Page 55 of Love Me Tomorrow

Oh, God.

“Because I’m done watching other guys flirt with you.” His palms skim up to the tops of my thighs, his fingers finding the crease of my hips. “So, I’m going to put this real simple.” Thumbs digging in, he snaps my ass forward so that the bulge behind his zipper aligns perfectly with the apex of my thighs. I moan. Right there, out loud. The bridge of his nose finds my jaw, nudging upward so I’m giving him all the room to play with my neck. His tongue flits out when he finds my fluttering pulse. “I’m gonna fuck you, Rose. And it’s not going to be elegant and pretty, like you’re accustomed to.” Another flick of his tongue, another shameless moan torn from my lips. “You’re going to beg. Beg me to make you come, beg me to give you more, and if you’re real good, maybe I’ll do it all over again before you have to beg for that too.”

I can’t breathe.

My chest heaves, my mouth sucks in air, but it all feels completely pointless when faced with this new reality:

Owen wants me to beg. He wants me to submit.

What he doesn’t realize is that I’ve wanted this for so long that my desire for him feels like it’s been sewn into my very being. I breathe in, and I catch his scent. I breathe out, and my fingers are already prepared to latch onto his frame and tug him close.

No one else will do. I’ve tried. God, have I tried. I went on blind dates while he went out with Amelie. I ended up on a TV show that set me up as the sole girlfriend to twenty-six men formonths, only to leave exactly the way I showed up: alone. I stayed away out of respect for Amelie, for my dad’s stupid ultimatum, and yes, for me, too.

A man like Owen Harvey will destroy me. He’ll take my life that fits perfectly within the Rose plans and he’ll dismantle it piece by piece, not out of maliciousness but because he believes I can do better. Because he believes that I shouldn’t ever settle for the status quo.

Call me crazy but I’m ready to be ruined.

Iwantto be ruined.

One big hand slicks up my spine until it’s cradling the base of my head. “You have three seconds to tell me you don’t want this to happen.”

Crooked nose. Furrowed brows. Crescent-shaped scar.Gorgeous. He’d scoff if I said it out loud, but Owen . . . he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met. Inside and out.

“Three.”

I kick off my other high heel. Hear it fall to the floor.

“Two.”

I don’t wait for him to move first.

Throwing caution to the wind, I cup Owen’s face with both hands. His beard tickles my palms and his hot gaze homes in on my mouth, like I’m the sole patch of light in a night of complete darkness.

“One,” I whisper with finality, and then I take fate into my own hands and press my mouth to Owen Harvey’s.

He tastes like self-destruction.

And I’ve never had better.

17

Owen

Savannah kisses me like I’m a fine wine worth savoring. Soft, tentative strokes of her tongue against my mouth. Shy, hesitant fingers threading through my hair to angle me closer. She sips from my lips, little butterfly kisses that tease and incite insanity more than they satisfy the lust pounding ruthlessly through my veins.

She kisses me like the sweetheart America claims her to be.

Sweet. Gentle. Elegant.

Even now, with her mouth pressed to mine, she’s seated with her shoulders squared off and an even straighter spine. Place a book on the top of her head, and I doubt it’d fall off, her posture is so perfect. Always the consummate debutante, her hands remain loose on the nape of my neck.

It’s not enough.

I want to feel her nails score my skin.

I want to know that when she thrusts her breasts forward, it’s because she’s begging me to take her nipple in my mouth and make this so damn good for her.

I want to see her lose some fucking control for once—and I want to be the reason she comes undone.

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