Page 80 of Filthy Sweet

“You’re mine, Owen,” he whispers. “You’re mine.”

“You’re mine,” I whisper back. “You’re for me, Fox Wilder.”

Epilogue

Fox

One year later

“Excuse me, sir?”

I turn from my spot at the quiet hotel bar and spot Owen there. The dim light casts a shadow over his troubled features. He leans against the bar, pushing his weight toward me.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he purrs. “Are you alone?”

I take a slow, performative sip of bourbon, wincing as I swallow it down. “Can I help you?”

Owen pushes his body a little closer to mine. He’s wearing a plain white collared shirt, and he loosely undoes the top button. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m staying at the hotel here, and I’ve somehow locked myself out of my room. I don’t have my key or my wallet or anything.”

I swivel on the stool and open my legs to him. “Sorry,” I say gruffly. “Can’t help.”

“Sir,” Owen says, pleading, and lays his hand on my arm, caressing the black leather jacket I’m wearing. “Please.”

“Got a date tonight,” I tell him. “And unless you’re going to put on a lingerie show like this pretty lady, I don’t have time for you.”

Owen sucks in a sharp breath and pushes his body a little closer. “What if I told you I was wearing sheer white panties with a pretty little bow right now?”

I scoff and stand, furrowing my brow. “I wouldn’t believe you,” I say and turn to walk away, grinning to myself. I stalk toward the lobby, not looking back until Owen grabs my elbow.

“Please, sir,” he whispers, begging. “My panties—”

Before he can finish the sentence, he loses it, erupting in laughter. “Oh god,” he says laughing hard. “Sorry.”

I chuckle along with him. “Don’t be.” I swipe my thumb over his lip, feeling his smile. “It’s cute when you break character.”

Owen takes his glasses off and wipes his eyes, then shoots me a sassy grin. “Please, sir,” he whimpers, then glances around as he pulls me behind an oversized fig plant. When he confirms that there’s no one coming, he grabs my hand and shoves it down his pants. His erection stretches the panties I bought him last week, and he rubs his wet crown against the palm of my hand, needy. “I swear I’ll make it worth your time.”

I growl and grab his erection, then pull my hand back. “You’re horny,” I say, scolding him and playing hard to get, although it’s actually incredibly fucking difficult to not just take him right now in the bar bathroom. “And desperate.”

I start walking away, heading slowly toward our ultimate destination, the car I’ve stashed in an empty corner of a parking garage nearby. Owen runs after me, whimpering, a sound that always makes me leak. “Why are you so mean?”

I walk out onto the street. It’s the middle of the day in downtown Seattle, and people pass, hurrying in either direction.

With an abrupt turn, I grab Owen by the waist and hitch him close. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Who are you?” Owen asks, his voice timid.

“I’m Jack Tampa, the owner of Tampa Unlimited.”

Owen gasps.

“That’s right. You’re in town to interview for a job at my company,” I growl, then hitch him closer, rubbing my erection against his as I press my lips to his ear. “And now I know you’re a panty-wearing slut.”

“Owen? Fox?”

Owen and I both slowly turn to find Reggie standing there, grinning at us.

“Whoa, you guys! I can’t believe it! What are you doing downtown?”

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