Page 39 of Owen (Storm Enterprises)

“Some games are dangerous, Laya.”

I roll my eyes. Not quite sure what he’s talking about, only that he’s trying to warn me away. But there’s no way I’m leaving here without getting something from him. It’s my birthday, after all.

“I want a birthday gift from you.”

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, then I know exactly what I want for my birthday, what I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.

“I don’t do gifts.”

He stands, but I don’t step back; the heat radiating from him only adding to the heightened atmosphere between us. It’s electric and full of an intoxicating need. When his hand finds my hip, I fall against him as if his simple touch can melt me, mold me to be him. The power he wields over me should be terrifying, yet I find myself willing, desperate, even.

“What is it you want for your birthday?”

“You.”

He bites into his cheek and shakes his head, unwilling to look at me, and the defeat in his shoulders is evident.

“Your lips,” I whisper. “My first kiss,” I plead, feeling like I’m losing him already.

His eyes bounce back to mine, and he searches my face as if looking for sincerity. His nostrils flare. “First?”

“I saved it for you.”

His grip on me tightens, and his shoulders become tense. “Jesus, Laya.”

“I only want a kiss. You’ve done it a thousand times,” I protest with a hint of jealousy and anger.

His jaw tics, but I see the moment he gives in. His resolve buckles and lust is written all over his perfectly chiseled face as he slowly lowers his head, and not giving him a chance to back out, I raise up on my tiptoes to meet him.

I coax open his mouth with my tongue as I hold his jaw in place, and he allows it. He lets me take the lead, take what I want. I’m stealing my kiss, my birthday present, and I’m keeping it.

His soft tongue swipes at my mouth, and my body comes alive. Every cell inside of me screams to become his, to give myself over to him. Our kiss quickens, and my pulse races as he invades my mouth gently. He’s holding back. I know this, and I love him even more for it.

He’s allowing me to experience my first kiss the way any girl would want—with a loving tenderness only someone meaningful can bring.

In this moment, I know deep in my soul that Owen is mine. He just needs to realize it too.

He pulls back too soon, and my shoulders sag, but a thrill shoots through me when I realize his hard length presses between us. Then he jerks back, as if burned, and I try not to take his action to heart. I shocked him, the feelings between us something immense, and I know he felt it too.

“Fuck!” He drags a hand over his head, then threads his fingers behind his neck.

“Fuck, Laya.” His eyes flit to mine, and I want nothing more than to make him feel better, to bring him the relief he brings me.

So I tell him what he wants to hear. “It was just a kiss. No worries.” I shrug, as if it meant nothing, and his mouth falls open.

“Just a kiss?”

I nod, hoping above all hope I’m faking my feelings, because we both know that was more than just a kiss.

It was something profound, life changing.

He licks his traitorous lips as if savoring my taste, and when I whimper involuntarily, his gaze flares with a fire burning so bright, my heart stills for a moment.

“Leave!” he barks, his voice thick and commanding, and I know the moment between us has broken. His morals are back firmly in place, and as much as I want to beg, plead, and cry at his rejection, I step away from him, giving him the space he seeks, the control he demands.

Hurt swirls in my stomach asI open the door, and before I’m about to slip through, his voice stops me in my tracks. “Laya?” I look over my shoulder to face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what hit me. But you’ll be all right.” My shoulders deflate. “Happy Birthday, baby girl.”

A smile graces my lips. Those few words give me hope as I replay the sound of him saying baby girl on my own lips while I walk away with a smile.

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