I stand from the bed and pad across the polished wooden floor before twisting the knob on the bedroom door. The moment it swings open, a mouthwatering smell hits me.
Wow, that smells heavenly.
I step into the shared living area, my eyes adjusting to the bright cast of light from a floor lamp near the dining table.
Owen stands beside it, unpacking two large takeout containers from brown paper bags. He’s changed out of histravel clothes, and the new outfit is a personal attack. An experiment he’s running to test my patience. I just know it.
He’s wearing loose athletic shorts and a gray T-shirt that stretches across his muscular chest and shoulders. His feet are bare, and for some reason, they’re turning me on, too.
I’ve never had a thing for feet, but just like everything about Owen, his are perfection.
Listen to yourself, Meadow.
Get it together, you sick freak.
My gaze has a mind of its own, drifting lower as my heart palpitates, bouncing out of control at the view.
Owen’s shorts leavenothingto the imagination.
His thick cock is outlined behind the thin cotton, not even hard, and still looking fucking massive. Christ, that thing would destroy me. Maybe it’s a good thing that Owen would never go for me because I’m not sure I could handle all of…thatwithout breaking in half.
My core clenches at the disgraceful visuals flying around in my mind.
I drag my stare back up before he realizes I’m having a full-on conversation in my head about his dick.
As if that weren’t enough, his eyes roam down my body at the same time. I swear I see a hint of possessive heat flare in his pine-green eyes before he quickly schools his expression. Just the thought that Owen likes what he sees has every nerve ending in my body thrumming.
It’s then that I realize what I’m wearing…
I’m in a pair of tiny sleep shorts that barely cover my ass and an old, oversized T-shirt with no bra. My nipples stand at full attention against the thin fabric, practically waving hello at him.
Perfect.
Love that for me.
I cross my arms over my chest, embarrassed at how easily my body betrays me.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Owen finally mutters, voice low and amused.
“I—” my voice comes out rough, so I clear my throat and try again. “I can’t believe I slept that long. What time is it?”
“Almost eight,” he answers. “You were out cold. I knocked once to see if you were alive, but didn’t want to be a weirdo and open the door. I was giving you thirty more minutes before I busted down the door.”
“I appreciate that,” I chuckle. “I guess I needed the sleep.”
He gestures toward the table. “I figured you’d be hungry when you woke up, so I ordered from the resort restaurant. Steak nachos and a turkey avocado club. I wasn't sure what you would want, so I thought we could split both.”
My stomach answers for me with an obnoxiously loud growl.
“Sounds like I guessed right,” he grins.
“You’re a saint,” I groan in pleasure, stepping closer as the scent of melted cheese and fresh bread fills my lungs. “This smellsamazing.”
We sit across from each other at the small table, wasting no time ripping open the plastic containers that house our dinner. Seeing what’s inside the boxes feels like opening up a treasure chest. I swear, a phantom light pops out as my eyes feast upon our meal.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry in my entire life.
The nachos are piled high with steak, cheese, jalapeños, and guac. The sandwich is stacked with turkey, avocado, bacon, and crisp lettuce.
