Grace decided her best course of action was to just sidestep the topic entirely. She didn’t want to talk about sex. Not with Owen. “What are you doing here?”
“I was bored?” She eyeballed him. “I was sleepwalking?” Another slightly meaner eyeball. “I was curious. Why you were getting up in the middle of the night, where you were going.” He stopped by the side of the bed. “So?”
“I couldn’t sleep and I like to think here.”
Owen glanced around the room, taking in the erotic decor and furnishings. “Yes. I can see how you’d get a lot of thinking done here. Clearly, this is no place for action.”
She shouldn’t laugh, shouldn’t encourage him. A small snicker popped out anyway. He did that to her, knocked her off guard and made her forget about her plans.
Owen took that as an invitation to move closer. Grace could feel the warmth rolling off him and smell his toothpaste. He reached out to put a finger under her chin and draw her eyes to his. “I lied.”
“Did you?” She raised an eyebrow, wondering where this was going, telling herself that it didn’t matter.
He nodded, but didn’t explain, just started to lower his head toward hers. Grace felt her pulse skitter out of her control. “I followed you because I wanted to do this.” And then he kissed her and she forgot about controlling anything.
His fingers threaded through her hair, anchoring her head as he deepened the kiss. Grace felt the heat of his body and mouth, how it blanketed her, raising her temperature. Oh, it was good. So good.
For a full minute, Owen did nothing more. Didn’t shift his hands to stroke her arms or back, didn’t slide his tongue into her mouth to tease and play, didn’t shift forward to bring their bodies into full contact. He simply cradled her head while he slowly and softly explored her lips. By the end, Grace felt wobbly and as though the control she held so dear might be gone for good.
“Owen.” His name was more of a gasp than a command, which was a good indication of how her insides felt.
“That is my name.” He ran a thumb across her lower lip and then kissed her again.
Grace felt her entire body slide into the kiss. Her mouth softened under his, her hands clutched at the back of the thin T-shirt he wore and she stepped forward to feel the hard press of his body. They’d barely done anything and she was already halfway gone. She sucked in a hard breath.
No, she couldn’t do this. It wasn’t appropriate, wasn’t professional. Like the good-night kiss outside her bedroom? Like the make-out session on the night of the engagement party? Like the fact that it was his name on her lips and his face in her thoughts when she put her vibrator to use?
Yes, she’d already done this. In her fantasies, in her mind. But that was different than reality. She pulled back and tried again. “Owen.”
He looked at her, his eyes dark with desire. “I’m not your client.”
Cutting down her most salient point before she could even bring it up. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m working for your family. What would they say?”
“Julia would probably give me a high five. Donovan would say you can do better. Mal would be supportive. My parents would invite you to dinner.” He slid one hand down to massage the back of her neck. She hadn’t realized how tight the muscles were until he began smoothing out the knots. Loosening them, loosening her.
“Okay, you should stop that.” But she didn’t step back and her eyes drifted shut.
“This?” He kissed her jaw and then down the side of her neck. “Or this?” He tugged on the belt of her robe.
“All of it.” But her voice was back to that breathless gasp again, so her words didn’t carry much weight. Neither did her body, since her hands were still wrapped up in his shirt as if they were never letting go and her body strained to get closer to his.
“Okay. You tell me when and we’ll stop.” He began tracing his way along her collarbone. First with his fingers, then his mouth, the pair of them finding their way into the neckline of the thin camisole nightgown she wore.
Grace shuddered. Again, he’d barely done anything and she was already aching. “Okay.” She could do that. They’d have a little fun, enjoy themselves and then she could put an end to it. She’d been without male contact for too long, judging from the way she was soaking this up. And what was so wrong with that? She and Owen were both single adults. There was no reason they shouldn’t have a bit of fun together. He slid her robe off her shoulder and pushed one of the straps of her nightgown down. Okay, a lot of fun together.
He hooked a finger in the front of her nightgown and tugged, the now loosened strap providing limited resistance on one side. The cool silky material slid along her nipple. Grace felt it bead in response, rising hard and proud, announcing to the world—or just Owen—that it was ready for attention.
Owen was a good listener. He tugged again, sliding the material farther down until her breast was free, then lowered his head and sucked. Grace’s arms rose without thinking to clasp him closer. She felt the swirl of his tongue and the answering tug in her belly.
Just a little fun, she reminded herself. She could call this off at any time. And she would. Just as soon as it stopped being fun.
Owen sucked again, a bit harder this time, and everything Grace had been thinking flew out of her head.
Grace heard the tremor in her own breath, the long sighs of pleasure he was already drawing out of her. It was the room. Well, no, it was only partly the room. It was also Owen with his big hands and quick laugh and dark eyes. She felt a quiver of something stronger than lust and pushed it away. There was nothing more here than simple attraction. “Owen?”
He licked at her neck again. Grace felt another full-body tremble coming on. His voice rumbled across her skin. “Tell me you want me.”
“I...” She couldn’t say the words, couldn’t say anything when he was doing that wonderful dance with his tongue. Her entire body was melting.
