Page 51 of Filthy Sweet

“Reggie’s a good guy,” I tell him, using the same logic I’ve been using on myself. “Trust me, he’s always stood by my ass. He might have a big reaction, but he’ll land in the right place.”

Owen nods. “Right,” he says, uncertain, then slides his messenger bag off his shoulder. “There’s something else.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?” I ask and nod to the couch, concerned.

He sits. “It’s today,” he says, talking quickly. “I don’t think I can hook up. I don’t want to do it again until we hear back from Reggie.”

“Oh thank god.” I join him on the couch. “I didn’t know if I’d be able to tell you no, but a guilty fuck is not fun, in my opinion.”

Owen blinks. “You can’t tell me no?”

I laugh. “That’s the part you heard, Dr. Lavigne?”

He grins. I see that he’s trimmed his beard, cutting it closer to stubble again and showing more of his delicate features. “Yes, that’s the part I heard.”

I chuckle. “Smartass. Can I get you anything?”

Owen bites down on his bottom lip and shakes his head. “I’m good.” I see that he’s trying to hide his smile, which is so fucking cute my heart breaks.

It’s a real shame I’m not going to come all over that face this afternoon.

I lean forward, tempted to unravel him but fighting the urge. “If you keep blushing like that, I’m going to have to chain myself down.”

Owen laughs, and right on cue, his blush grows. “I still planned a special date for you,” he says slowly and sweetly, “even though I decided on the way over we can’t actually do it.”

I grit my teeth, my dick throbbing hard. “Yeah? What did you plan for me, Owen?”

Owen shrugs lightly and tilts his eyes to his bag. “I think I’ll probably keep it a secret,” he says, teasing. “It’s more fun that way, right?”

He’s not just playing with me; he’s kind of running circles around me.

I lick the back of my teeth, trying to keep my composure. “Sure,” I say, not giving in, then stretch my legs, giving him an easy view of my hard bulge. “You’ve already got my attention.”

Owen laughs. “Oh my god,” he says, then fans himself. “Maybe we should do something outside of your apartment today? Like a park or a movie or a restaurant, somewhere we can’t have sex.”

Based on how hot it is when Owen is flustered, and how squirmy he is on my couch right now, getting out of the apartment is probably a good idea.

“First, those are all places youcanhave sex,” I point out. “But I have an idea. Why don’t you show me your museum?”

* * *

OWEN

Fox and I stroll slowly through the Corridor of Birds, one of my favorite permanent exhibits at the museum. He sets the pace, dragging his eyes over each specimen and diorama, and tossing thoughtful questions my way.

It’s nice. So nice I can almost forget that Reggie is probably reading the note from me right about now.

“Whoa,” Fox says, halting. “What’s this punk bird?”

I laugh. “You’ve never seen a Steller’s Jay?” They’re like a bluebird on the bottom, but their top half is black, and they sport some pretty special plumage on their head. “I guess she does kind of have a mohawk.”

“And that white pattern between the eyes.” Fox pulls out his phone to snap a picture. “Cool.”

I smile to myself, absolutely delighted that he cares and I can share all my dorky insights with him. “The further away from the coast you go, the brighter those white markings are.”

“Huh,” Fox says with a grunt, then turns his eyes to me. “You know how smart you are, right?”

I laugh. “I guess so.”

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