Owen: The Lost Breed MC #9

by Parker, Ali

  “We have what? Half an hour before the pizza is here?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Plenty of time for you to relax, put your feet up, and ice your bruises.”

  “We both know I can get the job done right and still have time left for icing.”

  I laughed and shook my head at him. “I’m not questioning your skills. I’m questioning if that sort of rigorous activity is going to make your injuries worse.”

  “I’m fine.”

  I looked him over skeptically. “Right. You look totally fine.”

  “See? What’s the problem?”

  “Owen, I—”

  He leaned into me and pressed a kiss to my lips. “You’re overthinking, Angel. I’m going to be fine. I promise. This shit? It’s just surface level. It’ll go away in a couple of days.”

  I studied him.

  He’d taken this beating because of me exposing him to Matthew. The least I could do was ease his aches and pains, right?

  “I have one condition,” I said.

  “Name it.”

  “You sit back and let me take the lead.”

  His eyebrows crept up to his hairline.

  “It’s non-negotiable,” I warned.

  Owen wrapped his arm around my waist and grabbed my hip. “Non-negotiable, huh? Should we lay down some ground rules?”

  “Ground rules? Weren’t you listening? You sit back. I lead.”

  “This sounds like a win-win for me.”

  “It is,” I assured him.

  “And if I break these terms?”

  “Then we stop.”

  He threw his head back and laughed.

  I scowled at him. “Why is that so funny?”

  Owen clutched at his bruised ribs as he tried to get his laughter under control, and I tried valiantly to continue scowling.

  But damn him, he was cute when he laughed like this.

  He shot me a look and broke eye contact when he started snickering again. “You think you could stop right in the middle? Just like that? Please. I know you, Angel. When I get your legs trembling like they do, there’s no stopping.”

  I licked my lips as my cheeks burned. “I think I have a little more willpower than that.”

  Owen leaned back on the sofa and hid his grimace as best he could as he undid his jeans. Then he shimmied them down his legs, gave me a daring glance, and patted his bare thighs. “Come here then. Show me what you’ve got.”

  A challenge. I liked that.

  I swung my leg over him and settled in his lap. I was wearing a skirt, so I shimmied it up to my waist so he could feel the bare skin of my thighs against his as I rocked gently back and forth, rubbing myself on his cock.

  He was already hard. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Owen was always hard by the time things got to this point. I loved that. It made me feel so desired and sexy.

  As I rolled my hips in his lap, I ran my hands down his bare chest, gingerly tracing the bruises forming on his flesh. He’d been beaten up pretty good, but nothing seemed to bother him as badly as his ribs, so I gave them a wide berth.

  Owen cupped my cheeks in his hands and pulled me into him for some sweet kisses. I was glad I’d cleaned the blood from the gash in his brow and his knuckles because he raked his fingers through my hair as he slipped his tongue between my teeth, and I sighed softly into his mouth as need began to burn inside me.

  He was right. Once things got started between us, I was incapable of stopping them.

  He did something to me that I couldn’t explain. While he made me feel safe, he also made me feel like I was walking on the edge of a very high cliff and I could fall at any second. Maybe that was what kept things so interesting. Maybe it was what made me so obsessed with him.

  He was an adventure.

  A wild ride with twists and turns and corners I couldn’t see around but couldn’t wait to explore with him.

  He was mine.

  Our kiss deepened, and I rocked myself forward as he gripped my bare ass under my skirt and squeezed. I giggled, and he smiled into our kiss, and then he ran his hand along my hip to tug my panties to the side so he could rub my pussy.

  A little bit of foreplay wasn’t going to hurt him.

  Right?

  I let him swirl his finger around my clit. And I still didn’t stop him when he traced my opening and eased a finger inside me.

  I reached down and ran my finger along the waistband of his boxers. Then I pulled him free and stroked his cock while he fucked me with his finger. We kissed the whole time, both of our heartbeats quickening and our breathing growing shorter.

  “Do you have a condom with you?” I whispered as I broke our kiss. I pressed my lips to his jaw and worked my way to his ear.

  “Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Front left pocket.”

  “Good,” I cooed before pinching his earlobe gently between my teeth.

  He sucked in a sharp breath and eased another finger inside me.

  I moaned and rocked my hips, riding his fingers as I trailed more kisses down his throat and across his chest. Then I slid off of him, pushed his knees apart, and knelt before him, still stroking his cock with one hand.

  I rested my elbows on his thighs and leaned in to swirl my tongue around the head of his cock.

  He draped his arms over the back of my sofa. I saw him grimace, but I didn’t say anything. He was a big boy. If he was in too much pain for me to suck him off, he could stop me.

  But I knew he wouldn’t.

  He wouldn’t stop me unless he was close to death.

  I smiled and ran my tongue down his length before slowly working my way back to the sensitive tip. He watched, his eyes glued to me as I put on a show for him and teased him. I was going to make him wait for it. It was half the fun.

  When I was good and ready, I took him in my mouth and eased the first few inches in along my tongue. I sealed my lips around his thickness and kept going, drawing him in deep and relishing in the feeling of his cock hitting the back of my throat.

  He let out a soft moan that encouraged me to take more of him.