“I want to hear you say it, Grace.” There was a softness to his tone that should have distracted from his body, but it only made it seem more powerful.
“Why?” Her eyes were closed again. How had that happened? She was falling down a deep, dark cavern and she wasn’t sure where she was going to land, but she was surely enjoying the ride.
“It turns me on.” He lowered her to the bed. She didn’t even recall crossing the room. “To hear it from those sweet lips.” He ran a finger over them as he said it. “Tell me that you want me.”
She swallowed. She did want him, but could she tell him that? She forced her eyes open, found him leaning over her, his fingers playing with the straps of her nightgown while his eyes roamed from her face to her toes and back up. “You know this is—”
He cut off her words with a hot kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, pressing close, darting away and back again. “I’m not your client.” Maybe not. But his brother was and that was almost as bad. Owen’s voice grew quieter. “This is just about us. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want this.”
Grace’s throat felt dry. She didn’t know if she could tell him that, either. “Just for tonight.” She couldn’t bear to turn him away, but she knew she was crossing a line. “One night and then we go back to the way we were before.”
“Casual flirting with the occasional make-out session?” He pressed a trail of kisses down her chest, pulling on her nightgown as he did so that both her breasts were exposed. “I can live with that.”
“No, I mean...” It was awfully hard to clarify what she meant when he was toying with her like this. One hand palming a breast while his mouth played with the other, then switching. Back and forth until her entire body felt strung tight.
Grace realized her eyes had slipped shut again and she forced them open, forced her tongue to work through the thick heaviness that was enveloping her whole body. “After
tonight, we’re professional. No anything.” Which wasn’t particularly descriptive but was the best she could do under the circumstances.
Owen didn’t say no or yes. He didn’t say anything. Just kept his head bent to the task of teasing her to the point where she wouldn’t be able to speak at all. And she let him. There would be plenty of time tomorrow to ensure he knew she was serious, that this wasn’t a joke or some sex game. That she meant it. But right now? Right now she just wanted to be naked with Owen Ford.
A long, delicious shudder swept through her body when he began to work her nightgown over her hips and down her legs. The air was cool but Owen was warm and he never left her alone long enough to get chilled.
He pulled back the covers, placed her gently on the sheets as he kissed her, leaving her with just the wisp of pink satin that acted as her panties.
“Oh,” she moaned against his mouth. Any remaining thoughts of career and professionalism flew out of her head as he shoved himself against her. The buttons on his jeans pressed against her hip, branding her, and she gripped the hem of his T-shirt, fully intending to rip it off him if she had to.
“Hurry.” The need was surging through her in swells that threatened to drown her.
“Hurrying.” He helped her yank the shirt over his head and shucked off his jeans in two practiced moves. Then he stood before her a moment, all Greek god and gym-buffed before he fell on top of her, mouth and hands working together to answer the demanding sighs she couldn’t quite control.
“Don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His fingers drifted up the inside of her leg while he kissed her, dipping beneath the edge of her panties without ever touching. Her body arched and strained toward him, intent on fulfillment and, apparently, with a mind of its own.
Why wouldn’t he just touch her? She wanted to be naked with him, for him. She wanted him between her legs.
But Owen appeared to have other plans. He trailed a line of kisses across her neck and up to her ear. “You’re so beautiful.” The words tickled against her skin, drifted through her hair. “Gorgeous.” His hand slid over her thigh, pushed it back a little farther. She heard his breath catch and his next words were a bit strangled. “What are you doing to me?”
She didn’t even know what she was doing to herself. “Please, Owen.” She saw his lips curl at the use of his name, felt another bolt of desire unfurl. “Touch me.”
He glanced down between her open legs. “Where to start?” He bent slightly. “I do like those pink panties. Maybe I should take a closer look?”
Grace couldn’t say anything, could hardly breathe as he kneeled in front of her. His hands rested on the inside of her thighs, holding them open when she might have let practicality overwhelm her and try to close them.
They were, after all, about to have sex in a semipublic place. Because although the family knew that no one was to enter if the abode was in use, she hadn’t turned the sex frog that guarded the left side of the door to face the wall, which was the signal. Anyone could walk in on them. See them. “Owen.” She tried to find the words, but they drifted away.
No one was going to interrupt them. Not here. Not now.
And she could hardly think when his hands were running down her legs and circling her ankles. Slowly, he drew her legs up, bending them at the knees as he placed her heels closer to her hips, and spread them wider so that she was completely, utterly exposed.
He moved his head closer. “Much better.” The words brushed against her skin and she felt the start of a long line of tremors at the knowledge of what was to come.
But his hands continued to play with the lacy edges of her panties. She was convinced that if he didn’t touch her soon, she was going to explode. But he just kept teasing around the edges, stoking the flames under her skin higher and higher until she could stand it no longer.
“Owen.” She spat the word out before it got lost in a moan of pain and pleasure. “If you don’t touch me soon, I am going to die. And then you’ll have to live with your guilty conscience.”
