Page 22 of Owen

“And I have stretch marks, wibbly bits, and a C-section scar. It’s not attractive. And you’re like…” I motion to his body. “Carved from marble. How is that possible?” I can’t resist reaching out and touching his sinewy abs, making his pecs twitch under my touch, inwardly mad at myself for not spending more hours in the gym. It’s taken me eleven months to shed my pregnancy weight, and I still have more to lose.

With a soft voice, he quashes my worries. “I couldn’t care less about any of that shit, but keep your clothes on if it makes you feel better.” Reaching out, he runs his thumb under my eye, then the other. “Your mascara is running.”

“Do I look like a panda?” I must look disheveled. Soaked, matted hair, smudged makeup, and my green lace dress stuck to my body.Fantastic.

“You look like a beautiful panda,” he says honestly. “Tell me, Jade, when was the last time you felt carefree, did something without having to think about Poppy, and had a little fun?”

I can’t think straight as he pushes my wet hair off my face with his large but tender fingertips.

Trying desperately to answer the question he’s just asked, it suddenly dawns on me as the memory comes into view. “I went skydiving.”

“How long ago?” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

“Three years,” I say quietly. I can’t believe it’s been that long.

His eyes crinkle at the sides with humor. Knowing he’s made me realize it’s been years since I had even the slightest bit offunoutside of work.

“Three years,” he repeats in shock.

“I need to get out more,” I confess, my voice strained. Suddenly, I forget my sadness, distracted by everything about the gorgeous man before me who is pulling me toward him. Curling his fingers around the back of my neck, causing all the tiny hairs across my body to stand on end.How does he do that?

“You’re out now,” he whispers, leaning down, millimeters from his lips brushing over mine.

“I am,” I whisper back, silently wishing he would kiss me already.

“I want you to have fun, and I want to be the one you have it with, Jade, and for some fucked up, crazy reason, I want to kiss you so damn much.” He buries his fingers into my wet hair at the nape of my neck. “I feel so drawn to you. It’s some sort of weird shit I can’t explain.”

Holy freaking hell.

“I want to kiss you, too,” I confess, the strange feeling that part of me knows him already filling my chest again.

It’s just sexual chemistry, Jade. Stop making it something it isn’t.

I close the distance, grab his waist and pull him toward me, then press his lips to mine.

Billions of sparks burst through my body, illuminating every dark spot I didn’t know existed. The sensation of his mouth slanting over mine makes me moan. He tastes like wine and cologne as our tongues collide together and for a moment, I can’t ever imagine wanting to kiss anyone else ever again.

The soft blond whiskers of his beard tickle my chin, a feeling I’m not familiar with. The three men I’ve ever been withhave been in the Air Force and were clean-shaven with short back and sides haircuts. But Owen, well, he’s all floppy hair and bristly scruff, and I relish in his uniqueness; it’s new and exciting.

Controlled, he takes his time, exploring my mouth, his kiss softer than I imagined.

My free hand moves up his arm, to his shoulder, then back down around his firm waist, pulling him closer to me.

He takes this as an invitation to do the same.

Our kiss deepening, I sigh, feeling blissed out. No longer caring about my dress floating to the surface. Our slow kiss goes on forever and bleeds into my soul, flooding my senses, making me tremble.

His bare, hard cock presses against my stomach, and I gasp.

“Take my dress off,” I sigh between our heated kisses.

Panting, Owen pulls back to look at me, as if he is reading my face for any trace of doubt.

I glance down into the water, frustrated that I can’t see his cock because the fabric of my floating dress blocks my view.

I want to see him. All of him. “Please,” I beg.

“You sure?”

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