Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Daisy
“... I
believe I have a prize to redeem.”
One second, his dimples are sending my lady bits into a frenzy, and the next I’m scooped up in his arms. The naughty grin on his face as we ascend the stairs sets me on fire.
Owen’s smile is as always dazzling. It’s the mirth in his eyes, the charm of his dimples, his gleaming white teeth, and his lips.
.. his lips are perfectly pink. His bottom lip is slightly fuller than the top.
My tongue darts out to lick my own as I imagine tugging his bottom lip between my teeth as he hovers above me.
I can only hope he’ll take pity on his patient and finally touch me tonight.
“What are you smiling at?” he questions, his own smile growing brighter.
“Just looking forward to my prize.”
We’ve reached the bedroom, and he settles me on the bed, propping my leg up once again. “I hope I don’t disappoint?” He flicks my nose and walks away.
He turns on the Bluetooth speaker on top of his bedside table as he leaves the room, turning the light off, leaving me alone in the dark.
“Hey!” I yell, but I’m drowned out by an unfamiliar pulsating beat that blasts through the speaker when the lamp next to the bedroom door flashes to life.
Owen reenters the room, exaggerating his movements as he glides one hand along his dresser. He opens a drawer and shuffles around. Just as the singer mentions his sock drawer, a pair of Owen’s balled-up socks hits me in the face.
“What is going on?” I laugh, batting it away.
Owen doesn’t answer because he is in full performance mode.
He shakes his ass and lip-syncs to an addictive, hilarious song about a man’s perfume.
Stomping back and forth in front of the bed, he takes every beat seriously as though he wrote and recorded the track himself.
I whoop it up, bouncing along, encouraging him.
As silly as he is, my panties dampen as I watch him work.
He is the silliest, sweetest, sexiest man I have ever encountered.
He twerks.
He thrusts.
He pouts.
Just when I think his performance couldn't get better, he rounds the bed where he slowly but surely swirls his hips and rips his T-shirt over his head. I shout a ‘hell, yes!' in encouragement as he tosses the shirt at me before he crawls across the bed.
Holy hotness.
I may have been under the man a time or two, but this Magic Mike show is new. He’ll be getting a five-star Yelp review for sure!
He lays his head on my lap just as, much to my dismay, the song ends. I wait a beat to see if I’m going to be graced with another song. Sadly, the room remains quiet, but the weight of his head sends butterflies fluttering in my belly in anticipation of what comes next.
When he gives a mock bow from his place in my lap, signaling the end of his performance, I show my appreciation with an enthusiastic clap. “Encore!”
He places one of my hands on his bare chest, resting it over his heart. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show. There are times I say, fuck it, go be a stripper. But that’s too much waxing for one man.”
“Too much is what you are.”
I drag the fingers of my free hand through his hair as we sit in contentment. It’s rare we get these small, tender moments together. Not worrying we might get caught or knowing we have a limited amount of time. It’s perfect.
“I would have told the girls years ago, had I known I’d get this kind of reward,” I kid, as my fingers continue to comb through his hair.
He lifts my hand from his chest and kisses my palm before sliding off the bed. He slips his shirt back on before making his way to my side. The somber smile he wears as he sits next to me says he wishes I wasn’t so flippant about our relationship. That I had wanted to tell the girls years ago.
Leave it to me to ruin the moment.
I feel like I’ve failed him, because he means much more to me than I’ve ever let him know.
Determined to show him without words, I take his hand in mine to tug him close enough to press my lips to his.
Thankfully, he kisses me back, but as soon as his free hand cups my face, he pulls back, places a kiss on my forehead, and stands.
“Get ready for bed. I’m gonna close up and meet you in bed for the second part of your prize.”
Yes!
“You’re sounding a little bossy, Officer Swift.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Clover.” He releases my hand. “I’ll be back.”
And with that, he leaves me breathless for more of him.
I waste no time rushing to the bathroom to change my clothes, wash my face, and brush my teeth. Thinking I’ll beat him to the bed, I’m surprised to find him all tucked in with a book in his hand and his sexy black glasses perched on his face.
“Nice glasses,” I say, trying not to show how bummed I am that he’s ready to read and not screw.
“I know how much you like them.”
