Page 32 of Escape

He drops his bag by the door, his eyes finding me almost instantly. The way he looks at me—like I’m the only thing that matters—sends a flutter of warmth through my chest.

“Comfy?” he teases, nodding toward my outfit.

“Always,” I reply, but my voice wavers just slightly. I glance down at my hands, twisting them nervously in my lap. “Look, about earlier... I might’ve gone a little overboard.”

Owen raises an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Overboard?”

“With the texts,” I clarify, my cheeks heating. “I mean, it was fun, but... I don’t know if I’m ready for anything more than... you know.” I immediately feel guilty for being such a tease… or a coward, not sure which is worse in this moment.

He drops onto the sofa beside me, his eyes soft as they meet mine. “What are you ready for, Mel?”

His question is simple, but it makes my throat tighten. He’s not pushing, not judging—just waiting.

“A cuddle?” I suggest hesitantly, glancing up at him through my lashes.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. “A cuddle, huh? I think I can manage that.”

Before I can overthink it, he reaches for me, his hands warm and steady as he pulls me into his lap. I settle against him, my head resting on his chest, his arms wrapping around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The tension in my shoulders eases as I sink into him, his steady heartbeat grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed.

“And maybe...” I begin, my voice quieter now, “a kiss?”

I tilt my head up, my eyes locking onto his. His expression softens, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. “Maybe?” he teases gently.

“Definitely,” I correct, my voice firmer this time.

He leans down slowly, his breath brushing against my skin, and when his lips meet mine, it’s like everything else fades away.

The kiss starts soft, tentative, but it quickly deepens, his hands sliding up to cradle my face as I press closer to him. There’s nothing rushed about it—just the steady, electric pull between us, like we’ve both been holding back for far too long.

When we finally pull back, I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. I so needed this.

“So,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “was that worth the build-up?”

“Shut up,” I whisper, laughing softly as I nudge his shoulder. “You know what I would really like? Some neck kisses.”

“You kissing my neck or me kissing your neck,” he teases.

“You kissing my neck,” I reply and my tummy flips in anticipation.

He grins at me, all white teeth and mischief, before he leans in. His lips press to my jaw, warm and gentle as he starts to move. The kisses are soft at first, just a teasing brush of his mouth against my skin. But then he changes the angle slightly, tilting his head so that he can kiss lower.

His lips trail down the column of my throat and I shiver in response. It’s such a simple thing, but it feels so good. He places another kiss just below the hollow of my throat and I let out a tiny whimper.

Encouraged by my reaction, he continues his slow exploration. His lips leave a trail of heat along my neck as he moves up and down. The sensation is deliciously torturous, making me squirm in my seat.

I reach out and grab his hand, needing something to hold onto. His fingers twine with mine and I squeeze tight as his lips find aparticularly sensitive spot. A low moan escapes from deep within me and I can feel the desire pooling between my thighs.

Not wanting to be left out, I turn towards him and press my lips against his neck. He gives a low growl of approval and tightens his grip on my hand.

I start to kiss him in earnest now, trailing little nips and bites along the sensitive skin of his neck. He groans softly in response and I feel a surge of satisfaction at being able to elicit such a reaction from him.

But then he pulls away slightly, breaking our connection.

My brow furrows in confusion but before I can say anything, his hand comes up to cradle the back of my head. And then he’s pulling me towards him.

For a moment I’m disorientated but then our mouths meet with bruising force and everything else fades away. All that matters now is this—the way our tongues slide together in perfect synchrony, the way his lips are firm and demanding against mine.

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