Owen: The Lost Breed MC #9

by Parker, Ali

  Evangeline looked up at me as she massaged her feet and arched an eyebrow. “I’m surprised it took you so long.”

  I patted my lap as I leaned back against my seat. She made to sit on me, but I shook my head. “Sit back. Get comfy. And put your feet up.”

  She eyed me suspiciously but did as I said, kicking her feet up to rest her heels on my thigh as she rested in the corner of the back of the seat and the side of the limo.

  Evangeline had cute feet. I massaged them one at a time, applying pressure to the arch and the balls of her feet and then pinching her ankles between my thumb and forefinger and gentle rolling over the tendon there.

  She smiled at me. “I should bring you everywhere with me just for this.”

  “I’d go anywhere with you for this.”

  Evangeline ran her fingers through her hair, shaking out her curls, and let them fall over her shoulder. “You’ve always been too sweet to me, Owen.”

  “You deserve it,” I said softly, running a hand up her calf and under her dress as I worked it along the side of her thigh and climbed on top of her. I had to plant one foot on the floor of the limo and rest my knee on the seat to maintain my balance as I leaned over her.

  She stared up at me with a sexy little smile playing on her lips.

  “What are you thinking about?” I asked.

  “You.”

  “Stop thinking,” I purred, leaning in to kiss her cheek and working my way to her neck. I pressed my lips to the soft skin by her ear. “Let me take care of you.”

  She quivered beneath me and ran her hands up my chest and over the lapel of my jacket. Then she pulled me down to her and sealed her lips over mine with a kiss that was warm and soft and tasted faintly of white wine.

  I worked my hand higher up inside her dress and gripped her thigh tightly. Her supple flesh melted into my palm, and I let out a hungry growl that was muffled by our kiss.

  Chapter 18

  Evangeline

  My senses were overwhelmed by all things Owen.

  His cedar and bergamot cologne.

  His hands on my bare legs.

  His hot breath on my neck as he nudged my cheek to the side to press soft kisses to my throat.

  The sounds of his stubble whispering against my cheek.

  The lingering taste of rum on his tongue.

  All the troubles of the evening faded to the background. The anger in the pit of my stomach toward Matthew dissolved and morphed into something warm and eager as Owen’s strong and hungry hand slid under my thigh and cupped my ass.

  I giggled, remembering how obsessed he’d been with my ass when we were young. Whenever we were alone, he used to put a hand on my rear end. Sometimes, he’d slide it in the back pocket of my jeans if I’d let him.

  I almost always did.

  Owen ran his hand over the groove of my hip. I hooked an arm around his shoulders and wove my fingers up into his hair, curling them into a fist and holding on as his touches grew closer and closer to my aching pussy.

  I’d been thinking about this all night.

  Sure, I’d kept my eye on the prize, which was the speech I had to deliver on my father’s behalf, but in the back of my mind, all I’d been mulling over was how badly I wanted him to touch me. How badly I needed him to touch me. Once a man like Owen teased you, there was no turning off the arousal until you were satisfied.

  And I trusted him to satisfy me.

  All damn night long.

  He grazed my clit with his fingers, and I sucked in a breath.

  He chuckled softly into our kiss and pulled away a couple of inches. “Have you been wet all night, Angel?”

  I nodded and tried to speak, but no words came. I was caught up in the glint of his green eyes and the way they glowed every time we passed under a street light. He was gorgeous. There was no other word for it.

  Sure, Owen wasn’t the typical sort of handsome most girls went for. He didn’t have the symmetrical face or the straight nose or the perfectly groomed facial hair.

  But what he had to offer was so much more than that. He had a strong jawline. A jawline a girl like me dreams about running her fingers over night after night. And his nose, despite its crooked little zig-zag from being broken so many times, spoke of his rough life and how willing he was to put it all on the line and fight for what he believed in. What he wanted.

  And right now, what he wanted was me.

  There was no bigger turn on in the world than that.

