Crossing Promises

by Kimberly Kincaid

  And the scariest part was that it felt too right to be scary at all.

  “Come here.” Cate slid her arms around Owen’s neck, pulling their bodies flush. He moved toward her so willingly that the flutter in her belly turned into a full-fledged backflip, and, God, she couldn’t get enough of this man.

  “I’m here,” he said. Keeping his gentle hold on her face, he kissed her again, slow, but not soft. He pressed his mouth to hers, and the two days’ worth of stubble on his face created just enough friction to make her breath catch. “Just show me what you want, sweetheart.”

  Cate whispered, “All I want is you.”

  She eliminated the tiny fraction of space between them to reclaim the kiss. A sigh built in the back of her throat, swirling like a tiny storm before rising out of her. Owen coaxed her lips open to capture the sound, swiping his tongue first along her lower lip, then the smaller, more sensitive swoop of the one above it, tasting her thoroughly before tugging her lip between his own.

  “Ah.” She made a noise that defied actual language, and Owen’s smile grew dark over her mouth.

  “You like that.” He did it again before she could answer, and, again, she bowed into the provocative contact.

  “Yes.” Heat gathered between Cate’s thighs, heady and insistent. Owen read her in less than a breath, his tongue skimming another path over the top edge of her lip before he pulled back to let his fingertips follow.

  A wicked smile shaped his even more wicked mouth. “Good. Because if what you want is me, then I intend to deliver.”

  Cate paused, her heart tripping beneath her T-shirt. “You do?”

  “Mmm hmm. Do you want to know how?”

  Unable to get a verbal response past all the lust that had just made her sex squeeze with need, she nodded. Owen trailed one hand over her cheekbone, his calluses rasping against her skin as he hooked his index finger beneath her chin, tilting her face up to pin her with a glittering gray stare.

  “I’m going to undress you.” He flicked the button on her jeans open with his free hand as a preview, turning the juncture between her thighs slick even though he hadn’t come close to touching her there. His fingers moved up, hovering over the midline of her body for a long, pulsing moment before he rested them on her breastbone.

  “I’m going to touch you,” he continued, both his stare and his smile turning downright sinful as he leaned in to place his lips an inch away from hers.

  “Then I’m going to put my mouth in every single place you want it until you come apart under my tongue. And that’s only what will happen before I get my cock inside you.”

  Oh. God. Cate fought the urge to just rip off both of their clothes and skip all the pleasantries in favor of having him inside her within the next five seconds. But she’d promised to let him have her, and what’s more, it was what she wanted.

  This man. Touching her. Kissing her. Pleasuring her and taking her any way he wanted to.

  Starting right now.

  Nodding, she lowered her hands to her sides and shifted back a half step. Owen raked a stare over her, so hot she swore she could feel it on her skin. The soft light filtering in from the hallway allowed her to see his gaze travel up over her jeans, then her T-shirt, lingering on the flare of her hips and the curve of her breasts before connecting with her eyes.

  “So pretty,” he murmured. Other than that first time in his kitchen, Cate hadn’t felt particularly self-conscious about Owen seeing her pleasure. He certainly was skilled as hell at doling it out. But standing here, fully clothed and brimming with need for what only he could give her, she knew she should feel vulnerable.

  Instead, she looked him right in the eye and trusted him.

  He stepped closer, running his fingers over the top edge of her jeans. Anticipation pumped through her, turning into relief as he grasped the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. She’d gone for function over form when getting dressed this morning, choosing a plain, white satin bra that—ugh—bordered on boring.

  Not that Owen seemed to mind. “Mmm,” came a rumble of appreciation, deep in the back of his throat. “Now, turn.”

  Surprise stuttered through Cate’s veins at the near-demand, but she did as he asked, pivoting on her heels to face his bed.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he said, proving it by wrapping an arm around her from behind. Even through his T-shirt, his chest was warm on her rib cage, and the unmistakable ridge of his cock pressing against her lower back sent a shot of arousal directly to her core.

