Chapter 7
Owen
My feet hurt.
Tiny prickles of pain pierce through my haze, dragging me into full awareness. The sound of chattering teeth are what fully pull me from my slumber.
I’m in the backyard again.
In my boxers and nothing else.
And I’m not alone.
“Owen, please come back inside,” a panicked voice says over the hiss of the frigid wind. “You’re scaring me.”
Her words fully snap me out of it. Standing in nothing but her pajamas is Mei.
Sweet, worried Mei. My brain goes from being confused straight to fixer mode.
She lets out a squeak of surprise when I scoop her into my arms bridal style.
I trudge through the snow with my ass on fire and nearly slip on the icy porch steps on my ascent.
Mei clings to me as if I might drop her.
Not going to happen.
As soon as we’re inside, I set her to her feet and then lock up the house. The alarm makes its familiar beeping sound as it engages again. My feet really hurt and I wonder how long I’d been standing out there.
“I’ll get a fire going,” I rasp out as I hobble toward the living room.
“Are you awake awake?”
The concern in her voice for me makes me want to hug her. So, I do. I tug the slight girl to me and crush her in my hold.
“I’m sorry for scaring you,” I murmur against her honey-scented hair. “I just want to get the both of us warmed up.”
She nods and then I release her, hating how hard she shivers.
While I start the fire, I note that she disappears.
I can hear her rummaging around in the kitchen and then the microwave beeps.
As I lay out a blanket to sit on in front of the fireplace, Mei emerges from the kitchen with two mugs in hand.
“Carol sent me with some tea. She says it’ll help you sleep.”
I’m skeptical, but I accept the drink she’s made for me. We sit close on the floor, our legs stretched out and feet pointed toward the fire. The fiery warmth makes my toes sting as the feeling returns to them.
“This is nice,” I murmur after a sip of the tea. “I like it.”
I’m not sure if I’m happy with how she acquired it, though. As if reading my mind, Mei speaks up.
“I wasn’t talking bad about you or anything. Just casually asked Penny’s sitter if she had anything to help with sleep. Carol drinks it and says it helps with her aches and pains too.”
“That was nice of you to get it to try,” I say and gently lean into her. “I feel bad, though.”
She snorts out a soft laugh. “For something you can’t control and for someone caring enough to want to help you?”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I grumble playfully. “Thank you.”
We’re quiet for a few moments. It’s not an uncomfortable silence at all. If anything, Mei relaxes me. Or it could be the tea. Even before the tea, though, I felt as if I could let my guard down with her.
Is it because she’s so young?
She seems as harmless as one of my kids.
No, it’s her.
There’s just something about her that soothes me.
After years of stress and heartache that’s only compounded since the divorce, it’s nice to feel calm. I don’t feel judged for my sleepwalking. Mei is worried and actually cares about my wellbeing.
I finish my tea and notice my eyelids feeling heavier which is a good sign. I’m not eager to go back to bed, however. What if I sleepwalk again?
“You know how you said you’d give me a hug if I felt like I needed one?” Mei asks, voice so soft I almost don’t hear over the crackling fire.
“Mmhmm.”
“Will you hold me? I’m cold and…” She trails off. “When you carried me in earlier, it was nice.”
“Come here.”
I pull her over my thigh and then settle her between my legs.
When my arms wrap around her middle, she melts against me with her back warming my chest. She’s such a small young woman, but I like how it feels like she needs me to protect her.
Despite her size, there’s a strength that always buzzes through her.
It radiates through our physical connection.
“Owen,” Mei murmurs. “What is this?”
I stiffen at her words. “A hug?”
We both know it’s more than a hug. From the second I laid eyes on her, I’ve been caught in her orbit, pulled in by a gravitational force I am powerless against. It’s wrong to feel so connected to her, especially since I’m in the middle of a marriage of convenience with her mother while battling my ex-wife.
I’ve got women problems for days. And what do I do?
This.
I do this.
Hold this eighteen-year-old, vulnerable but strong girl, in my arms because no one else will. And, because I really, really want to.
“You can skirt around it all you want,” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. “But we both know something is brewing here.”
I could take the coward’s way out and deny it. However, if Mei can be brave enough to voice it, then so can I.
“I feel it too,” I whisper, breath tickling over the side of her head and making her shiver. “It scares the shit out of me. The timing is impeccable.”
We both laugh.
“What do we do about it?” she asks when it grows quiet again.
“I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it.”
She pulls away from me and turns to look into my eyes over her shoulder. “Why not?”
It’s hard to come up with reasons when she’s giving me a sultry look and her plump lips are pulled into a kissable pout.
Houses. Kids. Ex-wife. Too much at stake. That’s the ugly truth.
“Believe me,” I rumble, stroking her cheek. “I want to.”
Her dark eyes glimmer with heat and then she twists around until she’s on her knees, facing me. I suck in a sharp breath as her palms settle on my bare shoulders. I’m suddenly all too aware of my erection straining in my boxers.
