Page 20 of Forgot to Tell You Something

I break the kiss, my breathing heavy. “At this rate, we’ll never leave the apartment.”

“I love that idea.” He drops tiny kisses along my jaw, his hands wrapping around my hips. “Do you know how much I wanted to kiss you last night? How much I want to strip you naked and spend the rest of the night buried inside you?”

My last vestiges of resolve weaken at his heated words. Let’s be honest, it’s nonexistent around this man. “Owen—”

“How much I need you to know that this isn’t some play for sex? I’ve never reacted to another human being this way.” His forehead rests against mine, his fingers skating along my body.

We’re on the same page, because I’ve never felt anything remotely like what I feel with Owen. Hedgecore be damned, I’d rather spend the evening with him. Sans clothing, of course.

Then I feel it. The gentle vibration is unmistakable. “Someone’s trying to reach you.”

“Talk about terrible timing.” He pulls out his phone, glancing at the caller ID. “I’m so sorry. I really need to take this call. It’s about work.”

“Of course, go,” I reply, shooing him out of the room.

In a way, I’m glad the moment was broken before we wound up naked and sweaty on my bedroom floor. Okay, fine. I’m glad the moment was broken before I wound upalonethe morning after a night on the bedroom floor.

I powder my nose in the bathroom, returning to find Owen once again petting Hecate, a confident smile on his face. “Good news, I take it.”

“Great news,” he replies, grasping my hand and twirling me around. “You’re my good luck charm, Tally.”

“Better keep me close, then,” I reply, grabbing my purse from the chair and pressing a kiss to his lips with my finger.

“Darlin, I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”

I flush as he leads me out of the apartment, but I can’t keep the smile from my lips.

Good, Owen. I don’t plan on letting you.

* * *

Wicked Chucks is far more sedate than last night, although it could be that the air is imbued with a festive spirit instead of anarchy and melodrama.

Owen links his fingers with mine, weaving us through the crowd to grab a seat at the bar.

Dan offers a knowing wink when he spots us. “Hey, Tallulah, aren’t you gorgeous tonight?”

“I don’t know about all that.”

“I do,” Owen answers for me. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

Dan nods at Owen’s statement, a nonverbal cue that he approves of his response. “Owen, right?”

“Good man. Nice to see you again, Dan,” Owen replies, shaking hands with my friend and ordering us a couple of drinks. He then turns to me, his hands skating under my skirt to press on my thighs. “Look at you, Tally.”

“What about me?”

“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Is it wrong that I’m praying for a freak cancelation, so I can take you home?”

I’ve never encountered a man so blatantly sexual toward me. Okay, never one where I actually returned the affection, and all I can say is keep it coming. “What would you do to me?”

He crowds into my space, and the surrounding noise falls away, as his hands grasp my ass, pulling me against him. “To start, tie you up and kiss every single inch of you. I want to watch you come again and again...from my fingers...my tongue...and my cock. I wonder, how many times can I make you come tonight?”

“Can I play, too? You’re not the only one with a talented tongue.” Lord have mercy, my mother would roll over in her grave, hearing me say such delightfully dirty things.

Owen’s eyes blaze, his fingers digging into the meat of my thighs. “Is that a promise, little girl?”

I pull his mouth to mine, tracing the outline of those lips with the tip of my tongue. “Only if you’re interested.”

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