Page 33 of Sweet and Salty

My hand falls over his between my thighs, urging him to touch me harder.

“Goddamn,” he says at the move, doing as I urge.

I gasp, my heart fluttering as everything in me tightens and narrows to the places we connect—his hand, his cock, my spine flush with his muscled chest. It’s all too much and not enough.

Sparks ignite beneath my skin, spiraling in a wave of pleasure that coils inside me.

“Owen,” I gasp, pushing back against him harder. “Yes. God, I’m coming.”

“Fuck me,” he growls, upping his pace right along with the pressure on my aching clit, sending me flying right over the edge.

I gasp as I come, my release tearing through me in a sharp snap of pleasure that floods my body, tingling over my skin as he draws it out, squeezing every ounce of pleasure out of me until I feel my thighs tremble from the exertion of it. I feel him harden inside me as he growls, his release spilling inside me with several hot, hard strokes.

We catch our breath, the water now lukewarm on our skin before Owen gently moves me, cleaning us up with a touch that is so damn gentle it makes my heart expand in my chest.

I shut the water off after he’s done, grabbing an extra towel and handing it to him.

It’s hard to get dressed for work when all my body wants is to fall back into bed—with Owen in it—but I have patients that are counting on me, so I get ready.

“I’ll drive,” he says after he gets dressed, looking way too good in his usual pair of pants and a black T-shirt. He bends down to kiss the spot on my neck he bit, luckily not hard enough to mark me like he had my breast. I still have a red mark there from last night and couldn’t help but flush when I saw it in the mirror this morning. “And we can grab coffee on the way.”

I spin around, wrapping my arms around him. “You really are a dream,” I say.

He smiles down at me, hefting me up to his level. “If that’s the case, let’s never wake up.”

I kiss him, soft and easy, just because I can. “Deal.”

CHAPTER 11

Owen

It's been nine days since the first time I slept at Zoe’s place, and I've spent every single night there since.

You'd think at some point we’d need a break or risk burnout with how new the relationship is between us, not to mention the fact that I see her all day at work too, but neither one of us has popped the brakes.

For me at least, it's quite the opposite.

I can't get enough of her.

And it's not just because of how spectacular we are in the bedroom.

We're good together ineveryfacet, whether that be grabbing a quick lunch during her breaks in her workday, me grumbling at the stubborn stray cat she loves, watching ridiculous shows on Netflix together, or attending elaborate functions with her fancy friends.

It's like we've always been together—making each other laugh or going lust-starved from just an innocent touch. I'm not surprised, especially since her texts alone used to make my entire day. Now that I get to wake up next to her? It's making me think things I havenobusiness thinking.

Things like asking her to officially be mine even though I know I shouldn’t.

She understands my work and is more accepting of it than anyone ever has been before, but that doesn't mean she's ready to commit to a monogamous relationship where I can get called away on assignment for months at a time. And despite knowing that, the idea of her dating anyone else makes this territorial asshole creep up inside me, full of jealousy and ownership I have no right to.

Still, it doesn't stop me from feeling the way I do. From wanting to keep her all to myself. From wanting the honor and privilege of calling hermineand doing everything I can, every single day, for the rest of forever, to make her happy.

Jesus, I've only known her a few months, and I’m already picturing a forever? I must be losing my damn mind, because I've never once thought these things before. Never considered quitting my contract work and letting the nightclub be my sole source of income.

Not that Zoe would ask that of me, but she'd absolutely be worth it.

Plus, I know for a fact it would bemestruggling through a months-long separation more than her. She’s simply stronger than me, mentally and emotionally.

I do my best to force these racing thoughts from my mind as I scan the footage from the previous day around Zoe’s office while she's in with a client.

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