Page 115 of Love You Madly

His words are raw, but they hit me in a way that makes my heart race, a thrill coursing through me. It’s not just the heat in his voice, it’s the way he says it—like he’s been waiting all night for this, like I’m the only one who can make him feel this way. I can feel the tension between us, the kind that pulls tighter with every second we stand there, the weight of his words making my pulse quicken. A flush creeps up my neck, but there’s no embarrassment in it—just anticipation. He makes me feel wanted, like I’m something to be adored, and it’s a feeling that wraps around me, making my skin tingle.

This is more than just desire. It’s connection, it’s intimacy, it’s the way he sees me, the way he makes me feel like no one else ever has.

The drive back home is filled with a quiet, electric anticipation. The memory of Owen’s words lingers in the air between us, wrapping around me, heating my skin. Every glance he steals, every slight touch of his hand on my thigh as he drives sends my thoughts spiraling. I can feel the tension building with eachpassing mile, the promise of what’s to come hanging in the space between us like a heavy, intoxicating cloud.

By the time we pull up to my house, my pulse is already racing. Owen cuts the engine, his eyes locking onto mine as if he’s been waiting for this moment all night. The air between us shifts, charged and thick with desire. There’s a silence that hangs for a beat, both of us knowing what’s coming next.

Once we’re inside, the door barely clicks shut before Owen’s hands are on me, pulling me against him. His lips crash against mine, fierce and hungry, as if the tension has finally snapped. My back presses against the wall, his body heat surrounding me, every inch of him making my skin tingle. The kiss is full of promise, full of everything he said earlier, and it sends a rush of heat straight through me.

“I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear as he trails kisses down my neck, each one sending a jolt of electricity through me. His hands slide over my hips, lifting me slightly as I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist.

“Owen…” My voice is a breathless whisper, barely holding back the anticipation that’s been building all evening.

“I told you I’d worship you, didn’t I?” His voice is low, a rumble that vibrates against my skin, full of that same possessiveness that makes my heart race. He carries me toward the bedroom, every step deliberate, as if he’s savoring the control, knowing that he’s about to make good on every word he promised.

We reach the bed, and he lays me down with such reverence, as if I’m something sacred. His hands glide over my skin, pushing up my shirt, exposing my belly, my chest. His touch is slow and deliberate, as if he’s memorizing every inch of me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes, his lips grazing over the swell of my belly, kissing every exposed inch of skin with agentleness that makes me melt. He works his way down, his kisses trailing lower, leaving a path of heat in their wake. I can feel the anticipation building, my body responding to every brush of his lips, every glide of his fingers.

And then he’s there, between my legs, pulling off my clothes with a deliberate slowness that has me nearly trembling. His eyes lock onto mine, and the intensity of his gaze holds me captive. His desire for me is plain as day. He presses a soft kiss to the inside of my thigh, his hands gripping my hips as he leans in, his breath hot against my skin.

He doesn’t break eye contact as he murmurs, “Let me show you how a goddess is meant to be worshipped.”

His mouth finds me, and the first touch of his tongue sends a shockwave through my body. I arch into him, my hands fisting the sheets as a moan escapes my lips. He begins slowly, teasing and taking his time, his tongue delivering deliberate strokes that leave me dizzy with pleasure. It’s almost too much, the way he’s lavishing attention on me, like he’s determined to worship every inch of me the way he promised.

I’m lost in it, in him, the way he’s making me feel like I’m the only thing that matters, the way every touch, every kiss, feels like he’s pouring everything he has into me. My whole body is on fire, the tension winding tighter with every flick of his tongue, every gentle graze of his fingers against my skin.

“Owen,” I gasp, the heat building to a point where I can barely stand it. My body is trembling, every nerve alight, my hands reaching for him, needing more, needing him.

And just when I think I can’t take it anymore, he pushes me over the edge, the tension snapping as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me. My body arches off the bed, his name a breathless cry on my lips as I come undone beneath him.

As I regain my senses, Owen hovers above me, eyes filled with desire and a satisfied grin playing at his lips. He bendsdown, placing a gentle kiss on my mouth, and I can taste myself on him, the lingering heat between us still palpable.

“You taste so fucking good,” he whispers, his voice husky as he pulls me close, wrapping me in his arms. His breath is warm against my neck as he murmurs, “And I’m nowhere near finished with you yet.”

fifty

BETTER TOGETHER - JACK JOHNSON

OWEN - AUGUST 2, 2013

It’s been six days since that night with Callie, six days since I memorized every inch of her in a way that still leaves me breathless. The memory of her lingers—her warmth, the way she looked at me like I was her entire world. I can’t stop thinking about it, constantly replaying each moment in my mind.

But life doesn’t stop just because I can’t get her out of my head.

As I step out of the hospital, the late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the parking lot, the warmth on my skin doing little to ease the tension coiled tight in my chest. Two weeks. It’s been two long weeks since I last saw Barrett in person. FaceTime calls have been our lifeline, but they’re nothing compared to the feeling of holding him, hearing his laugh in person, or seeing the way his eyes light up when he talks about dinosaurs or trains. It’s the longest I’ve ever gone without being with him, and the hurt of missing him is aconstant reminder of the downsides of co-parenting. Every day away from him feels like a day lost.

I drive toward Sabrina’s house and the familiar route seems longer than usual. My mind keeps wandering to Callie. The memory of her, so vivid and warm, lingers with me. I haven’t seen her since the night of the concert, and the hollow space inside me grows wider with every day that passes without her. I try to convince myself that this is just how things are right now—she’s busy with Sara, and I’ve got Barrett. But the longing, the need to be near her, doesn’t care about logistics. It gnaws at me, a constant, quiet hunger that I can’t shake.

When I finally pull up in front of Sabrina’s place, I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on the moment. I’m here for Barrett, and that’s what matters right now. But as soon as Sabrina opens the door, I can tell something’s off. The look in her eyes—a combination of curiosity, concern, and something else I can’t quite place—throws me off balance.

“When were you going to tell me that Barrett was going to be a big brother?” Sabrina’s voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it that cuts right through me. It’s a tone I’ve heard before, usually when something important is on the line.

My stomach drops. I knew this conversation was coming, but I thought I would be the one to bring it up, not the other way around. “He’s not, Sabrina. Not biologically,” I say, feeling the words lodge in my throat. “The woman I’m dating is pregnant, yes. But Callie was pregnant when I met her.”

The words hang in the air between us. I consider telling Sabrina more details, trying to help her understand. But there are certain things about Callie’s circumstances that aren’t my story to tell. Frankly, it’s not Sabrina’s business to know what my girlfriend has gone through.

Sabrina’s eyes narrow slightly, her posture shifting as shecrosses her arms over her chest. “Sounds messy, Owen. You need to be careful. Especially with Barrett involved.”

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