“Why are you so upset?” I ask, taken aback. “I was just making sure.”
Owen’s eyes are wild. “Because it’s fucking frustrating when I know we’re good and I think you know too, but then you ask things like that. You make me feel like I’m not doing enough to make you feel secure. What am I doing wrong? What can I do better?”
“Nothing, Owen. You’re amazing. That’s not it,” I insist. “I just get worried.”
“Don’t.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Well, make it that easy because for me, it’s cut-and-dried. I love you. Completely.” He takes me by the back of the neck and pulls me to him. His eyes burn into mine, and my stomach does flips at the pure animal possessiveness that’s in his eyes. “I want you here. I want us. Believe me. Trust me. Know this, Angie, because it’s real.”
I’m breathless as our lips meet. His kiss is hungry, and I match it, just as desperate for him. He breaks the kiss suddenly, pulling me to my feet. He takes me by my hand and leads me into the house and to his room.
Or our room.
Once I’m inside, he pushes me into the door, covering my body with his. Our lips meet in a heated embrace. I love this side of him. The possessive, hungry side. He slides his hands up my thighs into the sundress I’m wearing, and with one tug, my panties are gone. I tear my mouth from his, gasping as he takes my pussy in his hand, squeezing it and dipping his thumb between my lips. He cups my breast through my dress, finding my clit with his thumb, massaging it as we kiss and our tongues play. I love when he’s rough, and I love his touch. It’s all so fucking good. It’s hard to breathe when he has me like this. And when his hand moves from my breast to my neck, I arch into him while he squeezes me with his large hand. His thumb is working overtime, and within seconds, my release comes slamming into me out of nowhere. I cry out his name, and then I collapse against the door, limp. His lips caress my cheek, moaning softly.
“Someone wanted that,” he whispers against my heated skin. “Or I’m just extraordinarily good at making you come.”
“Both. It’s both.”
He chuckles against my temple as I gather my wits. I swallow, my body still pulsating as he tries to kiss me. Instead, though, I turn us so now he’s against the door. His eyes widen, and a slow, naughty grin moves across his lips. “Fuck, you are so hot.”
I trail my teeth along his jaw to his neck while I pull his athletic shorts over his thighs. As I push them down, I lower to my knees as his cock springs out at me. I look up at him and grip him in my fist, my body burning for him. As slowly as I can, I slide my tongue along the length of him. His breath comes out in spurts and hisses. God, he’s so hot. I wrap my tongue around the head of his cock and squeeze his velvet skin and repeat all the motions over and over again. I’m rewarded with all his yummy sounds. He squeezes the back of my neck with one hand while the other holds on to the doorknob for dear life.
“Baby, I want to finish inside you.”
I’ve found he doesn’t like to come in my mouth. He’d rather be inside me, and honestly, I’m not upset by that. I love pleasing him, but who’s really a fan of come in their mouths? Not me. I suck him hard, making a popping noise before I let him go and stand, turning and pressing my ass into him. We usually use condoms, but I’m on the pill—and on a mission to make him come. He growls in my ear as he pushes me forward so that my hands go to my knees. He then guides himself into me from behind with one thrust. He takes my hip in one hand and my ribs in the other before he starts ramming into me with such need. Each thrust is beautiful, deliriously hard, and I’m on cloud nine. I love how he grips me, his fingers biting in my skin, and the sounds we make when we make love.
His thrusts slow, he makes one final push, my name filling the room with a loud growl, and then he stills as I gasp for breath. My heart is pounding as he throbs inside me. He reaches for me by cupping my neck and bringing me up against his chest. He takes my jaw in his hand and turns my head before kissing me hard on my lips. When we part, we’re both gasping for air as our eyes dance together widely.
“You think I don’t want this? Look how great we are together. It isn’t just in bed, Angie. We’re great.”
I nod. “I know. I agree.”
“Then stop stressing. All I want is your love.”
“You got it,” I promise, and he kisses me once more. He wraps his arms around my stomach, my dress bunching up a bit, and I have to fight the urge to pull it back down. I’ve gotten really good at hiding my stomach from him, but I know if I try to fix my dress, he’ll realize he hasn’t seen it. I haven’t gotten completely naked for him, and I do everything to distract him from that. It’s the only part of me I can’t allow him to see. It’s so full of stretch marks, and it looks like a lump. Yes, I’ve lost weight, but my stomach just isn’t appealing. With me moving in and us living life, I can’t chance my stomach scaring him off. No matter how confident I am in our love or how intense our lovemaking is or how great our vibe is together, I just can’t love my stomach.
So why would he?
Chapter Thirty
Owen
* * *
Fucking hell, I can feel the apprehension rolling off Angie in waves.
She’s so nervous, I’m nervous, and I have nothing to worry about. Her parents are going to love her like they always have, they’re going to love me, and they’ll love us. I’m not even concerned that it could go bad, because it won’t. Angie’s family is great, but even though she knows this, she’s a ball of nerves. She tried on seven different outfits before she decided on a cute flowy skirt and tank. She pulled up her hair into a sleek ponytail and did her makeup. I had to talk her out of the jean jacket since it’s almost summer, but no matter how much I tell her she’s gorgeous, I don’t think she believes it. It drives me insane how, after all these weeks, she still does not see how perfect she is.
My only hope is that her family will help her realize this.
The Paxtons got in with my parents around noon. I went to lunch with my parents since I knew we would be going to dinner with hers. Angie has to work until four, so we plan to have another lunch tomorrow as a group, and then my parents want to have breakfast with Angie tomorrow while I’m in a meeting. I expected her to be nervous about that, but she isn’t. She probably has to get through seeing her parents first. My biggest concern is that I’m supportive enough. I feel as if I’m not even helping, with how frantically she’s bouncing her knee.
“Did you eat with your meds this morning?”
She nods and gives me a weak smile. “I did and then again after my workout.”
I kiss the back of her hand. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“I know,” she says. Though, I don’t think either of us believes her. “Are you sure I look okay? Maybe I should have worn jeans to hide my legs—”
“Are you talking bad about my favorite body in the world?”
She gives me a dry look. “I’m not in the mood to play around.”
“I’m not playing,” I say simply. “You’re perfect, Pax.”