  His eyes were hooded by a heavy brow that made him look like he was in a constant state of brooding, and his lips, soft and curled up in that classic devilish smile of his, were the most kissable lips I’d ever laid eyes on.

  Owen stroked my cheek with his free hand while he rubbed my clit in slow circles with the other. He held my gaze and eased a finger inside me.

  I closed my eyes, clenched my jaw, and let out a moan that I desperately wished I could have held on to.

  Poor driver. I hoped he couldn’t hear us back here. He’d had a long enough night as it was.

  “Don’t fight it, baby,” Owen purred.

  “The driver,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out as he slid his finger in and out of my wet, swollen pussy.

  “Who cares about the driver? I’ve been waiting all night for this. He only has to endure us for another five minutes. Then you’re all mine.”

  His words set my veins on fire.

  He slid another thick digit inside me.

  “Owen,” I whimpered, gripping his shoulder and rolling my hips involuntarily.

  “Yes, Angel?”

  I bit my bottom lip and stared into his eyes. “Make me come.”

  Owen’s eyes darkened with lust. And there was no going back from there. The driver be damned.

  Hell, the cars parked beside us every time we stopped at a red light probably knew what was going on in the back of the limo as Owen braced himself on the door panel above my head and fucked me hard and deep with his fingers. He pressed his thumb to my clit and watched me as I gasped and moaned beneath him, writhing powerlessly under his touch.

  He growled above me when my legs started to tremble.

  Then I gripped the wrist of the hand above me against the door and let out a short cry as my body gave in to the orgasm that had been just out of reach. It broke over me with force, and I clung to him as Owen bowed over me, worshipping my neck with sweet kisses and nibbles as I came.

  When we turned onto my street, Owen sat up and pulled me up with him. I hurried to straighten out my dress and tugged it down to fall back down my legs, covering my nakedness as the limo slowed and pulled over to the curb.

  I struggled with the straps of my shoes, so Owen bent over and did them up for me while I fanned my cheeks and tried to catch my breath.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” I muttered.

  “You look sexy.”

  “I probably have bedhead. And my cheeks are on fire.”

  “Exactly. Sexy.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “He’s going to think we had sex back here.”

  “Yeah, probably.”

  I gave him a deadpan stare as the limo slowed to a stop. “You’re supposed to reassure me.”

  “You mean lie?”

  “No, just tell me my face isn’t red, and I don’t look like a floozy.”

  Owen laughed. “Your cheeks aren’t that red. You don’t look like a floozy. Better?”

  I pouted. “No.”

  He finished doing up my shoes and squeezed my knee. “It doesn’t matter. He probably heard you back here anyway.”

  “Oh God,” I mumbled, burying my face in my hand as I heard the driver open his door and get out.

  Owen slid across the seat and popped open the back door. “I’ll take care of it.” He got smoothly to his feet outside the limo and stood outside the door to speak to the driver. “I’ve got it from here, man. Thanks.”

  The driver said something I couldn’t understand, and Owen waited a beat, and then the drive
r got back in the front seat. Owen bent over and offered me his hand. “Come on, Angel.”

  I smiled, took his hand, and got out of the car. He guided me up onto the sidewalk, mindful of the long skirt of my dress and the perilous height of my shoes, and then he offered me his elbow, and we walked up the stairs to the front doors and then across the lobby.

  The night shift concierge was standing behind the desk near the elevators. He nodded in greeting before returning his eyes to the computer in front of him.

  Owen and I went to the elevators and rode them up to my floor.

  “Thanks for sparing me the embarrassment back there,” I whispered.

  “Anytime.”

  The doors slid open with a soft chime, and we spilled out and hurried to my front door. I slid my key in the lock, and by the time I managed to push the door open, Owen was already gathering me up in his arms.

  I giggled hysterically as he kicked the door closed behind him and carried me across my suite liked my weight was nothing to him.

