by Zoe York
“But then I was wearing the wrong shirt.” His face went soft, as it did any time he was thinking about his daughter. “And Becca caught on to the fact I was a bit flustered.”
Kerry laughed, then covered her mouth. “Sorry,” she mumbled from behind her fingers. “That’s cute.” She threw him a bone. “I changed twice.”
“Yeah, but you have more dating experience than me.”
“When was the last time you went on a date?”
He didn’t answer her.
“Owen?”
He was a big beast of a man, and the way his nose flared only made the image that much more complete. And right now the beast was at a loss for words.
The way he was overprotective of Becca, it made her wonder… “Have you ever dated?”
He laughed. “That’s a complicated answer.”
“It usually isn’t.” But Kerry could see how it would be for Owen, Mr. Conflicted, who shook when he wanted to kiss her.
There was nothing conflicted about the way he glanced sideways at her, though. He gave her a warm, confident smile. “Now we have something to talk about over dinner.”
He’d picked a steakhouse with a view of the Tobermory harbour, at the northern tip of the peninsula. They weren’t the only customers in the restaurant, but it wasn’t busy, and they were seated well away from anyone else, in a booth in the corner.
“What do you like here?” Kerry asked as she perused the menu.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been here before.” He gave her another of those bashful but confident smiles that felt warm and deep and very addictive. “I guess that’s me bringing up the lack of dating thing again.”
Tell me more. Tell me everything. “So…” She wanted to ask what was different about her, or now. But there was something fragile about Owen that she wanted to protect. So she tip-toed softly. “You said it was complicated.”
“Yeah.” He played with his water glass, frowning in a thinking way. “There was a period in my life when I was young and stupid, and I couldn’t connect what felt like a good time in the moment and what still felt like a good time the next day. That was while I was away at school, and only home every other weekend with Becca. It was a dark period in my life for a lot of reasons. My…” He swallowed hard. “My dad died while I was gone. My mom died soon after I got back. I had time to make up for with Becca, and four younger brothers to take care of, too. It was a lot, and even after my brothers left the house…”
Kerry tried to do the math. “Adam’s ten years younger than you?”
“Yeah. So he left home just as Becca hit pre-puberty, and…” He laughed. “I love her so much, but that was a roller coaster. And then Rachel had more kids, and Becca didn’t want to spend more than a few nights a month there—she goes there a lot for dinner,” he hastened to add.
“It’s okay. I understand complicated family dynamics. My parents are divorced and re-married, both of them, and they both had more kids. I went back and forth.”
“Siblings on both sides, eh?”
“They’re all much younger than me.”
“Are you close?” Owen was watching her attentively, and Kerry hesitated. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”
“It’s not prying,” she said softly. “It’s complicated, as you say. I don’t have much in common with them. Or my parents, for that matter. I think my situation is different than Becca’s.”
The waiter arrived and Owen ordered a steak with a side of grilled vegetables. Kerry followed suit. When he asked about drinks, Owen deferred to Kerry. “Would you like wine?”
She shook her head. She wanted to be clear-headed and sober when she invited him in at the end of the night. “I’m good with water tonight.”
"Sounds good,” the waiter said, picking up their menus. “Can I tempt you with some flatbread and dip to start?”
“Oh…” Kerry said at the same time as Owen nodded. They both chuckled.
“Yes, please,” she said. And once they were alone again, she shifted a little closer to Owen. “I’m having fun.”
“Me, too.” He paused, then leaned in all the way and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “What else do you want to know about me?”
The answer pulsed heavy in her bloodstream. Everything.
Dinner was amazing, but filling, and they both passed on dessert—at the same time, again.
Owen wasn’t in a rush to end the date. The exact opposite, in fact. When they stepped outside, he gestured to the harbour. “Do you want to take a walk?”
Kerry slid her hand into his and squeezed. “We could. Or…” She caught his gaze with her own. “We could go back to my place.”
He wasn’t going to say no. “I’d love to.”
They held hands to his truck, their arms brushing, awareness zinging through him of what might come next. He wanted to taste her, make her feel good. Hold her without having to let her go for a good while.
The conversation on the drive back to Pine Harbour was different. Just as easy, but the pace changed. Less about exploring what they had in common and where they came from, and more about who they are now. Work. Friends. Dating, again, this time about Kerry.
“My career has always come first,” she said. “The midwifery program was so intense.”
“How long was it?”
“Four years, pretty much year round. And on the job training for a lot of it, all over the province. I think I moved six times, and then another three times after graduating.”
“Is that how you see it going in the future?” Owen didn’t like the way his chest tightened up. She’d already been here nearly a year. If she moved that often, how long until she headed on to the next place?
But she shook her head. “I think I’ll settle here. Jenna’s a great work partner, and we’ve already ramped up to full client loads. She wasn’t sure we would, but it was worth it to her to work closer to home. And I’m glad I took the leap with her.”
“I’m glad, too.”
“Now,” she teased.
He shook his head. “I’ve liked you from the very start, Kerry Humphrey. I promise you that.”