  “I know,” Cate said. Owen’s fingers slid over her belly, deftly lowering the zipper on her jeans and tugging the denim from her hips to reveal the white satin panties that matched her bra. She toed out of her sandals at the same time he pulled her jeans past her knees, until, finally, both were on the floor, forgotten.

  Owen returned to standing in the spot behind her, his hands shaping her waist and his breath warm on her neck. True to his word, he let his fingers start to roam, first over her hips, then her sides, then her shoulders. He touched her as if he was memorizing every contour, and her heart pounded faster as she watched each glide of his hands. His exhale grew rougher when he got to her breasts, the sound making her nipples stand out tightly against the thin barrier of the fabric covering them.

  “Owen, please.” She arched into the contact, desperate for more, and he obliged in less than a heartbeat. One twist of his wrist freed her bra, his strong, capable hands feeling so wantonly hot on her bare skin that she cried out.

  “I could spend forever listening to you make that sound,” he said. Still at her back, he cupped both of her breasts, stroking circles over her achingly tight nipples. Each pass heightened her arousal even more, and oh, God—oh, God, oh, God—her clit throbbed so hard it nearly hurt with the sort of pleasure/pain that made her desperate to come.

  As if he’d read her mind, Owen lowered one hand over the flat of her belly. Cate watched, entranced, as he dipped his fingers past the top edge of her panties, her gasp flying out when he slipped them over her sex with ease.

  “Ah!” She bucked into the touch, her body vibrating with need.

  “There you are, so wet and ready,” he whispered. “So goddamn beautiful.”

  She realized in that moment that Owen was watching over her shoulder, and even though she’d have thought it impossible, she grew even more turned on. Cate moaned in reply, watching, too as he teased her clit with his fingers. She widened her stance to give him better access, meeting each touch with a thrust of her hips. Owen tightened his arm around her belly, pulling her completely level against his chest. Using his new vantage point, he cupped her sex and sank two fingers deep inside, the pressure so unexpected and darkly provocative that she saw stars.

  Yet Owen’s voice was steady behind her. “I have you, remember.” He withdrew slightly, but only to press right back home. “Take what you need. I’m right here to give it to you.”

  Cate didn’t wait to comply. Pumping her hips, she moved over his fingers, her inner muscles squeezing and releasing with every push and retreat. The heel of his hand rubbed against her clit, the slickness from between her legs providing friction that sent a tremble from the lowest part of her belly. An orgasm built from some hidden place inside her, twisting and growing stronger with each thrust of Owen’s fingers. He lowered the hand that had been cupping her breast, sliding his fingers into the scant space between his opposite palm and her body. Between the pressure inside her core and the more direct contact of his fingers on her overly sensitive clit, she was lost. Her climax spiraled out from between her hips, wringing all of her tension free and knocking her breath from her lungs until finally, she was boneless in Owen’s arms.

  “Christ, that was hot,” he said, his voice ragged and reverent. Cate registered the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the hum of need pulsing through him with the heartbeat she felt against her back, and she turned in his arms in one fluid spin.

  “Now, it’s your turn.” She reached fo
r the button on his jeans. “I want to make you feel good, too. Tell me what you want.”

  The chuckle filling the shadowy air around them shocked her, stilling her hands.

  “Just you, sweetheart,” Owen said, his gaze wide-open and steady on hers. “I only want you.”

  They made quick work of the few items of clothing left between them, her panties, his shirt and boots and jeans and boxers all finding the floorboards in quick succession. He guided her back over his bed, settling her in the center of the mattress before tucking in at her side. He followed through on his dark and dirty promise to kiss her anywhere she wanted him to, desire sparking back through her blood with speed and intensity that both surprised and excited the hell out of her as he worked her body with perfect strokes of his lips and tongue. But despite her rebounding arousal, Cate still felt empty, as if she was missing just one more piece that would make her whole.

  “Owen,” she whispered, pulling him toward her and rolling to her side so they were lined up, face-to-face. “Take what you really want. I want it, too. I want you.”

