Firefly Hollow

by Haddix, T. L.

  “Is this where you write?”

  “No. This is where I research. I write upstairs. Want to see?”

  “Please.” Sarah followed him past the kitchen to a set of stairs set against the back wall.

  “Half-bath back there and the washer,” he said, pointing past the stairs. “Side door goes out to the patio.”

  The stairs were lit by tall windows set high into the wall. When they reached the upstairs hallway, Sarah could see out the windows and into the treetops beyond.

  Owen directed her down the hall, which was lined with more bookshelves. “Full bath here, complete with tub and shower.”

  Sarah glanced in the room he indicated. Past the bathroom, the floor opened up into his bedroom. To her right was a door that went out onto a balcony. The bed was straight ahead and seemed to stretch halfway across the room. At its foot, on the opposite wall, was another fireplace. Beyond the bed, the room went on a good fifteen feet or so. A dividing screen separated the sleeping area from the work area.

  Sarah approached his studio with reverence. “So this is it, where you make the magic.”

  Owen gave her a brief smile. “Yes.” Low cabinets formed a U-shape around the outer walls. Most were less than three feet tall, but the cabinets to her left were taller. On the right, they were interrupted by a drafting table. The center of the area was occupied by a round table, and several sketches were laid out on its surface.

  Walking to the bank of windows that looked out over the front of the house and the kitchen garden, Sarah turned and caught Owen watching her. She smiled sheepishly. “It’s not like I pictured it.”

  “How’d you picture it?”

  “More like a rustic cabin, I guess. But it’s very modern, very sleek.”

  He stepped over to the table and straightened the drawings. “Are you disappointed?”

  She shook her head. “No. Where does the door go?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  Stopping only to toss her bag on the bed, Sarah followed him. He unlocked the inside door and the screen door, and stood back for her to precede him. The door opened onto a large deck, which overlooked a slate-rock patio. The view was breathtaking, unobstructed by trees.

  “You really can see for miles from up here,” Sarah breathed. “I don’t see how you can bear to tear yourself away from it.”

  Owen’s hand trailed down from her shoulder to her waist. “There’s more.”

  Turning, Sarah saw a set of stairs that seemed to vanish into the roof. Eager to see where they led, she crossed the deck. “Oh, this is incredible.” Stunned, she looked back at Owen, who was climbing the stairs slower than she had.

  Carved out of the roof was an area with low walls. The surface was flat, and even though the roof was all around them, it didn’t interfere with the view. Sarah felt as if she were on top of the world. “What is this place?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I like astronomy. This is where I come to stargaze.”

  Sarah was astonished by how much the house spoke to her. It felt like a sanctuary, and she could see why it brought Owen such peace. “You’ve built yourself an aerie up here on top of the mountain.”

  His mouth tightened. “I’ve been hiding up here, rejecting the world. Don’t romanticize it; it’s nothing but cowardice.”

  “Owen. Don’t say that.” Sarah moved to touch him, but he backed up a step.

  “Let’s go back downstairs. We need to start this talk we’ve been putting off.”

  She followed without protest, but when he started for the hallway and the stairs, she stopped him. “I’d prefer to stay up here.”

  His shoulders stiffened, and he faced her with a scowl. “Why?”

  Gathering her courage, Sarah took his hands. “Do you love me?”

  Owen swallowed. “More than anything.”

  “And you want to be with me?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “And do you give me your word that you’ll never again do what you’ve done these last few weeks? No matter what, you’ll always stay in touch? Even if you’re angry with me?”

  “Yes,” he whispered. “Sarah—”

  Pressing two fingers across his lips, Sarah raised onto her tiptoes. “Shh, Owen.” Sliding her fingers away, she replaced them with her lips.

  A few seconds later, Owen took over the kiss she’d initiated. He clamped her against him, his arms like a vise, and kissed her as if he were starving for the taste of her. Sarah met him at every turn.

  Owen’s hands seemed to be everywhere at once, and still, he wasn’t touching her enough. Sarah moaned against his mouth, wanting more. She let her head fall back, and when his hot mouth moved down to the base of her throat, she gasped.

  She fought to get her hands under the hem of his shirt, and once she had, she jerked up the fabric. “Off. This needs to come off.”

  Owen pulled back, his eyes hooded and hot with arousal. “Sarah, we should stop now.”

  Even as he said the words, she was shaking her head. She looked straight into his eyes. “No. I don’t want to stop. I want to keep going. Show me, please. Show me everything.”

  His eyes widened. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why now? There are things we need to discuss, important things I need to tell you.”

  “I buried my niece and nephew today, Owen. I know we need to talk, and I promise you, we will. But right now, I want to be with you. All the way, in every way. I want to be with you. If that isn’t what you want, then I’ll go. I don’t want to pressure you.”

  He stood, head bowed, hands clenched at his sides. Sarah started to think he was going to say no, but then he groaned. He took a step, bringing them so close together she could feel the heat radiating off him. “If we do this, there’s no going back. We’ll be married this week. This is permanent. Is that what you want?”

