Page 38 of Homecoming

“About half an hour.”

Damn. He moved to get up, but she pressed a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no rush. The bread is done, and I turned off the soup again,” she said. “You’re going to have to trust me on how good it normally is.”

“I believe you. You could come in here with me.”

Grace turned to look down his form, one eyebrow raised. “Warm it up,” she told him.

Owen cranked on the hot water and let out some of the cool. Then, standing beside the tub, she stripped off her tee and panties again.

Owen didn’t think he could go another round, but apparently, his body thought differently. His cock hardened as he watched her gracefully step into the tub and lower herself down across from him, her feet tangling with his legs. Hot water swirled in from the faucet, sending a shiver through him.

“When I lived in New York,” Grace said, “I didn’t have a tub. My mother is a huge proponent of soaking your worries away, and I love sitting in a bath and thinking. Dreaming. Or not thinking and dreaming.”

Owen smiled, appreciating the insight. “I’ve never seen a tub exactly like this.”

“It’s eighty inches by sixty, or something like that. Ridiculously expensive. But it was my one concession to myself when I moved back to town.”

Owen swirled his hands through the water. His body felt boneless. He started to tell her about soaking in the tub when he’d been so malnourished that even laying on a mattress hurt. But he bit down on his words. He couldn’t talk to her about that.

“What is it?” she asked.

Obviously, she saw the struggle in him. “I… I haven’t been this relaxed for a long time.”

That seemed to appease her, because she tipped her head back against the side of the tub and sank down into the water. Her hair fanned out around her as she closed her eyes.

Owen couldn’t remember being more at peace than in that moment. Tipping his head back, he also closed his eyes. The water bubbled around them.

By the time they made it out of the tub, his body was boneless and his skin had gone pruney. It had been a long time since he’d been pain free, but it had definitely eased. They dressed quietly, and he groaned when he finally tasted the soup. “Okay, mushy and all, I don’t care. This is incredible.”

Grace grinned as she sopped up the juice with her bread. “Yeah, but we’re starving. It’s almost midnight and we haven’t eaten much of anything today. Tonight,” she corrected.

“I’d better be getting up the mountain,” Owen said, doing the same. “You have Christmas with your family tomorrow morning, right?”

“Yes,” Grace sighed, pushing her hair over her shoulder. It was damp from the bath and looked heavy. Her expression turned thoughtful. “I’ve enjoyed our time, Owen.”

The words were simple, and he appreciated them, but what he felt wasn’t as simple. “I did as well, Grace.”

They finished their soup, and, reluctantly, he dressed to go outside. Into the cold. In his cold truck.

“You could go start it to warm up, then come back up here for a few minutes,” she offered. She was holding his hat, like she didn’t really want to give it to him.

“As tempting as that sounds, I think I’d better go. It will only get harder the more I delay.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to her mouth. She reached up to hold him to her, and he took advantage of her position to fondle her breasts. “You’ve got great tits,” he told her, groaning slightly as he pulled away.

“Your dick isn’t bad, either,” she said, quirking a brow at him.

Owen was grinning, and replete, as he jogged down her stairs and through the side door, locking it behind him as he left.

The truck was as cold as he thought it would be, and it even took an extra split second to crank. Owen pulled away from the curb slowly, glancing at the upper window. Grace stood there. She gave him a wave, then let the curtain fall shut.

As he drove down Main Street, he wasn’t surprised to see the sheriff’s truck drive down a side street.

When she wokeup the next morning, Grace stretched luxuriously, feeling little twinges from her exertion yesterday and last night. Man, it had been a good day.

For a moment, she rolled over in bed. The pillow smelled like Owen, and whatever yummy deodorant he used. She shivered, and her body quaked with remembered orgasms. She’d never been with anyone like Owen. He had loved her like she’d always read about in books, and just thinking about what he’d done to her, with her, made her wet again.

Feeling spontaneous, she reached for her phone. No new messages, but then, she hadn’t really expected any. Owen Black was as reserved as they came, and it would probably be up to her to reach out.

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