She dips her head down and then her sweet lips are on mine. So soft and curious. I let her have her gentle kisses, fully intending on making this stop before it progresses, but then she bites me.
Our eyes meet as my cock jolts. A saucy grin tugs at her lips.
Then, because I’m a hot-blooded animal I guess, I grip her ass over her pajama pants, pulling her closer to me.
This time when our mouths meet, I don’t let her kiss me.
I’m the one who leads this dance, parting her lips with mine and swiping my tongue against hers.
Her moan is damn near my undoing. I urge her to straddle my lap and she does. The heat from her pussy burns through the material of our clothes, teasing my dick of what’s to come.
Is it?
It can’t.
We cannot do this.
And yet I find myself squeezing her ass cheeks hard, making her move over my aching cock as we kiss like there’s no tomorrow.
The overwhelming need to touch her everywhere is what has me tugging at her sleep shirt.
She lifts her hands up in the air, allowing me to remove it completely.
I grip her shoulders and push her back so I can look at her tits.
Holy fuck.
They’re so damn small. Just a little mound for each breast with peaked, dark pink matching nipples. All I’ve ever known are big breasts or Leah’s fake ones.
“What?” she asks, breathless. “What’s wrong?”
I tentatively run my thumbs over her pert breasts, teasing her nipples. “Nothing. I’ve never seen something so beautiful is all.”
Then, because I need to taste them, I slide my hands to her narrow waist and lift her so that her nipple is near my mouth. She hisses the second my tongue flicks out and licks her sensitive nub.
“These are perfect,” I rumble. “So fucking perfect.”
Her fingers thread into my hair and she tugs as I suck her entire breast into my mouth. A hunger burns deep in my gut—to devour every part of her. My mouth waters as I wonder what she tastes like between her thighs.
This is bad.
Like fuck it is.
It’s the best thing I’ve ever done in all my life.
My mind argues but my body and heart are distracted by this sweet thing. I run my tongue between her breasts up to her neck and then suck on the skin there too. She moans, her entire body trembling, as I mark her pretty neck.
I’m going to fuck her, aren’t I?
The realization that I’ve already deluded myself into thinking this is a good idea should make me pause. However, I do the exact opposite, and I slam my foot on the gas, eager to take her to another destination. Perhaps my bed?
She grinds her pussy over my cock in such a needy way I’m already aching to come. I’ll feel like an idiot if I come in my boxers. I’d rather come inside of her.
Now that thought has me moaning.
I bet she’s so fucking wet.
“Owen,” she whines. “I need…”
“I know, angel, me too.”
More, more, more.
I grunt when she tugs at the waistband of my boxers, eager to let her have what she wants.
And then I hear it.
The sound of the big garage door opening.
It’s like we’ve been doused with ice water.
Mei scrambles off me, nearly tumbling backward into the fire. I snag her arm, steadying her. Her eyes are wide and wild.
“I’ll handle it. Go to bed,” I murmur, stealing a quick kiss on her swollen lips. “Goodnight.”
She flashes me a quick smile, snags her sleep shirt off the floor, and disappears right as the door to the house from the garage opens. I’m expecting to see Jin, but instead, my oldest son stumbles in.
“Hey, Dad,” Rhett says roughly. “Why are you in your underwear by the fire?”
Before I can come up with a reasonable excuse, he staggers over to me and plops down on the blanket beside me. He reeks of alcohol.
“Where have you been? And please tell me you didn’t drive.”
He playfully punches my arm but he’s athletic and it kind of fucking hurts. I grunt but wait with an arched eyebrow for my answer.
“Dude,” he slurs. “I got a ride home. All good.”
“Glad to hear that. Have you been making good decisions?”
It feels hypocritical to even ask him such a thing. I’m the worst decision maker in this house presently.
“I dunno.” He swipes his hand down over his face and sighs. “Sometimes I fuck up, Dad.”
This statement makes my gut clench. At least my boner has subsided now that I don’t have my stepdaughter rubbing her pussy all over it.
“How?”
“Dunno.” He shrugs. “I just make stupid mistakes when it comes to women.”
So, it’s a Monahan problem I’ve passed on to my son. Fucking great.
“Preaching to the choir, Rhett. Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.” He turns his half-lidded eyes on me and grins. “Were you and the wifey having sexy times? Did I interrupt?”
It’s obvious I wasn’t here alone since there are two mugs, but I was hoping he’d be drunk enough not to notice.
“Bit more complicated than that. We can grab lunch or something tomorrow and talk. When you’re not about to pass out.”
He clumsily fist bumps me like that’s a great idea and I’m thankful. I don’t want to have this conversation with my drunk son. However, I do want to confide in him. Maybe hearing my stupid shit will help him feel better about his own.
“Rhett,” I call out when he’s almost to the steps.
“Mmm?”
“I love you, kiddo.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
As my mind drifts back to Mei, I can’t help but be saddened. Her mother doesn’t give her the affection and attention I give my children.
I would go hug her again if I trusted myself not to take off the rest of her clothes.
And I do not trust myself.