He laughed and stroked the damp material between her legs with his thumb. “Better?”
Better? Better didn’t even begin to cover it.
She arched toward him. More tremors rippled through her body as he stroked and circled. It was amazing. Incredible. The feelings coursed through her faster than she could name them, tumbling against one another in a jumble of sensations. She looked down at him. He was watching her and he smiled when he caught her gaze. And then very slowly and deliberately, he turned his attention to her panties.
Grace’s breathing stopped as he caught his fingers around the sides and tugged. Carefully, gently, he eased them over her hips and down her legs. Her heart was racing. Her mind was a muddle of emotions. She was finally completely naked in front of him and all she wanted was more.
She cried out when Owen bent his head and tasted her, his tongue soft and careful. Her hands clawed the back of his head. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything except feel. And she felt wonderful.
He sped up his rhythm, lapping faster until her legs shook and her feet began to slide. But he was relentless in his pursuit to bring her pleasure, his hands closing over her ankles, opening her wider while he sucked and licked.
Grace could feel hot pulses shooting up her body and the sweet release that hovered behind it. She heard herself making short mewling sounds that increased in rapidity with every stroke from his tongue and knew that if anyone happened to be outside on a midnight jaunt and happened to pause outside the door, they would hear them, too. But she didn’t care.
Her legs shook harder. She was soaked with her own need. His tongue ran up and down teasingly and then centered, bringing her to the edge of her climax.
“Please...” Grace couldn’t get anything else out, didn’t have any words left. All the blood had left her head and was pooled between her thighs. Torn between letting him finish and having him inside her, she exhaled a low, hungry moan.
She was close, so close. He just had to...one more...and...
She cried out with relief and pleasure when the quaking started for real. Owen didn’t stop, though, but kept licking, leisurely, incessantly, until he had drained every last shiver from her body.
Then he pushed himself to his feet to stand before her. She felt her legs slide down the bed, boneless now and unable to remain lifted without support.
He smiled, and his eyes were dark and hot. “And you didn’t want me to follow you.”
Grace let out a shaky laugh. “Guess you showed me.”
He chuckled. “And I’ve got something else to show you.” Her eyes followed his hands as he stroked himself, and despite the long and remarkable orgasm she’d just survived, Grace realized that she wanted him again.
“Let me.” She reached for him, taking over, her hands strong and sure. She watched him, his eyes on her hands as she moved. She felt him lengthen against her palm. So hot and soft, like silk and fire.
“The nightstand,” she told him.
“The nightstand?” He sounded as if his throat was being crushed.
“In the top drawer.” She kept stroking. “Condoms.”
“Right.” He was breathing hard and didn’t move. So she did, keeping one hand on him while she fumbled for the drawer and the foil packets she was sure would be inside. She wasn’t disappointed and she drew one out like a prize.
Owen practically ripped it out of her hand, opened the foil with his teeth and tossed the packet away. Seconds later, the condom was on and he was reaching for her.
Grace let him maneuver her body, watched as he put his hands on her thighs and spread them wider. She was so hot and hungry. Her eyes slipped shut when he began rubbing himself up and down her body. The tremors hovering just below the surface of her skin grew stronger.
&n
bsp; She’d never been the multiple-orgasm type before. Usually, she was so sensitive after that she didn’t want to be touched at all. But this was different.
Flares of pleasure made her forget about any lingering sensitivity. She reached up, used his arms for leverage as she pulled herself closer to him. He stroked up and down once, then twice, then slid his finger inside her.
Grace moaned. His finger was magic, dipping and twirling, gently opening her up to accept another. She shook from the pleasure. It felt fantastic, but she wanted more. She wanted him inside her, all of him, deep and throbbing and entirely mind-blowing.
His motions increased in intensity. She knew he must be barely holding on. She was barely holding on. She couldn’t imagine how he’d stood it this long when she was about to come again before he’d even come once.
It was time to take matters into her own hands. Grace reached down and grabbed him, led him to the entrance of her body and nudged him inside. Her body shivered, already opening to take him entirely.
He needed no further encouragement. He grabbed her hip with one hand to hold her in place and entered her completely with one long, hard stroke.
Grace threw her head back and moaned. He was big, so big, and there was no softness in their coupling. Here, at last, it was fast and hot. Almost animalistic, definitely primal.
His fingers bit into her hips, clutching her tight so she couldn’t move. She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck while he pumped into her, held fast when her body felt as if it was going to tear apart from sheer pleasure, cried out his name when she came again.
His fingers dug deeper into her skin as he stroked his way to climax. She’d probably have a tattoo of bruises, a reminder of their party for two, but she didn’t care. He groaned, pumped one last time and dropped his head on her shoulder.
He was heavy and warm. Grace could feel the sweat beading on his forehead. A lone drop fell onto her shoulder and ran down her back. She didn’t even make a move to wipe it away. She didn’t even mind that he was sweating on her. If that didn’t tell her everything she needed to know about her feelings for Owen Ford, nothing would.
One More Night Page 14