  I worked him over slow and steady. Each long stroke turned me on more and more, and as I watched, Owen became more relaxed. He hung his head back, facing the ceiling, and closed his eyes as I worshipped his cock.

  I would have been content to suck him off until he was finished and called it a night.

  But he would have punished me for it.

  So I straightened up, got to my feet, and began putting on a show for him.

  I started by pulling my shirt off over my head and letting it dangle from the tips of my fingers before letting it fall to the floor. Owen watched me like it was the first time he’d ever seen a woman get naked.

  I loved it.

  I worked my skirt down my legs, popping my hips out from one side to the other to create dramatic curves with my body. As I stepped out of the skirt, I turned around and put my back to him.

  When I unclipped my bra, I looked over my shoulder at him and gave him a seductive smile before tossing the bra aside to join the rest of my clothes on the floor. I was left standing in my white lace thong, which I began slowly drawing down my hips and the length of my thighs.

  When I reached my knees, I was bent over in front of him.

  My ass was in the air, and my pussy was on display, and I showed him just how flexible I was as I took the panties to the floor.

  “Get your ass over here,” he growled.

  I clicked my tongue at him as I straightened up. “You’re not in charge tonight. I am.”

  He let out a strained moan as I continued displaying my body for him. I arched my spine, reached my hands over my head, and sank my fingers into my hair. Then I rolled my hips from side to side and turned toward him, cupping my breasts and pushing them together as I stood just out of his reach.

  “You’re cruel,” he grated.

  “Am I?”

  Owen nodded. His jaw was tight, his gaze was dark, and his cock was hard and ready for me to ride hi
m.

  I bent down and went through his pants pockets until I found a condom. Then I opened it, stepped in close, and rolled it on for him.

  Owen reached for me, and I turned around, put a hand on each of his knees, and sat down on his cock.

  I took him one slow inch at a time. I knew he’d appreciate the view, so I kept my back arched as I took all of him and then started bouncing on his cock. Owen didn’t know what to do with himself. He wasn’t used to being the one sitting back. And I enjoyed having the control.

  I enjoyed having him in the palm of my hand.

  I quickened my speed and rode him like that until my thighs started to burn, and then I turned around and straddled him. I slid him back inside me and rocked my hips slowly, grinding and rocking and relishing in the pressure of his cock pressing against the walls of my pussy.

  Owen, always the rule breaker, reached down and rubbed my clit as I fucked him.

  I didn’t have it in me to tell him to stop. It felt way too fucking good.

  I rode him for all he was worth and leaned back so I could grind my hips with my hands resting atop his knees. He pressed down on my clit with his thumb, and I closed my eyes as the pressure built and my climax mounted until I was at my breaking point.

  Then Owen rocked his hips upward, driving deep inside me, and I let out a surprised yelp as his cock hit that perfect spot. He held my hips and continued bucking beneath me until I descended into delirious pleasure and fought to catch my breath through my desperate moans and sighs as I climaxed.

  Owen pulled me in close when I was done.

  My breasts were crushed against his chest as he rocked his hips slowly. I clung to him and pressed my cheek to his, closing my eyes as he gripped my ass and spread my cheeks to push deeper inside me.

  I tried to whisper to him that he was breaking the rules.

  But the words wouldn’t come.

  It all felt too good.

  I smothered him with kisses instead, working my way along his cheek and jaw, down his neck, across his collarbone, and along the swell of his chest. When I returned to kiss his lips, his breath shook, and I knew it was taking all the self-control he possessed not to give in.

  I plunged my fingers into his hair. “Come for me, baby.”

  He gritted his teeth.

  “Don’t fight it,” I whispered, stroking his cheek and then planting soft kisses upon his lips.

  He finally gave in, and he held me while his climax broke over him.

  Then we made out until there was a knock on my door.

  I leapt off of him and pressed my hands to my forehead. “Shit! I forgot we ordered pizza! Just a minute!” I hollered toward the front door. Then I scrambled to pull my skirt and shirt back on and ran my fingers through my hair to try to smooth the wild flyaways. “Do I look like a floozy?”

  Owen shrugged.

  “You’re supposed to say no!”

  He chuckled. “You look sexy. That’s all I can say. And if I wasn’t in this state, I’d get the door on your behalf. But,” he gestured down at himself, bruised and naked and still hot as hell, “I’m a mess.”

  I bit my bottom lip.

  A perfect mess.

  Chapter 29

  Owen

  Two Weeks Later

  Evangeline was half buried in her closet as she tried to find the right shoes to go with her evening gown for the gala we were already twenty minutes late for. When she stumbled out, she had them dangling from her fingertips, and she hurried over to where I stood, holding her dress so that it wasn’t dragging on the floor.

  She sat on the edge of her bed, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties and a strapless black bra, and put her shoes on. Then she popped back up to her feet and had me hold the dress up over her head so she could slip into it.

  Then I set to work zipping her up.

  She looked over her shoulder at me as I drew the zipper up the middle of her back and secured the little clasp at the top. “Nobody is going to say anything about the bruises.”

