“He’s bummed about the All Star Game,” Easton says to me, looking at Owen talking to the others.
I turn to him. “He said they picked the best players.”
“Sure, he would say that. But I know he’s disappointed. He works his ass off.” Easton shakes his head. “It’s good that he’s here, though, and good that you’re here. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so chill.”
Pleasure curls in my belly. “Well, that’s good.”
“Yeah.” Easton takes a gulp of beer. “He’s pretty intense about his sport.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“Well, there goes Brando.” Easton nods toward the deck.
I follow his gaze to where Brandon is standing near the wooden deck railing, talking to a woman with pale blond hair wearing sexy denim cutoffs and a loose white shirt. Their posture is one of unmistakable flirting.
“There he goes?” I question.
“We knew he’d hook up with someone sometime during this trip.” He smiles ruefully. “He’s a…what’s a polite term? Ladies’ man?”
I laugh. “Yeah, I get it.”
* * *
Later, as Owen and I stroll through the lobby, both of us mellow and a little drunk, I ask him, “Are you disappointed you’re not at the All Star Game?”
His fingers tighten on mine briefly, reflexively. “Nah. Then I wouldn’t be here.”
“And neither would I. And I’m pretty happy I’m here right now.”
“I’m pretty happy about that, too. Also…” He kisses my nose. “Last night you were a star.”
“I was, wasn’t I?” I smile, remembering the rush of singing in front of an audience.
As we ride the elevator up, I check my phone to see if there’s anything from Cat. She’s sent me a photo of a bowl she made in pottery club. I message her back. Wow, that’s beautiful!
Inside the room, Owen closes the door and reaches for me. “Finally.”
I smile. “Finally.”
With a low laugh, he moves his mouth to my jaw, then to the side of my neck, sucking gently. My head lolls back as shivers run down my spine and my lower belly heats.
“Mmmm. Now you’ve done it.”
“I hope so.” He picks me up and carries me to the bed. His strength is a turn on. He lays me down on the bed as if I’m fragile, his eyes warm with admiration as he studies me.
Emotion swells in my chest.
He follows me down and our legs twine together as we kiss again, rolling over the bed with our mouths fused, my hands in his hair, his on my ass and my back. He plucks at the ties on my shoulders and the V-shaped bodice of my dress gapes. I brush his shirt off his shoulders, eager to see and feel him again. I love the texture of his skin, the way he smells—I could bury my nose in the side of his neck and just breathe him in for hours. He smells warm and familiar. I love the heat of his body and the size of his hands, and the way he touches me.
He works my dress down over my hips. Again, I’m not wearing a bra, just panties, which he leaves on me. “Pretty.” He fingers the pink lace.
I smile.
He gets rid of his jeans and briefs, and we’re both nearly naked again, kissing like we’re starved for each other. Like we can’t get enough. I don’t think I can. I’m as close to him physically as I can be, and it’s not close enough. I press my hips into his, rub my breasts on his bare chest, and he groans.
“Goddammit, you’re sweet.” He gathers my hair in his hands and stares into my eyes. “I’m losing my mind.”
“Me too.” I touch his face, running my fingers over his beard stubble, down his neck, along his strong shoulder. “Oh, me too.”
I glide my hand over his arm, lower to find his hip and squeeze the angular bone, then lower to the dark hair spreading at his groin. His cock is hard between us, and I’m wet and desperate for him. His size definitely matches the rest of him, and I want to admire the perfect shape of him all over again—the smooth crown, the defined ridge, the pattern of veins in the delicate skin over hard steel. I stroke him, then rub my thumb over the wet tip. “So beautiful,” I whisper, loving the feel of him in my palm—virile, hot, pulsing.
“Emerie.” He moves into my hand and lets out a low groan.
He slaps a hand out to fumble around for condoms, which we tucked into the drawer before leaving, knocks the phone off the hook, and gropes around to hang it back up. When it starts beeping, I start laughing.
“Fuck!” Finally, he hangs up, yanks open the drawer, and finds a condom. When he faces me, he’s laughing too. “Sorry. Did I kill the mood?”
“No.” I try to stop my giggles. When he kisses me, our mouths are smiling. Affection swells in my chest.
He rolls the condom on and moves back over me, his eyes glimmering in the faint light. When our eyes meet, and hold, I feel it—a connection of spirit, the shared humor a bond between us.
Oh hell. Our smiles fade as we both realize this is something…more. Something big. Something special.
He lowers his mouth to mine again, this time tenderly, exploring me, savoring me. This is how people fall in love, I think…with a shared understanding of someone’s essence, a joining of hearts and minds, and maybe souls? And bodies.
Rising onto his knees, he slides my panties down my legs. I bend my knees, primly pressed together, lifting them to help him, and he tosses the panties over his shoulder and flattens his big palms on my inner thighs to spread me. He studies me with hot eyes, and heat slides from my chest into my face.
“So beautiful.” One blunt fingertip grazes me between my legs. My clit pulses. “Want to make you come. Want to taste you again.”
“I have no objection,” I breathe out.
The corners of his lips quirk up and he leans down to put his mouth on me. It’s paradise…his tongue sliding over me, his thumbs parting me, his breath teasing me. He lays soft, sucking kisses on me, licks me so slowly, gently. I lift my hips to his mouth with greedy supplication and feel his smile.
One thick finger slides inside, then two. Air escapes my lungs as he curves his fingers and strokes a sensitive spot deep inside me. I cry out and clutch the duvet on either side of me, holding on tight in case I fly up into the air. His tongue laps at my clit, right where I need it. “Yes,” I gasp. “There. Right there…”
He keeps it up and tension coils sweetly, heat building. I squeeze and he groans. I tilt my hips, and he murmurs.
“I’m coming.” Like a tsunami, it rolls through me, shaking me. I shudder and convulse, feeling how slick I am around his fingers. “Oh God!” My head rolls on the pillows and then I reach for him, grab his head and lift it off me. “I can’t…”
He smiles, his lips shiny, then kisses my quivering belly. “Fuck, that was gorgeous.”
He climbs up over me and glides inside me. Gripping my calves, he pushes my legs up and back and fucks me, urgent, focused, watching me as he pumps in and out. The sensation is nearly too much, exquisitely beautiful almost to the point of pain. I watch his face too, so beautiful, the bed bouncing with his actions, soft gasps spilling from my lips. I squeeze around him and his face contracts, his mouth opening, and he gives one last hard thrust, holding himself deep inside me, so deep I almost can’t breathe. He shouts as he comes, hands tight on my legs. This man—big, strong, tough—is naked, exposed, unguarded. With me. Emotion floods me, and I reach for him as he releases my legs and falls over me, finding my mouth in long, lush tongue kisses.