  Slowly, Owen nodded. Breaking from her only long enough to take a condom from his bedside table and roll it firmly into place, he returned to the spot beside her, brushing a kiss over her mouth that quickly deepened. Cate hooked one knee over his hip, using the leverage and some added momentum from her hands to roll him onto his back.

  He arched up, the thick length of his cock jutting against his lower belly. His muscles, already bowstring tight beneath her, became even more rigid when she shifted forward to straddle his upper thighs, and she greedily gave in to the urge to slide her sex over his rock-hard shaft.

  “Cate.”

  It was as much benediction as it was warning, and she heeded both. Tilting her hips, she angled even closer, until the head of his cock was notched at her entrance. Owen gripped her waist, bowing up into her at the same time she lowered down, and Cate was helpless against the moan working its way past her lips.

  “Oh…God.” She stilled, trying to adjust to the nearly too-tight fullness where she’d just felt so empty. Owen held her in place, keeping their bodies completely joined as he started to rock against her. The movement was just enough to let her inner muscles relax, and it quickly sent desire kicking through her blood.

  Anchoring her shins to the mattress, Cate balanced her weight more steadily on her knees. She tested her pleasure, riding Owen’s cock with thrusts that ranged from shallow to rapid to deep before sinking all the way over him until he filled her to the hilt. A high noise vibrated in the back of her throat at the combination of pressure and friction, and she leaned forward in search of both. The move brought his cock in direct contact with her already hyper-sensitive clit, tripping her right over the edge into another release. Owen let her ride out every tremor before rolling her to her back in a move so swift, they remained locked together, and Cate knotted her legs around the corded muscles at his hips, taking him as deeply as her body would allow. He was right there with her, though, thrusting harder and faster and filling her again and again, until his body tensed and he came with a shout.

  Owen softened his movements, his body growing heavier over hers with each passing second. For a minute, they simply lay there, catching their breath.

  And then he stole hers all over again by saying, “I mean it, Cate. All I want is you.”

  27

  All I want is you.

  The words had echoed in Cate’s head for the past twenty-four hours. She’d been so stunned when Owen had said them that she hadn’t been able to speak. She hadn’t been able to say what was in her heart, which was that all she wanted was him, too. Once she’d gotten past the shock of what he’d said and what she felt in return, she’d wanted to say it back—hell, she’d wanted to shout it from the rooftops. But Owen had already kissed her forehead and turned to gather his clothes, giving her that crooked smile she loved so much and promising to go warm up some dinner.

  They’d slid right back into their routine, talking and laughing and even wrapping up in blankets to have a couple of beers on his front porch as the stars rose in the sky. Today had been more of the same, with her happily testing out the last of the cake recipes and Owen working in the greenhouse while Hunter took farmers’ market duty, and, as crazy as it was, Cate couldn’t deny the truth.

  Not only was she falling for Owen Cross, but with what he’d said last night, they might just end up together instead of heartbroken.

  “Hey! Are you ready?” Owen’s voice delivered her back to the spot where she stood in his kitchen, and, God, how could her heart squeeze so hard at just one little smile from this man? “Eli and Scarlett’s flight landed at BWI three hours ago, and he texted to let us know they breezed through customs and they’re about forty minutes out.”

  “Oh, good,” Cate said. She was dying to hear about Eli and Scarlett’s stay in Dublin. And if they happened to have any inside scoop on the nuances of authentic Irish soda bread, all the better. “I was just finishing up. Marley and I made a bit of a mess in here with her buttercream lesson today. Trust me when I tell you that as delicious as it is, the stuff is like spackling paste once it dries.”

  Owen laughed. “Yeah, I saw her at the main house about an hour ago and she had frosting in her hair, so I figured y’all had had a busy day.”

  “Is she coming to dinner?” Cate asked. Marley hadn’t mentioned it, and even though she had been tempted to ask during their kitchen session today, she’d also wanted to let the Crosses make their own inroads without pushing from her side. Not too much, anyway.