  I’d been a bit worried all day about the fact that the bruises on my face from my run-in two weeks ago with Matthew and the Wright brothers hadn’t fully healed yet. My jaw was still a disgusting shade of yellow, and the cut in my eyebrow had scabbed over.

  It looked pretty horrifying.

  And the people at the gala event tonight were definitely going to notice.

  “They may not say anything, but they’ll think it,” I muttered. “Are you sure you want me coming with you?”

  She turned to me. “Of course I am. I promise. I want you there with me.”

  I nodded. “All right.”

  She gave me a kiss and stood back. “So? How do I look?”

  The shoes she’d been hellbent on wearing, which took her almost ten minutes to find, couldn’t even be seen under the long skirt of her sea-green gown. When she moved and it caught the light, it shimmered and turned dazzling shades of turquoise and royal blue. It was a magnificent gown, but it had nothing on the beauty of the girl wearing it.

  Her hair was curled and pinned up, secured with pins and clips that were no longer visible. She wore long crystal earrings but no necklace. Her makeup was elegant and striking with shades of champagne and gold, thin eyeliner, and fuchsia lips.

  “You look incredible,” I told her.

  “So do you.” She grabbed my tie and pulled me in for one last kiss. “Now let’s get the hell out of here. The limo has been waiting on us.”

  “Us? You’re the one holding us back, gorgeous, not me.”

  “Get used to it.” She winked.

  We arrived at the gala forty-five minutes late, which wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be. We got lucky with traffic, and when we stepped out of the limo and onto the curb, Evangeline and I hooked our elbows together to walk across the red carpet that had been laid down across the path that led to the front doors of the swanky hotel.

  The lobby was decorated with gold embellishments, and a harpist played in the corner.

  “This is going to be even fancier than the last one I went to, isn’t it?” I muttered in Evangeline’s ear.

  She nodded and smiled at those who turned to look at us. “Yes. It most certainly is.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “I thought the black and white suit would tip you off.”

  “Nope. Not even a little bit.”

  She flashed me a radiant smile that made my knees weak. “You still have so much to learn.”

  I didn’t doubt it.

  Evangeline’s lifestyle was a hell of a lot different than mine, and we had both decided that we weren’t going to let that stand in our way. We completed each other, and we got to have our toes in the best of both worlds: fast bikes and cars and high-society fundraisers.

  I could have done without the glamorous nights like this, but it was well worth it to have Evangeline on my arm.

  We passed under the archway of a grand entrance and stepped into the ballroom where the event was being held. Had Evangeline not been leading the way, I would have stopped in my tracks to admire the splendor of it all.

  This place was unreal.

  It was at least ten times swankier than the last gala I’d been to.

  Sheer white drapes were strewn across the ceiling, and from the middle hung a massive, twinkling, elegant chandelier that must have had a price tag that would make my eyes pop out of my skull. It cast shimmering light on the dozens upon dozens of round tables down below, which were covered in sparkly gold tablecloths.

  “Is it fucking New Years in here or something?” I whispered in Evangeline’s ear.

  “No. This gala is put on by Anne Patton. She loves glitz and glam and spares no expense when she hosts. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “It’s something,” I said, not sure if the word “beautiful” encompassed how I felt about the extravagant decor.

  The centerpieces were massive towers of gold, topped with white and blush-pink roses. Each table was set with gol
d plates and matching cutlery resting upon white napkins. Champagne buckets sat on each table, ready to be poured into the crystal wine glasses at each place setting.

  In the middle of the room beneath the chandelier was a stage with a microphone. The skirt around the stage was the same fluttering gold as the tablecloths, and the whole place had a cohesive vibe. It was overdone, yes, but I couldn’t deny that whoever had styled it knew what the hell they were doing.

  Evangeline pointed across the room toward the bar. “Do you see that girl there? The blonde in the blue dress? That’s my best friend.”

  Victoria. I’d heard a lot about her. I’d especially heard that she had no filter and said whatever was on her mind. I’d been warned that she might say some inappropriate things about me or my MC, and I assured Evangeline I would be on my best behavior and her opinions would not ruffle my feathers.

  “I’m going to go grab a glass of wine and bring her over. Would you like a drink?” Evangeline gazed up at me with those beautiful blue eyes of hers.

  “I’m all right for now. I’ll have a glass of wine with dinner.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive,” I said.

  She gave me a kiss, not caring who was looking—which was everyone within our general vicinity—and then she picked up the hem of her gown and hurried along between the tables to meet Victoria at the bar.

  I tried to look cool standing there by myself, but I was woefully aware of how much I did not blend in.

  People were talking. Well, not talking. They were whispering. No doubt about my bruises.

  I didn’t have to stand by myself for long. A man stepped up beside me and cleared his throat. “Good evening, Owen.”

  I glanced to my right and balked at Frank Snow, Evangeline’s father. “Frank.” I nodded. I had never, and would never, call him Mr. Snow. If he’d shown me some respect back in the day, I might have considered it, but the time for niceties had passed.

  He didn’t say anything for a while. I slid my hands in my pockets and waited as he sipped his champagne. Then he nodded at Evangeline across the room by the bar. “She’s radiant tonight.”

  “She is,” I agreed.