  It probably wasn’t. I’d seen all the muscle he hid under his shirts. He was a powerhouse.

  My powerhouse.

  He turned sideways to step through the doorframe to my bedroom, so as not to decapitate me and set me down on the floor near the edge of my bed. He turned me around so that my back was toward him, drew my hair over one shoulder, and gently pulled the zipper down the back of my gown before sliding the sleeves off my shoulders.

  The silky fabric fell to gather around my hips. With a soft tug, he sent it to the floor, and I stepped out of my gown completely naked. It was the sort of dress that didn’t have any room for a bra.

  I began undressing Owen. I started by pulling his jacket off and then undoing the buttons of his midnight-blue shirt, exposing more and more swollen chest and abs with every button. When I reached the bottom, I untucked his shirt, popped open his belt, and then undid his fly.

  He shrugged out of his shirt. It joined my dress on the floor. Then he jerked his pants and boxers down and stepped out of those, too, and we both faced each other, our chests rising and falling with each rapid breath.

  Then he moved in on me like a predatory animal, sweeping me up in his arms and moving us around the side of the bed to where my nightstand was. He pinned me to the wall between the nightstand and the window, using his body as a barricade, and began planting little kisses along my neck and breasts.

  “Don’t move,” he said, his voice hoarse, and then he leaned over and opened my nightstand drawer to pluck a condom from the small box in the right corner. He tore the wrapper open with his teeth and rolled the condom on.

  His cock was hard and pressed to my hip when he closed in on me again. I waited impatiently, my breath hitching in my throat as he grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head against the wall with one hand.

  He silenced my protest with a kiss. His tongue slipped between my teeth and explored my mouth ravenously as I was forced to the tips of my toes.

  I whimpered into his mouth, and he leaned his hips toward me to slide his cock between my thighs. He teased me, and I rolled my hips, trying to lean into him, but it was impossible. He held me in place until he was ready to succumb to his own needs.

  He took his cock in one hand and guided his length up, sliding it into my wet pussy.

  Pleasure rippled through me, and my toes curled in the plush white rug that covered the space under and around my bed.

  Owen rocked his hips slowly.

  My breath whispered out between my parted lips as he cupped my face with his free hand and rested his forehead against mine.

  He quickened his pace just a bit.

  I licked my lips, closed my eyes, and reveled in the sound of his breathing in my ears. Of the pressure of his hands gripping my wrists. Of every thrust sliding in and out of me.

  I tightened my fingers into fists, and my nails bit into my palms.

  Owen ran his thumb along my bottom lip. I let him trace my teeth before taking his thumb into my mouth and sucking gently. He pressed down on my tongue as he quickened his speed, and my eyes fluttered open as he groaned in ecstasy.

  His head was bowed. His hair was a mess from me running my fingers through it, and it hung in front of his eyes. He was cast in shadow, but the moonlight danced over his muscles, and the sight of him pushed me over the edge.

  “Yes,” I pleaded. But my words were muffled by his thumb in my mouth.

  His hold on my wrists tightened, and I strained against him as my climax grew inside me like a filling well about to brim over.

  My moans were louder, and my breathing was ragged, and I could barely keep it together. I shifted my weight on my toes as my knees buckled and my legs quivered, but he held me in place and fucked me harder until I lost all sense of who I was and gave in to the desire to scream his name at the ceiling as I came.

  It sent him spiraling, too.

  We came together, and when he was done, he released my wrists but held me up, knowing how unsteady I was on my feet after an orgasm like that. He guided me to my bed, and we both toppled onto it, rolling onto our backs and breathing heavily at the ceiling.

  Neither of us said anything. There was nothing to say.

  But I was full of a sense of peace.

  And gratitude.

  If Owen hadn’t caught up to us on the sidewalk that night, I would have gone home with Matthew tonight. And I would have been none the wiser to his true self.

  I closed my eyes as a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

  Yes. I was a lucky girl.