  “Yes. Yes. More than anything.”

  He searched her eyes. Finally, to Sarah’s relief, he seemed to see what he wanted. Moving slowly, he drew her to him and undid her ponytail. As her hair swished around her shoulders, Owen tugged her shirt over her head, then undid the clasp of her bra. He fumbled a bit, but managed to slide it off her shoulders. Tossing the garment aside, he moved his hands lower. He eased off her shorts, then her panties. Sarah kicked them both aside and stood naked in front of him, unashamed.

  He didn’t touch her at first, only with his eyes. Stepping back, Sarah let him look his fill. His gaze lingered on her breasts, on the juncture of her thighs, and every place his eyes stopped, heat followed. If he didn’t put his hands on her, and soon, Sarah thought she might go mad.

  When he did move, it was to remove his loosened tie. Not taking his eyes from hers, he unbuttoned his dress shirt. Sarah bit her lip, watching as the T-shirt underneath was revealed. He shrugged out of the shirt and jacket, then shucked his T-shirt. He held out his hand, and Sarah took it.

  Sliding his free hand into her hair, Owen brushed his lips across hers once, twice, three times, then gently deepened the kiss. His kiss was reverent, full of emotion as well as heat. Sarah’s arms went around his neck, bringing the skin of his chest into direct contact with her tightened nipples. They both hissed at the sensation.

  “I love you so much, Sarah Jane Browning. I hope you know that,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “I do. I really do.”

  The kiss escalated into a white-hot need, and they were both breathing hard by the time Owen lifted his mouth from hers.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he rasped. Hands on her hips, he lifted her, bringing her even closer to him. One hand slid up her spine, and Sarah leaned in and kissed him again, needing to feel his mouth on hers. The kiss was raw, open-mouthed, and breathy, and the low moans that echoed around
the room were the most erotic sounds she had ever heard.

  Owen took three quick steps toward the bed. He rested his knee on the edge of the mattress and whispered, “Hold on.” Tightening his arm around her back, he used his other arm to lower her to the bed. He followed her down, resting his body on top of hers.

  His weight pressing her into the mattress, especially where her hips cradled his, sent shivers up Sarah’s spine. With her legs around his waist, she was open against the hardness in his pants, and she moved reflexively against him with a low moan.

  “You’re not naked enough,” she said as she reached down and hooked her fingers in the waistband of his slacks. “Take these off.” Her fingertips brushed against the head of his erection, and Owen jerked in response.

  “Woman, you are dangerous.” Drawing back, he undid the button and zipper and stood to let the pants fall. In seconds, his weight was back, and Sarah cried out from the pleasure of feeling him fully against her.

  “I brought the condoms,” she confessed as he kissed his way across her shoulder to her neck.

  Owen stilled against her and raised his head. “Where are they?”

  “My bag.”

  Reaching out, he snagged one of the bag’s straps and pulled it closer. With one hand, he rummaged through it and found the box. He moved the bag off the bed and sat up to open the box.

  “I didn’t get a chance to buy any. Thank God you remembered because I don’t think I could stop now.” He removed a condom packet, the vinegar, and a sponge, and set the box aside. “Do you know how to use these?”

  Sarah moved so that she was lying on her side. “I read the instructions. And I’ve practiced with the condoms.” She blushed. Somehow, she thought, glancing down at his erection, she figured the real-life application would be a little different from the bananas she’d used for practice. “Do you know how to use the sponges?”

  Owen hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “It’s done. In the past. Let’s leave it there, okay?”

  He pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “Okay.” Handing her the condom, he uncapped the vinegar. “Ready for this?”

  “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

  He readied the sponge, then set the vinegar aside. “Lie back, and let your legs fall apart.”

  Nervous for the first time since she’d kissed him, Sarah did as he instructed. When Owen bent and kissed her softly, she relaxed a little. His mouth moved from hers, trailing down her neck to her breast in an open-mouthed kiss. He closed his lips around her nipple and sucked hard.

  Dropping the condom on the bed, Sarah clenched the bedspread with both hands, then brought her right hand to the back of his head. Threading her fingers into his hair, she held on for dear life. The feel of the back of his hand traveling up the inside of her thigh startled her, but the sensations from his mouth on her nipple were too arousing for Sarah to care.

  He switched his attention to her other breast, and when Sarah let out a deep moan, he slipped a finger deep inside her, seating the sponge. Her hips came off the bed, and the hand she had in his hair tightened.

  “Owen!”

  “You’re so damned wet,” he said, raising his head. He slid his finger out, then back inside with more force than before. “Sarah, I need to be inside you. I don’t think I can wait.”

  Sarah didn’t feel like waiting, either. Fumbling for the condom with shaking hands, she tried to open the package, but couldn’t. Frustrated, she cursed under her breath.

  Her agitation seemed to calm Owen, and he took the packet from her. His hands were also shaking, but he managed to get the condom out and rolled down his length. “Last chance to stop, but I’m not sure I can let you go, even if you change your mind,” he warned.