  Owen’s smile sobered, his gray eyes turning serious. “No. I asked her, of course, and with Eli and Scarlett coming home, I’d really been hoping she’d bite, but she said she had to work in Lockridge. I’m not sure she didn’t volunteer for the shift just to get out of the house, but…”

  Cate closed the space between them, smoothing the crease between his brows with her fingers as if she could erase it. “Baby steps. Today she showed me pictures of the dress she’s wearing to the wedding, and she even seemed excited about how Emerson helped her pick it out, so that’s something.”

  “She did?” he asked.

  “Mmm hmm. She’ll get there, Owen. With you guys and your father. Just give her time to figure out how.”

  He wrapped an arm around her to pull her against his chest. “Thank you for asking her to help with the wedding cake. Learning how to bake is really bringing her out of her shell.”

  “I’m glad it’s making Marley feel more comfortable with your family to help with the cake, but I’m just as grateful to have her hands in the kitchen. She’s an excellent assistant,” Cate said, a warm feeling spreading out beneath her flowy, light blue tank top. “And while we’re on the topic of gratitude, thank you for asking me to your family dinner tonight.”

  The smile Owen had ditched went on a comeback tour, making Cate’s heart speed up just as much as it had the first time. “In case you haven’t noticed, I kind of like you,” he said. “And it’s not as if you’re a stranger to my family or our dinners. Why wouldn’t I ask you to dinner tonight?”

  Cate shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to join you.”

  Okay, so it was a teensy bit of an understatement, but she’d really come to look forward to spending time at the main house—and not just with Owen. She loved talking with Hunter and Emerson about their wedding plans, and she’d become downright addicted to crossword puzzles after Mr. Cross had turned her onto the ones in the Camden Valley Chronicle a couple of weeks ago. Still… “With Eli and Scarlett coming home for the first time since Christmas, it would’ve been okay to keep your first dinner together to just family.”

  “No, it wouldn’t. I want you there. Plus”—Owen lifted a brow, turning to eyeball the pair of pies cooling on the ledge—“the only thing better than your peach pie is your strawberry rhubarb pie, and now I get to have both.”

  “You are terrible,” Cate pointed out with a laugh, and he captured
the sound with a kiss before pulling back and reaching across the counter for his keys.

  “Terribly glad you’re coming to dinner,” he amended. “Now, come on. Eli, pain in the ass that he is, asked for Shepherd’s pie for his first meal stateside, which means I’ve got a mountain of potatoes to peel, not to mention some prep to do for Scarlett’s vegan version.”

  “Ah! Thank you for reminding me.” Cate moved to grab the eight-by-eight baking pan she’d covered in foil and set aside earlier, lifting it with a flourish. “I can’t believe I nearly forgot these.”

  “Okay,” Owen said, waiting just a beat while she treated the peach pie to the same foil-wrapping treatment as the eight-by-eight pan. “What are they?”

  She wrapped up the strawberry-rhubarb pie next, nestling everything in one of the baskets they used to transport her baked goods to the farmers’ market. “Vegan cherry chocolate brownies.”

  They’d been a first for her, to be sure, but, actually, cooking with ingredients like flax seeds and coconut oil hadn’t been too bad once she’d gotten the hang of things.

  Owen’s expression said he was definitely not sold on the idea of flax seeds, coconut oil, or vegan cherry chocolate brownies. “You made special brownies for Scarlett?”

  “Well, yeah.” Cate shrugged. “I mean, I murdered a few batches before I got them passably decent, but I remembered she’s vegan from when she spent time here last fall.”

  Not too many folks came in to The Bar asking to read the ingredients label on their beer bottle before they committed to throwing a few back. The fact had been pretty tough to forget.

  “It didn’t seem right to only bring desserts Scarlett couldn’t eat,” Cate continued, hefting the basket to her hip. “Plus, I had a lady ask me if I made vegan baked goods last week at the farmers’ market.”