  Chapter 19

  Owen

  It had been a long week.

  Not a bad one. Just a long one.

  I chalked it up to the fact that I hadn’t seen Evangeline since the blissful morning after the gala last weekend. Her schedule for the last six days was jampacked with commitments she couldn’t break for her father’s company, and to her best friend Victoria, and I wasn’t going to be the needy guy who expected her to change her plans just to spend more time with me.

  Although selfishly, I wished she would.

  We’d made time to call each other every second day just to catch up. It was a bit odd, and it sort of made me feel like I was back in high school. Back then, I used to call the girl I liked every damn night, and we’d talk for hours.

  Or until her father caught her holding up the line and got angry and made her hang up.

  There were actually quite a few things about being with Evangeline that reminded me of being in high school.

  The anxious butterflies in my gut that I had before I saw her. One would think the feeling would go away after a couple of dates, but it wasn’t. It was still there, relentlessly reminding me of how flustered she made me.

  And then there were the physical things. Hard-ons every time I saw her or thought of her. Sweaty palms. Prickling skin. Shortness of breath.

  If she knew what she did to me, she would think me a horndog. Hell, I thought that myself.

  But I was powerless to how she made me feel. And what was more, I didn’t really want it to stop. The adrenaline felt good, and the payoff of being with her was always satisfying.

  I’d been hopeful that we would be able to get together for a little while at some point today, but she’d called me this morning to apologize and give me the heads-up that she wasn’t going to be able to step away from her work.

  So I was flying solo.

  But I didn’t want to be alone because all I would do was think of her, and time would pass by at an agonizingly slow rate. So I called Liam up and asked if he was up for a ride and stopping someplace new for lunch outside the city. If we could put a couple of hours of pavement behind us, we had a good track record of finding cool local bars to grab a cold beer and a burger at.

  He agreed and was on his way over.

  I also gave Rhys a ring. He answered on the second ring. “What’s up, Owen?”

  “You got plans today? Liam and I are hitting the road. You and Quinn want to join?�
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  Rhys groaned. “I wish. Today doesn’t work for us, man.”

  “You have better things to do?”

  “I don’t know if ‘better’ is the right word.”

  I chuckled. “What does she have you working on now?”

  “We’re painting my living room.”

  Quinn had wanted to paint the living room ever since she moved in with Rhys almost a year ago. She hated the terracotta color that it was now, and I couldn’t blame her. It looked outdated, and it clashed with all the new soft-gray furniture she’d brought with her when she moved in. She had good taste and style, where Rhys was content to use whatever he had. Like most men.

  “She deserves a room that makes her happy to be in,” I said.

  “Oh, believe me. I know,” Rhys said. “And she’ll get off my back about it.”

  I laughed. “All right. Well, I’d offer to come help, but fuck that. Painting is a bitch. Have fun. Liam and I will have a beer on your behalf.”

  “Fuck you too, man.”

  We were both still laughing when I hung up the phone.

  The rest of the late morning was spent aimlessly waiting for Liam to show up. I heard his bike pull into the drive just after ten-thirty, and I went into the garage, opened the door, and plucked my leather jacket from the hook beside the workbench.

  Liam ducked under the still opening garage door. “Ready to go, man? It’s a perfect day out there. A bit cold, but hell, I like a bit of bite in the air when I ride.”

  I fished my leather riding gloves out of the pocket of my jacket and pulled them on. “I’m ready. Where are we heading?”

  “Doesn’t matter to me. North?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged.

  Then I got on my bike, and he went back out onto the drive to get on his. I rolled out onto the driveway, closed the garage door behind me, and tightened the chin strap under my helmet before turning the bike on and revving the engine.

  Liam gave me a thumbs-up, and when I returned it, he opened up on the throttle of his bike and swung out onto the street. I followed, and the rumble of our bikes was music to my ears as we cruised down the residential street toward the interstate to take us out of the city limits so we could hit some real speeds.