Page 33 of Filthy Sweet

“I want you, Fox.”

I can feel Owen’s words. They hit a place inside me, scraping across raw nerves. All my survival skills, my calculated thinking and smartass ideas, they cease to matter.

He needs this, and I need him just as bad.

I drag my hand down to his jaw, my fingers in his soft beard. Owen’s breath hitches, and I trace down his neck, then lay my hand on his chest, where his heart beats against my palm.

“Do you want to hook up, Owen?”

Owen nods slowly. “Yes,” he says gently. “If you want that, too.”

Fuck, he’s hot. I can feel desire pouring off him. His shy, nervous energy is like electricity and even more enticing than usual with an actual orgy growing around us.

I feel like I’m unwrapping a present.

I hold Owen’s eye, drinking up his hazel like I’ve earned it. “I’ll tell you what I want,” I tell him. “I want to make you come all over yourself.”

He trembles, and my dick gets hard. “Okay,” he says, his voice almost breaking.

Dirty, dirty ideas fill my head. I’m going to replace that awful memory he has from the last time he had sex. The second I realize that, there’s no stopping me. But I’m not about to treat Owen like some random hookup, so I hold his gaze and make sure he hears me.

“I’m going to make you come all over yourself,” I tell him again. “And then I’m going to take you home, and tomorrow morning, I’ll make us breakfast, and we’ll talk about what we’re doing.”

And we’ll figure out how to talk to Reggie, I think, although I do him the favor of leaving his brother unmentioned at the moment.

Owen licks his lip, bites it softly, and then nods. “Okay,” he says.

I cock up half a grin. “Yeah? Okay?”

Owen laughs. “Yeah. If you really want to, I—”

Before he can get a chance to doubt himself, I take him in a kiss. My lips close over his, and Owen gasps, quivering. I shove my fingers into his hair and pull him closer. He opens his mouth to me, and when I push my tongue to his, Owen pushes back, groaning against me.

“Fuck,” he gasps. He presses his hands to my chest and kisses me harder. “Oh, fuck.”

I take him by the hip and push my forehead against his. His body moves naturally with mine, and heat surges from my core, the drive to take him rising.

“Oh shit,” Owen says. He pulls back a little. “Shit. I don’t actually think I can have sex in front of a bunch of people.” He rubs his hand over his face. “I know what I said, but I’m not really prepared.”

“No problem.” I tighten my grip on his hip. “Just tell me where you want to go.”

“I’m not sure.” He’s grinning, excited, and I love that. “Too bad there aren’t private rooms here. It would be hot.” He looks down, a little shy again. “Maybe your place, I guess?”

There aren’t private rooms, but I usually don’t let a thing like that stop me.

I’m supposed to be laying low. I’m not supposed to get up to any of my bullshit right now, but when I decide I want something, I’m not the most reasonable man.

“Do you mind stepping to the side?” I ask Owen.

He raises an eyebrow, but steps sideways. There’s a chair behind him, and I push it to the window, where thick black curtains hang.

Smoothly, I step onto the chair, get my hands up on the top of the curtain, and give the rod a tug. It pops easily loose, and Owen lets out a surprised “Oh!” when I pull the heavy pleated curtain off.

I step down, the curtain in my arms. “Right over here should work.”

A few people are staring at us, but that’s part of the fun, and the party offers more than enough distractions already. I walk to the corner, where I spot an empty bed, then bend at my knees to give it a big shove, pushing it tight to the wall.

“Oh my god,” Owen says, running up to me and laughing. “What are you doing?”

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