.
"Seriously, though," he whispers, eyes searching mine. "Are you okay? I know last night was a lot—“
"It was incredible,” I cut him off, not giving either of us a second to doubt it. "I'm more than okay, Owen. I’m—“
Before I can get another word out, Owen presses his lips to mine in a kiss so achingly tender it makes my eyes sting. When he pulls back, the tension in his shoulders eases as he gazes back at me with a hopeful expression.
I briefly close my eyes when his lips brush my temple, lingering there.
“Thank God,” he exhales, “because I can't pretend last night didn't happen. I don't want to go back, Meadow."
My pulse is a frantic drum beneath my skin.
"Back where?" I ask.
His fingers find a lock of my hair, tucking it gently behind my ear. The simple intimacy of it nearly undoes me.
"Back to pretending I don't want you. Acting like I don't need you more than just a friend."
My heart stops for a beat, hope and terror warring inside me. I push myself up on one elbow, my eyes darting between his.
I swallow down my nerves before voicing my biggest fear.
"What if…” I start. “What if we forget how to act normally around each other? What if we can't go back to being us when we get home?”
An easy smile lifts one corner of his mouth as he catches my wandering hand and presses a kiss to my palm.
"Then good,” he rasps. “I don't want normal, not with you. Not anymore."
His words melt through me like honey, sweet and promising. I lean down, my mouth a breath away from his, when a sharp knock rattles from the door.
We both turn our heads toward the sound and freeze.
Another knock.
"Housekeeping!"
"Great timing," Owen groans before stealing another quick kiss.
"I've got it," I whisper against his lips.
Owen shifts, running his fingers through his messy hair as I unwrap myself from the blanket, stand from the couch, and pad toward the door on bare feet.
The housekeeper offers a polite smile, extending fresh towels with the quiet assurance she'll return later for a full cleaning. I murmur appreciation as the door gently shuts behind her.
When I turn back around, my eyes go wide as my mouth hangs open.
Owen is standing against the wall with his arms crossed over his bare chest, devouring me with his gaze as if I'm his fantasy come to life.
Sunlight streams through the windows, outlining his silhouette and illuminating every sculpted plane of his body.
We stand there for what feels like minutes, Owen never moving a muscle as he takes me in. My bones feel like putty beneath his gaze.
"What?" I finally ask, my voice barely audible as his gaze roams down my body, silently undressing me.
"Nothing,” he shakes his head, flashing me a sexy smirk. "Just trying to get used to this."
I chew on my bottom lip, feeling like a spotlight is shining down on me as he devours me with his eyes.
"This?"
He glides toward me with predatory grace, each step deliberate. When his palms find my hips, and he pulls me into him, I inhale deeply, savoring the familiar trace of cinnamon and leather.
"This," he repeats, his strong hands sliding beneath my thighs as he lifts me effortlessly.
My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as his thick erection presses against my core, making my thighs tremble with need around him.
"Waking up to you," he continues, his lips brushing mine with each word.
"Mmmm," I hum instinctively, my fingers threading through his hair. “Tell me more,” I grin.
He smiles against my lips.
"Tonight," he promises between deep, sensual kisses, "I'm locking us in my bedroom. I want you all to myself,” he growls before sucking on my bottom lip.
Fuck.
My pussy clenches when I feel his hard cock twitch against my center.
“But it's too nice out to stay inside today,” he adds.