  In answer, Sarah reached down and grasped his erection. His breath hissed out from between his teeth, and his eyes closed.

  “Now. Please,” she managed.

  Owen eased his weight onto her, pressing her legs wide with his hips. “There’s no way this won’t hurt. I don’t know how much, but I swear, I’ll make it up to you.” He rose up on one arm and used his other hand to guide the head of his erection to her wet entrance. Sarah moaned. Owen eased inside her a bare inch, then stopped and used his fingers to bring her to the brink of climax.

  Sarah moved restlessly, and her body stung where he was pressed against her. She didn’t care. She was on the verge of climaxing and wanted that more than she wanted the stinging to stop.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me, Sarah. Come for me.” He pressed his fingers against her more firmly and increased their rhythm.

  Sarah flew into a million pieces. She screamed, the burst of sensation was so intense, her back arching off the bed. Owen gave her time to recover, but only just, before he clasped her hands and raised them above her head. While the aftershocks of her orgasm trembled through her body, he eased inside.

  Sarah tried to relax around him, but it was difficult. As much as he’d aroused her, it was still painful.

  “Tilt your hips up,” Owen murmured. “Like that day when we were in your bed.” He bent to kiss her, his tongue mimicking what their lower bodies were doing. He pressed forward slowly until he was fully inside her. She tugged her hands loose and moved them to his back, smoothing her palms down the sweat-slickened skin.

  “Sweet holy… you’re so tight. You’re like a glove, so hot and tight,” he moaned. “Are you okay?”

  Sarah was uncomfortable and a little disappointed to find herself so. “I’m working on it.” He was stretching her and felt much larger inside her than he’d seemed. “Are you sure this is right?”

  Owen gave a strangled laugh. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure.” He kissed her shoulder and shuddered against her. “Sarah, I don’t know how much longer I can hold still. I don’t want to hurt you, but I need to move.”

  “Go ahead. You’re all the way in, aren’t you? So it shouldn’t be much worse.”

  He lifted his head. “Is it too bad?”

  Sarah could tell from the strain in his voice how much it had cost him to ask, and as he started backing out, she wrapped her legs around his hips. His eyes flared, and the flush on his cheekbones darkened.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t—” His voice broke off as his hips moved. He pressed back into her and withdrew. He set a rhythm, and their bodies rubbed and slid against each other, the movement eased by a sheen of sweat.

  The sensation of fullness eased a bit, but she still wasn’t comfortable. However, it wasn’t as bad as it had been, and she didn’t protest. After a few more thrusts, Owen stiffened. His eyes flew open, looking straight into hers, and with a hoarse shout, he pressed deep and held himself there. Sarah felt him pulsing inside her, and the wonder of it all struck her. He collapsed on her, pressing her even more firmly into the mattress. His breath was rough in her ear, and he kept whispering her name over and over again, like a mantra.

  To her relief, he eased out of her before she had to ask. He stayed on top of her, though, and Sarah was glad. She kept one hand on his back and raised the other to push his hair from his face. The sight of white speckles peppered through it made her smile. “You have paint in your hair.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s near impossible to get out.” He reached up and traced her lips with his index finger. “You are so beautiful. I could lay here and look at you forever. Do you know that?”

  “I might let you if you promise to let me look back.” Sarah put a hand to his chest. “So that’s what sex is all about.”

  “No.”

  Startled, Sarah laughed. “No? You mean the books have it wrong?”

  Owen shook his head. When he raised his head, she saw that his eyes were damp. “No, I mean what we just did wasn’t sex. It was love. We made love.”

 
The raw emotion on his face stole her breath. “Oh, Owen. Yes, we certainly did.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  OWEN COULD HARDLY BELIEVE THAT Sarah was in his house, much less in his bed. He’d dreamt of having her there so often, he kept surreptitiously pinching himself to make sure she was real.

  When she noticed what he was doing, she wrinkled her nose. “What are you doing?”

  “Pinching myself,” he admitted sheepishly. They were lying side by side in his bed, and Owen couldn’t stop touching her. Her face, her arm, her hand, he let his fingers trace the lines of her body. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and discover this was all a dream.”

  Sarah touched his jaw. “It’s real. I promise you.”

  He caught her hand and placed a soft kiss to the palm. “I need to get rid of the condom and the sponge.” A becoming blush pinkened her cheeks at the reminder.

  “Okay. How do we get it out?”

  Very matter-of-factly, he removed it. Even though he tried to be gentle, she still winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would be that bad.”

  “It’s okay. From what I’ve heard from my friends, that’s pretty normal for some women. I’ll soak in the tub when I get home.”

  Being careful not to drop the condom, Owen slid out of bed. “You can take a bath here, if you like. I have a huge tub. I’ll be right back.” He hurried down the hall and got rid of the prophylactics, then washed his hands and went back to the bedroom.

  Sarah was sitting up on the side of the bed, the bedspread pulled around her. She glanced up at him with a shy smile. Cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses, the picture she made nearly stopped his heart.

  “Do you want to take a bath?” he asked.