Page 68 of Sparks Still Fly

Fuck. Me. I’m gonna have to deny my wife, aren’t I?

“Maevey. What are you doing?” I set the glass and pills on the nightstand and straighten.

“I want you, Owen. Please?” She starts to move the covers down her body, and I, being the fool that I am, stop her and tuck her in tighter.

“Not yet. Soon. I promise.” Her eyes go glassy with tears, and I regret everything I’ve just said.

“You don’t want me?” Her voice cracks as she whines, and it’s actually a little bit adorable. How could she think I don’t want her?

Right. She’s drunk.

“Hey, no. It’s not because I don’t want you. I do. So much. But I need you to sleep off this wine first, okay?” I brush some of the hair off her forehead, and she wiggles.

I lay down next to her, above the covers, and she burrows her face into my chest, taking a deep breath. I run my hand up and down her back, and she closes her eyes tightly, then relaxes as she takes another deep inhale. Within seconds, her breathing evens out, a soft snore occasionally slipping out. For a few minutes, I allow myself to savor the feel of her against me like this for the second time today. Then, I get up quietly and walk out, shutting the door gently behind me.

38/

fuck first. food later.

maeve

I open my eyes to find that it’s still light outside.

Or did I sleep through the night? No…that’s not possible, is it?

Based on the warmth of the sunshine, I’m assuming it’s sunset, not sunrise. I sit up to find myself quite naked, which is surprising for a moment, until the memories come back to me. Me begging Owen to shag me, getting undressed under the covers, nearly crying when he said no—for good reason, of course. I was properly sloshed.

I can’t even bring myself to be embarrassed. I’m not sure I would have acted differently had I not had that many glasses of wine in me. I’m so wound up for him, I’m not sure I can go another day without feeling his weight on me.

Better not get too caught up in those thoughts right now, though.

I reach for the water and painkillers on the nightstand, and down the tablets. There’s a dull ache in my head, but thankfully it’s not too bad. Walking over to the attached bathroom, I get in the shower, thoroughly enjoying the hot water on my skin.

Dressed in sleep shorts and a tank top, I leave the bedroom as the scent of garlic and something like bacon hits my nostrils, making me moan. If Owen is in the kitchen cooking, I can’t be held responsible for my actions. Few things in this world are hotter than a man cooking. I haven’t even seen him yet, and the thought of him has my skin heating. I’m quite willing to beg him again to get naked and get inside me.

Sure enough, there he is, moving something around a pan as it sizzles on the stove. He turns in time to see me walking in and a huge smile spreads across his face, making my stomach flip. It’s his boyish smile, his sweet I-don’t-know-I’m-smiling smile. It’s my favorite.

“Hey, Maevey. Good nap?” How can this man be asking me about my nap when he’s walking around this kitchen in low-slung sweats and a T-shirt that clings to his every muscle?

I don’t give a shit about my nap!

“Oh. Okay. Sorry I asked?” He turns back to the stove and moves the pan from the hot element.

I said the thing about the nap out loud then. Right. Great. Bloody hell.

“Are you all right?” He's giving me his full attention now, nothing is visibly being cooked anymore.

“All my thoughts are coming out of my mouth, and just the sight of you standing there is making me hornier than I’ve ever been in my entire life, so no. I am, in fact, not all right.” I tug at the hem of my tank top simply to give my hands something to do. “I’m not opposed to begging when I’m sober, Owen.”

Before I get the chance to speak again, he’s in front of me, hands on his hips, eyes on my lips. “You never have to beg me for anything, Maevey. You want me to take you to my bed and fuck you until you can’t remember your name?” I nod so big and so fast that my vision blurs. Owen lifts me off the floor, and I wrap my legs around him. My back hits the wall, and I gasp. “I was making us dinner. You don’t want to eat first?”

“Fuck first. Food later,” I say against his lips.

“As you wish.” Both of his hands give my ass a strong squeeze, then we’re on the move again. I expect my back to hit the bed next, but instead, my feet hit the floor. “This is probably gonna go too fast, but I promise I’m gonna take my time on the next round, all right?” He pulls off his T-shirt with one hand, then pushes his pants and boxer briefs to the floor in one swoop. He steps off the heap of clothes on the floor and opens the drawer on his nightstand, pulling out a condom.

“No,” I say, causing him to stop and look back at me. “I mean no to the condom. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, and I’ve been tested. I’m on the pill. I don’t want anything between us.” That gets him to look at me.

“Me too. Uh, the not being with anyone and being tested, I mean.” While he’s facing me, I take the opportunity to let my eyes roam all over him. At the new tattoos on his chest, at the way his muscles move, at how different yet the same he looks since last time.

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