Page 37 of Owen (Storm Enterprises)

My heart stutters, and I blink several times, trying to take in the property. It’s everything I ever dreamed of coming to life. An image of the drawing I created as a teenager flashes before me.

“If you don’t like it, we can change it.” I turn to face Owen, and he scrubs a hand over his short, cropped hair. His white T-shirt is stretched to capacity, like it’s about to tear under the pressure of his muscles bulging, and I can’t help but stare at him in admiration. Jesus, he’s hot.

Then it’s replaced by shame washing through me at the way my body reacted to his touch, his words and promises of more. My damp cheek still feels scorched by his tongue, and I clench my legs at the thought of him licking more than my cheek.

Oh god, help me.

“Are you ready to check out our house?” His eyes search mine, and I can only mewl in response, making his lip quirk up. “Come on, baby girl, let’s get you home.”

He opens the car door and steps out, shutting the door behind him. I stare at the house. A sense of warmth encompasses me, and I delight in it.

“Home,” I whisper as he moves toward my door.

The house is incredible. Every thought I ever imagined, every passing comment I ever made, has been recreated.

My fingers graze over the banister as we move up the wrought iron spiral staircase and step onto a landing. Double doors lie ahead of us, and I know that’s the master suite because I created it.

He stops outside another door. “Romeo’s room.” He licks his lips and fidgets from foot to foot, giving away his nervousness.

“Romeo?”

“Yeah. I like the shortened version of it. Don’t you?” I do like it. A lot, and when I stare down at him in the carrier Owen holds, my heart constricts. It’s like Owen’s nickname for him is his way of naming him, and my heart swells at the thought.

“I do.”

A smile spreads across Owen’s face, and I find myself replicating it.

When he opens the door, my breath is stolen from my lungs. A beautifully painted blue-and-gray nursery with a Romeo name plaque above the crib in intricate writing with animals surrounding it greets us. I spin on my feet and note the soft toys, blankets, and diapers neatly tucked away. Then I walk toward a closet, and my eyebrows shoot up at the rails filled with clothes.

He clears his throat. “I chose them all myself.”

I turn to face him, and he pulls me toward him, making me gasp in surprise. “Do you like?”

My chest swells with love at his words and the way he stares down at me with expectation in his eyes. I bite into my lip as our gazes remain locked, then he dips his head and takes my lips. A soft sensual kiss has me melting against his firm chest, and I ballmy hand into a fist to cling to his T-shirt. My body comes alive under his touch, and when he pulls back, I’m breathless and desperate for more, but a shooting pain has me wincing.

His eyebrows furrow. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”

I realize he’s concerned about my cut lip, and I’m quick to reassure him. “No. I think my period is due.”

His pupils dilate, and his Adam’s apple slowly slides down his throat. “Yeah?” His voice comes out choked.

I nod and dart my eyes away, a little embarrassed. “Yeah. I’ve been having cramps all day. It’ll be my first period since having Romero.”

He nods, as if taking in all the information.

“Do you need anything?” His gaze rakes over me, and my cheeks heat under the intensity. The way his eyes eat me up has me squirming on the spot.

“I have some tampons in my bag, but I’ll probably need more.”

He blows out a deep breath. “I have all that shit in our room for you. Come on.” He holds out his hand, and I slip mine into his, then he lifts Romero and we leave the nursery and head down the corridor.

Why would he have tampons in our room? Does he bring other women here? A sliver of uncertainty ripples through me and I tense, then Owen stops walking.

“What’s wrong?” His gaze searches mine. Always so in tune with my body, it’s almost like he controls a part of it.

“You said you had tampons here.” I turn away, annoyed that I’m jealous of other women, yet hurt he created this home for us and allowed them to stay here. He turns my chin to face him, and his eyebrows become narrowed.

I sigh. “Why would you have tampons here?”

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