“Good grief, you compliment a guy once and he never lets you forget it,” I groan as I situate myself on the bed, propping my leg up.
“I believe your exact words were, ‘Please, Owen. Fuck me with your glasses on’ if I’m not mistaken.”
He’s got me there. We were in Hawaii, and I woke from a nap to find him in bed next to me scrolling on his phone wearing his glasses. When he caught me watching him, he started to take them off, and yes, I might have pleaded for him to fuck me with them on.
“You're paraphrasing, but enough about that. What do I get for story-time tonight? Are you a romance fan now?”
“I’ve always been a fan of romance, Daisy. You’d know that if you ever got out of your own way.”
He’s right. But I refuse to admit it.
“You comfortable? Need anything?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
“Okay, sit back. Relax. We’re gonna take a trip back in time.”
“So, historical romance?”
He opens a blue journal with yellowing pages and clears his throat.
“Well, you did it this time, didn’t you? There are some lines you never cross. But you were only thinking about yourself. More precisely, your dick. I know you didn’t mean for it to happen. It wasn’t planned. But, Jesus man, your best friend's sister? What were you thinking?”
Holy shit. This is his journal entry from the first time we hooked up.
“Owen, you don’t have to do this.”
Ignoring me, he carries on. “I know what you were thinking. She’s beautiful. Always has been. But she’s also Cal’s sister. He will fillet you if he finds out, and you know it. So, why? Why risk it?
“The truth is, you’ve looked at her differently since you walked in on that piece of shit music producer forcing himself on her the day before her nineteenth birthday.
You’ve been overprotective of her ever since.
It kills you that she’s on her own at school.
So anytime she’s in the vicinity, your eyes are on her, which makes it impossible to deny that with every year she looks less like your sister and more like.
.. well, that’s a good question, isn’t it?
She’s more than a one-night stand, but you only do one-night stands. So, what gives?”
Stuck on my back with my foot propped up, I don’t dare speak.
Truthfully, I’m barely taking in oxygen, afraid to make any noise or sudden movement.
I stare at the ceiling; the sound of his confessions exciting yet terrifying.
And why does he suddenly sound like a sexy smooth audiobook narrator?
This journal entry is about to be my undoing.
“I blame The Killers. We were all jumping up and down, screaming the chorus to ‘Mr. Brightside’ when we turned to each other and something passed between us. I don’t know how it happened, but those damn eyes and those damn dimples of hers snuck out and grabbed me.
I was defenseless against her. That’s why I couldn't leave her side the rest of the night. Nobody seemed to notice anything was different, except Daisy.”
I remember the exact moment he’s reading about. One minute, we were yelling the words in each other's faces as we danced, and then out of nowhere, I had to have him.
“It was late, but the party was still in full swing when she asked me to help her with something upstairs. I let her drag me by the hand into Mia’s room.
I should have put a stop to it when she locked the door, but the way she looked at me cemented my feet to the floor.
We hadn’t even kissed when she said it would be rude to be naughty on Mia’s bed.
So, I let her lead me into the walk-in closet.
I didn’t have to follow. I should have unlocked the door and gotten the hell out of there.
But I wanted her. My best friend’s sister.
Now I’m fucked. We stared at each other for what felt like forever before she dropped her phone to the carpeted floor and the time flashed 1:11.
In that moment of attraction and insanity, it seemed like a sign from the universe.
This isn’t on her. It’s on me. I mean, how lame, dude.
The clock says 1:11. That means we have to kiss. What is that bullshit?”
Turning to look at him, I interrupt his flow. “Wait, I thought that was some sort of superstition.”
“Nah, I heard it in a song or something. I wanted to kiss you, but I was so over my head, Daisy. I didn’t know how to start with you. Wanting you like I did was a goddamn shock to my system. The numbers lining up like they had was a convenient excuse.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. But it turned out to mean something after all, because it happens every time. I may have made it up in the moment, but you have to admit it’s crazy how the clock aligns whenever we’re together. It’s our thing now. Like the universe has been giving us a sign all these years.”
Goosebumps break out all over my body. Not sure how to reply, I say, “Keep reading.”
“Now who’s the bossy one?”
My focus is back on the ceiling; I need to hear more. I need to hear everything. “Do as you're told.”