Page 122 of Wish You Were Mine
I gasped softly as he raised me, my legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. He caught me beneath my thighs, steady and sure, as my back pressed against the cool wall of the pantry.
And then he leaned into me.
Every inch of his torso pressed tight against every inch of me.
It was overwhelming in the best way.
His mouth moved against mine with a kind of hunger I felt down to my bones. Like he’d been starving for this. For me.
I couldn't breathe.
Didn’t want to.
My fingers curled against his back, digging into the muscles there, feeling the shift and tension of him beneath my palms. Then he deepened the kiss, his lips trailing along my jaw, my throat, until he found that spot just beneath my ear that made my breath catch and my eyes flutter shut.
A sound escaped me. A soft whimper I didn’t have time to be embarrassed about.
“Lucy,”he breathed, rough and low, like it physically hurt him to hold back. His forehead brushed mine. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
But I didn’t. The last thing I wanted was for him to stop when I’d been dreaming of this for so many weeks.
So, I clutched him tighter, silently telling him I was right there with him. And when he slid the sleeve of my dress off my shoulder, baring the slope of skin beneath, I still didn’t stop him.
He kissed me there—slow, reverent—then let his mouth drift lower, brushing the sensitive skin just above the neckline of my dress. When he sucked gently, a rush of heat bloomed low in my stomach, and my legs suddenly went weak.
It felt so good—his mouth on my skin, warm and intent, like he was memorizing the taste of me. But it wasn’t just how he touched me. It was how he wanted me. Like I was something rare. Something to savor. Like I mattered.
And I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed being seen like that. A lump formed in my throat, unexpected and aching,because it had been a long time since anyone had looked at me as more than just a warm body, an object to play with until they grew tired of me.
I clung to his shoulders, trying to stay upright, but my legs gave out, and my back hit the wall with a soft thud. Owen’s arm shifted quickly to steady me, but in the scramble, his elbow clipped the pantry light switch.
The bulb overhead flickered once…then went out, plunging us into darkness. Only a sliver of ambient light spilled in from the kitchen, casting just enough glow to catch the outline of his jaw and the glint in his eyes as they searched mine.
He started to reach up, maybe to fix it.
But I stopped him with a whisper, “Just leave it.”
37
OWEN
Lucyand I were pressed together, her back against the wall, my hands firm on her waist. The faint light from the kitchen spilled in behind me, casting her in a soft silhouette. And still, I couldn’t catch my breath.
This girl.
I’d spent so many nights imagining what it would feel like to have her in my arms again. But my memory hadn’t done her justice. Not even close.
Because kissing Lucy wasn’t just electric or intoxicating—it was otherworldly. Like time slowed down just to give me this moment. Like everything else in my life had been in grayscale until she touched me.
After weeks of pretending we were just friends—of stuffing down every glance, every brush of her hand that made my heart beat faster—she was finally here. With me. Her lips swollen from our kiss, her body molding to mine like it was the only place she was ever meant to be.
And I was coming apart at the seams.
I didn’t just want her. Ineededher. Not in a fleeting way. Notlike a fix to take the edge off. I needed her in a way that made it hard to think straight. Hard to remember why we ever told ourselves this was off-limits.
I’d convinced myself a moment ago that this would be enough. That I’d come out on the other side with the craving dulled.
But being this close? Wrapped around her in the dark?