“Maybe it was for the best I couldn’t see that back when we met.” She bit her lower lip and smiled. “You would have been hard to resist if the door was open to friendship from that first meeting.”
“That’s a hell of a compliment.” He laughed. “You were hard to resist even when you didn’t like me.”
“I liked you,” she whispered. “Too much.”
Ah, hell. He cleared his throat. “I’m glad we’re getting to know each other now.”
The last ten kilometres dragged until the turn for Pine Harbour came into sight, his pulse thumping at the promise of being alone.
He followed her up the stairs to her apartment like she was leading him into a dream.
“Do you want something to drink?” She asked as she opened the door and stepped inside, turning on the lights.
Owen waited until the door closed behind him and she’d turned around to look at him, then held out his hand. “I want you.”
Instead of coming in for another doorway kiss, she hooked her fingers into his and led him forward, through the narrow and long living room to the bedroom she’d pointed to before. She kicked off her heels, and Owen followed suit, taking off his boots. He should have done that at the door, but she had him in her thrall.
Kerry came to stand in front of him and ran her fingers up and down the line of buttons on his shirt. She was extra little in her bare feet, and he stood still while she explored him. “How do you want me?” she murmured. “Naked?”
A groan ripped from his throat. “Yes.”
“All the way naked, or do you want to peel my clothes off little by little?”
She was killing him. “Yes. Both.”
She laughed gently. “You have to pick one for the first time.”
The first time. He let out a rough breath, relieved there would more of this together. “Let me undress you.”
<
br /> “Can I do the same for you?”
“Please.”
Her fingers slid around the top button, touching his bare skin for a split second before moving to the next one. Again and again, she grazed his chest with her nimble touch, undoing him in more ways than one. He stayed where he was until she had his shirt off, then reached for her. His turn, now, and he savoured the act of baring her flesh. He traced the hem of her shirt as he gathered the delicate fabric in his hands, bringing them around her body to carefully lift the shirt up and over her head. Then he held it between them, leaning in for a slow, exploring kiss.
Kerry’s kisses matched the way she looked at him. Teasing, curious. Sexy in a way that seemed to have no limit. Each slide of her tongue was erotic in a whole new way, making him bold. He wanted to look at her, spread her out and feast his eyes, but he couldn't back up enough, couldn't let go of her for even a second. His hands drifted to her pants, and she helped him. The fabric gave way and he felt the shape of her. Curves and muscle, dips and valleys of warm skin. Her bottom fit perfectly in his hands, filling his spread wide fingers as he lifted her up and somehow got them on to the bed together.
He lost himself in the taste of her, the sweeping, head-spinning arousal sparked by each deep open-mouthed kiss. She touched him, too, all over. Her fingers lingered on his jaw, then his chest, and headed for his belt when he halted her.
Soon enough. But he needed to slow down, or he'd be inside her and it would be over before he even got a good look at her. “It’s been a while,” he rasped, stilling her hand with his. He rolled her onto her back and pushed himself up so he was above her. He put his hands on her hips, and she lifted so he could peel off her panties. “Let me just have a minute with you here. God, look at you. You’re so pretty.”
He liked the way her eyes went warm and soft at the compliment. It was true, though. She was pretty. He liked everything about the way she looked spread out beneath him. The soft flutter at the base of her neck, the deep pink of her lips, flushed and swollen. The bright gaze looking up at him.
It was always her eyes that got him the worst. The way she’d looked at him, really looked at him, when he took Becca to her first appointment. The way she’d watched him through meetings, and every damn time they bumped into each other.
The way her gaze had lingered just long enough in his kitchen to know she was twisted up the same way he was—it had been an invitation then, and it was again now.
“What are you thinking?”
“I like the way you look at me,” he murmured. “I always have.”
She reached up and pulled him down on top of her, colliding them together for another searing kiss. He chuckled. "I'm trying to take my time here."
Her eyes crinkled. "And I'm trying to get you inside me."
He couldn't resist that. “I have condoms.” He grinned and hopped off the bed, which made Kerry laugh. “What?”
“You have the energy of a man who hasn’t been laid in some time.”
“That’s an understatement.”
She smiled wickedly. “I know the feeling.”
“Has it been a while for you, Ms. Humphrey?”
He crawled back on top of her, protection now in hand.
“Since I moved here,” she whispered. Since they’d met.
Raw, animalistic hunger surged through him. He kissed her mouth until her lips were swollen, then kept going, tasting her neck, her breasts plump in his hands. She took off her bra and he swirled his tongue around her nipples until they stood proud, then gently pulled on them with his mouth until she was shaking beneath him. He’d planned to fuck her first. He needed to be inside her something fierce, but she’d waited a long time for this, for him, and he didn’t think Kerry had been in the habit of denying herself pleasure in the past.
He had months of pleasure to make up for.
He kissed down her belly, loving the way it quivered as he got closer to her thighs, to the lovely, warm centre of her. Her scent made his mouth water, and when her legs fell wide apart, when he saw the dark, tight curls give way to a soft, pink pussy, glistening for him, he forgot all about the condoms and bowed his head for his first taste.
