Page 35 of Homecoming

TWELVE

Owen followed her up the stairs, curious about where she lived. And when he saw her space, he saw Grace. The apartment was colorful and fun, with comfortable looking furniture. There weren’t a lot of walls. It was very open, with a section in the back separated with gauzy purple curtains. He could see her bed beyond, and the thought of being so close to that, with her, made his blood head south. Forcing himself to turn away, he looked at the walls. They were covered with unique, colorful, playful art. There was a round table in one corner covered with containers of beads in a rainbow of colors. He stepped closer. There was a half finished owl on the mat, with several different shaped beads scattered around it.

Owen couldn’t help but smile at the explosion of color she was. Turning, he moved toward the kitchen, and he noticed a bare spot on the floor, with a bunch of presents pushed aside. It looked like there had been a Christmas tree there, but it was gone. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew where it had gone. Up his mountain.

“This was just open storage when I bought the building,” Grace said, reaching for scissors to cut a package of tortellini open. “My brother Baron came in and helped me put in abathroom and kitchen. Another brother helped me with tile in the bathroom.”

She unsnapped the lid on a simmering crock pot, and the most amazing scent wafted to him. “What is that?” he asked, moving closer.

“This is a sausage tortellini soup with spinach.”

His mouth watered and he realized how achingly hungry he was. He leaned against the counter and watched her stir the tortellini into the soup, then she replaced the lid. “That needs to cook for about five minutes. Just enough time to do up some bread.”

She stepped close, smiled up at him, and reached behind him for a loaf of French bread. Owen smiled too, and didn’t move. He’d known she was going to need the loaf. “You know,” she murmured, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “I could put this all on simmer…”

Immediately, the arousal that he’d been fighting off surged back. “That’s not why I came up here,” he said, but his voice had gone even raspier than normal.

She shrugged and ran the backs of her fingers along the line of buttons down his shirt, then started to pull away. “We don’t have to. I just thou…”

Owen didn’t even realize he’d moved until he was kissing her, his fingers burrowing into her thick hair. Grace moaned and leaned into him, her hands reaching around his back to pull him close. Then those hands wandered down to settle at his hips, and Owen knew he was in trouble. She settled her hips against his, and there was no way she couldn’t feel the erection trying to punch out of his jeans.

It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman, and he worried that it would all happen too fast. Dragging in a deep breath, he pulled back slightly, looking down into her dazedeyes. “It’s been a long time for me,” he told her honestly, “and there are things I haven’t told you. Maybe we should slow down.”

“Are you married? Or on the run from the law?”

He choked out a laugh. “No, to both.”

“Then I suggest we grab our fun while we can,” she murmured, lifting her face for another kiss.

Owen obliged her, but he worried that they were doing things in the wrong order. He really liked Grace. More than any other woman he’d ever been with. And he didn’t want to screw anything up. Hell, he didn’t want to fuck himself up anymore than he already was. What if they slept together, he told her about the Dogs and she dumped him?

No, he had to have faith that she wouldn’t do that.

Owen lost himself in her taste and feel. Kissing was very personal, and he couldn’t remember enjoying it more. With other women, it was kind of this obligatory thing. With Grace, he wanted to taste every corner of her mouth, and feel the glide of her tongue on his.

Her breasts pressed into his chest, and he wanted to feel the weight of them in his hands.

Grace was humming with arousal.It had started in the car, of course, when he kissed her the first time. And then Owen’s possessiveness when Walker had come to the window. She wasn’t usually one who was turned on by cave dweller behavior, and he hadn’t actually acted that way, but she’d seen the way he’d looked at Walker, like he’d tear him from her if he got too close.

Something in her had loved that feeling. Owen was a big, extremely masculine man, and she loved the thought of him protecting her.

Too many romance novels and weddings, she supposed.

There was no denying the way he made her feel, though. Her clit was pounding with her excitement and when he’d backpedaled, she’d lost some of her sense. She’d wanted Owen Black for months, and now was their chance to snatch some time for themselves. There was no hiding the huge bulge she could feel against her belly, so it wasn’t as if he didn’t want her.

And whatever he had to tell her could wait.

Her thinking was probably muddled by the endorphins from the wedding, but, whatever.

Turning, she punched a button on the crockpot. The tortellini would probably be mush by the time they got to it, but she couldn’t really care. Taking his beat up hand in her own, she led him toward the bed. Then she turned in his arms just in time for his mouth to come down on hers, hard. It was perfect.

Grace ran her fingers up into his hair. It was so soft and springy. She tried to smooth the hat ring, but it sprang right back. Smiling into the kiss, she ran her hands down his broad shoulders, then down his arms. Owen had an outdoorsman’s shape, and she could tell he enjoyed physical labor.

She started unfastening the buttons of his shirt, but he drew back. With a purely impatient, masculine movement, he reached over his head and pulled his flannel and tee shirt off, tossing them aside.

Grace stared at Owen. No, she stared at Owen’s hard body, and the cobbled abs. His chest was covered with thick, dark hair, with a heavy line going down the middle of his stomach. Her mouth literally watered at the thought of following that line of hair…

“Merry Christmas to me,” she murmured, and Owen grinned. Grace had to stop for a moment, entranced by the wide, unrestrained pleasure in that look. It was the first time she’d really seen all the worry eased from his eyes. It was probably the first time he’d done something solely for himself. At least, in a long time.

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