Page 84 of The Reality of Us
Owen froze underneath her. “Do we not?”
“You know I’m on the pill. And I’m clear. I haven’t been with anyone but you for years. I don’t want anything between us.”
The way his Adam’s apple bobbed made her roll her hips.
“I’ve never done this without one.” His hands gripped her hips. “You’re sure? It’ll be messy.”
She slipped down his length, the head breaching her entrance and enjoyed the way Owen sucked in a deep breath, his eyes darkening.
“We can handle messy. Don’t you think?”
His eyes turned the colour of golden whiskey as she hovered above him, not moving, waiting for a sign from him. Her arms shook, and she bit the inside of her cheek. Owen lay perfectly still, his chest rising and falling. Then, without warning, he pushed up and she sank down. A startling thought ripped through her.
If I could do this every day for the rest of my life, I would.
“Oh my God. This is amazing. You’re amazing,” he said.
Alice paused, reality hitting her hard. The barriers around her heart had taken a hit each time Owen was sweet to her, but for the first time, she realised they were all gone. He hadn’t even stolen her heart. She’d given it to him willingly.
“Honey …” Owen reached up, cupping her cheek tenderly. All his hard lines and rough edges were gone, replaced with sweetness and concern. “It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind. If this is too much, I’ll get a condom. We can stop.”
This was it. She could say it now. Look down into his eyes, filled with golden flecks and worry, and tell him she loved him, but something stopped her.
The fire outside popped, and she shook her head, breathing deeply. If he rejected her, and anything short of a declaration of love would be a rejection, the next twenty-four hours would be unbearable.
“Thought I heard something,” she lied, looking over her shoulder to where the tent flap was zipped shut.
“There’s nothing out there to worry about.” He pulled her against his chest, rolling them over so he was on top. His eyes searched hers; no need for him to verbalise the question in them. Alice nodded, and Owen started to move, sliding almost all the way out before he pushed deep, hitting all the hot spots that turned her into a quivering, gooey mess. She matched his rhythm, opening herself even more to him. His skin was dewy, muscles tensing under her fingers as they swept across his back, his breathing erratic.
He didn’t stop when she fell apart again, calling out his name. He sped up, pushing deeper, chasing his release. When his rhythm faltered, Alice knew he was close. A low moan erupted from his mouth as he stilled. He dropped to his elbows, mashing their chests together, hearts beating wildly against each other.
“That was amazing.” He licked the sweat from her collarbone, and Alice’s stomach growled.
“Let’s clean up and eat.” He laughed. “You’re going to need your energy tomorrow.”
As Owen ladled beef and vegetable stew into chipped camp bowls, Alice knew what she had to do. About everything. Phoenix. The investor for her company. How she wanted her future to look.
“Hey,” she said, waiting for him to look up. “Let’s file the injunction as soon as we get back. Tell Phoenix I’m not offering a financial settlement.”
She just had to trust that it would all work out the way she hoped it would.
30
Owen could pinpoint the exact moment Alice saw the rock-climbing course in the distance. Red flags hung at varying heights, flapping listlessly in the breeze. She faltered, loose rocks skittering off the side of the trail they’d been following for the last hour, but she didn’t stop. The voices of the team behind them—a pair of paramedics—weren’t far away. Nine new page thirteens were tucked neatly in his running vest. His hands ached from using a rock to dig the last one out of the ground.
“Boy Scout,” Alice whispered, dropping back so they could run next to each other. “That’s pretty damn high.”
“You’ll be on the ground the whole time, remember?”
“But what if you fall?”
“That’s not going to happen.” His chest tightened at her concern for him, followed by regret because he’d chickened out last night, keeping those three little words to himself.
The sun dipped behind the thick treetops of the next section of trail, the temperature dropping. Tree branches and limbs twisted around each other, dappled sunlight pushing through the gaps in the canopy.
“Passing,” a man called, a smile in his voice Owen didn’t need to turn around to see. Shit.
“Oh, hell no,” Alice muttered when the two guys pushed past them, their steps even, arms pumping. “They’re not beating us.”