She went taut as soon as his tongue slicked against bare skin. He reached beneath her, bracing his arms under her legs, his hands finding her hips and the curve of her waist. Her back arched as she spread herself wider for him. Inviting him to lick more, suck more. He did. He explored first, then settled in where she seemed to like it best. He went from soft to firm and back to soft. Slow licks. Eager pulls on her clit as she seemed to get closer.
If he could make her come like this, he'd feel like a king. If she came first, it would be okay if he didn't last long once he got inside her, if he lost control. But God, he wanted to feel her come on his cock, too. He wanted it all. He wanted this feeling to last all night, wanted her pleasure to last all night.
He lifted his head. "Tell me what you need."
"Fingers," she said, her eyes dancing. "Put your fingers inside me."
He held her gaze as he touched her. Watched her face as he slid one finger, then two into her tight pussy. Her expression shifted, her eyes got more hooded, and then unfocused, as he found the spots inside her that pushed her closer to the edge. Ducking his head again, he added his mouth. Come for me, he thought. He wanted that. It was selfish. He wanted it for her, of course, but he wanted it for himself, too.
It was primal and elemental. The kind of egotistical feeling he might be discomforted by later on, but right now made him feel ten feet tall.
When her thighs shook on either side of his head, he stopped changing it up and stuck with what was working, letting her grind against his face as she got to that peak. Her body clenched up, froze for a beautiful moment, then shuddered back to earth, twitching against his tongue and around his fingers. He stayed with her as her limbs fell wide against the bed, until she sighed and ran her fingers through his hair, and finally spoke. "Wow."
Yep. A God damn ten-foot-tall king, that's what he was.
He pushed himself up to lie next to her. She leaned in and licked his mouth, tasting herself, and his cock surged to extra-hard with a new rush of blood.
"You taste so good," he murmured.
She made a happy sound. "I bet you do, too." Leaning in, she licked his neck, a long, luscious swipe that ended just behind his ear. "Can I taste you, Owen?"
How had he gone thirty-seven years without knowing what it was to have her mouth, wet and hungry against his skin? He would never be the same. What did he taste like to her? “Lick me again,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his plea desperately honest.
“I’ll lick you all over.”
That thrilled him to his core. The thought of her tongue on his belly, her mouth on his cock. The wicked smile she might flash before she swallowed his length. She moved over him, her hair tickling his body as she used her mouth on his chest, his nipples, his lower belly. When she finally got to his belt, he didn’t stop her this time. She undressed him, then perched between his legs and wrapped her lips around his erection.
He’d never felt anything so lovely in his entire life. He’d never imagined anything so good as the playful way she used her tongue around his crown. It was hyperbole and truth at the same time. Owen liked sex all right, it felt good. But this wasn’t that. This was more, this was steeped in play and mischief and it felt profoundly, deeply intimate.
Warning bells should have been going off in his head. Instead there was a ticker tape parade.
But he didn’t want to come like this. Not right now. And Kerry must have read his mind, because she lifted her head. “Condom?”
He took care of it, under her careful and therefore erotic observation, and then she climbed on top. There was a moment just before she took the aching tip of him into her body when she paused and just looked at him, where she locked her gaze on his and held his attention. Ready? Oh yeah.
Then she sank down an inch, and Owen’s eyes rolled back in his
head. Slowly, Kerry rocked her hips, easing him into her. She was tight and hot, and took her time. Her breasts swayed as she rode him, and he reached for her. Her chest arched into his touch, her nipples hard as diamonds. She clapped her hands onto his, holding on to him as she sped up the pulse of her hips. The soft push of her thighs against his sides was driving him mad in the best way.
As tension built, he eased her down, so she could brace her hands on his shoulders, so her nipples were closer to his mouth—yes—and so he could hold on to her hips, still those soft fucking thighs, and take over.
He thrust into her from below, driving up off the bed as she trembled in his arms. His orgasm suddenly threatened to take over, no stopping it. “Touch yourself,” he growled. “Get yourself there.”
“I’m there,” she whispered, her breath panting to match his. He clamped one hand on her hip, buried the other in her hair, and swallowed her cries as he slammed his cock all the way into her one last time, burying himself deep in her gorgeous pussy as his climax spurted out of him.
Sex would never be the same.
Owen would never be the same. And he wasn’t fucking complaining. “Holy hell,” he rasped. “That was amazing.”
She kissed him, then kissed him again, before sliding off his body and nestling into his side. He grabbed a tissue and dealt with the condom, then hauled her back on top of him. The top of her head fit perfectly on his chest, and he breathed in the scent of her hair, fruity and vanilla. The heavier scent of sex hung on the air, and the two merged together, burning into his mind.
Her fingers slid over his skin, tracing the moon on his arm. He waited for the question—what’s the story here?—but it didn’t come. When she looked up at him, she smiled, a wild, joyous look. “I like the feel of your skin,” she said. “You’re strong.”
“Strong enough to hold you up in the shower.”
She sucked in a delighted breath and he rolled out of bed, then reached for her. She squeaked his name as he hauled her into his arms.
“Strong enough to carry you there, too,” he muttered as she buried her face in his neck. God, she felt good against him. Sweet and soft and warm.