Holy. Shit.
Is it finally about to happen?
Is Owen Brooks about to kissme?
“There is?”
His eyes drop to my mouth like they’re about to be his favorite meal.
“Yeah,” he replies, his tone husky. “It’s fucking killing me.”
I clench my thighs together as my core swirls with need.
This new, reckless version of me—the one I barely recognize—steps forward before my brain can stop her.
“Then do it,” I challenge.
His body freezes as he pulls back and arches a brow in question—his final way of asking for approval.
“Do it, Owen.”
I don’t care how desperate I sound.
Iamfucking desperate.
And who knows if I’ll ever feel this bold around him again?
Ineedthis. I need his lips on mine more than I’ve ever needed anything. I’m dying a slow death here.
Owen’s shoulders loosen, the tension draining away as if he’s been waiting all his life for this moment. His eyes darken as one of his hands slides into my hair, the other curling around the back of my neck.
“Jesus, Meadow,” he exhales, jaw flexing. “Fucking finally. Come here.”
The noise of the club falls away as he pulls me to him and slams his lips to mine.
There’s no gentle build-up. No sweet, shy first kiss.
It’s raw and hungry, our lips becoming one as Owen claims my mouth.
He groans when my hand sinks into his hair, my fingers threading through his golden locks as if he might disappear. God, I can’t get enough of that low, guttural sound coming from his mouth. I want to forever be the reason he makes it—again and again and again.
I literally melt into him as the kiss deepens, my weight resting against his muscular chest. When his hot tongue brushes against mine, it sends my heart into a frenzy.
He tastes like a mixture of rum, salt, and mint—sweeter than the day we’ve shared wrapped up into one dizzying breath. Every lick and nibble goes straight to my head, intoxicating me more than any drink ever could.
There simply aren't words to describe the way he’s kissing me.
It’s messy and desperate, our teeth bumping as he devours me, barely giving either of us a second for air. He kisses me like he’s been holding himself back for years—like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted.
One kiss is all it took, and I’m done for.
I’m never coming back from this.
There’s just no way it could ever be better than this.
I can’t help but whimper against his mouth when he bites down on my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth. Heat simmers in my lower belly as wetness pools between my thighs.
I’m so lost in his lips that I don’t even realize he’s moving us off the dance floor until my back hits the wall with a soft thud. He plants one hand beside my head, pinning me to the wall while the other dives into my hair, tugging me impossibly closer.
