Owen’s arm instinctively tightens around me when I shift to look at him.
Mine.
For the rest of this week, you’re mine.
The words he muttered after he’d lifted me back onto his lap coil around my heart.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and tilt my head up to study him.
He looks so young like this, his lips slightly parted as the sun makes his tousled hair look even more golden. He lost his shirt sometime during the night, leaving his bare chest glistening like a Greek god beneath the morning light.
Staring at Owen is like gazing directly into the sun. He’s so beautiful that he’s almost painful to look at. Too perfect to be real, yet I’m here in his arms, watching his chest rise and fall with easy breaths.
Nothing about last night feels temporary. Nothing about this week feels like an accident.
Now that I know Owen has been feeling the same way about me, this all feels inevitable.
And even though I was the one who suggested we not worry about our friendship for the rest of the week, I can't help but imagine returning to our stale office, pretending I haven’t memorized the taste of his lips or know the sounds he makes when he comes.
Lost in my own head, I almost miss the moment Owen's lashes begin to flutter against his cheeks. His sea-green eyes open gradually, adjusting to the bright room.
He blinks once, twice, clearing away the sleep before his gaze settles on me. The corners of his mouth lift in a slow, elated smile when he makes eye contact with me.
“Morning,” he murmurs, voice husky.
“Morning,” I smile back.
My spine tingles with awareness as his fingers drift along my waist, pressing light circles into my skin.
I trace my fingertip along the edge of his collarbone and chew on my bottom lip, contemplating my next sentence.
“Crazy movie last night, huh?” I ask, a hint of humor in my tone.
His chest shakes with a light scoff. "Pretty sure neither of us knew what the hell was going on."
"Oh, right," I drawl out sarcastically. "You hadotherentertainment in mind."
He arches an eyebrow and flashes me a wicked grin that causes my stomach to flip.
"Don't act like you didn't prefer my idea of entertainment." His voice is filled with gravel, as if the memory is affecting him just as much as me.
"Oh, Ithoroughlyenjoyed it,” I scoff. My fingers trail down his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken beneath my touch. “I liked it more than I should probably admit.”
"Good,” he chuckles, his hand skimming up my back with exquisite slowness. “I’d be offended if you didn’t enjoy it as much as I did.”
My breath catches when his long fingers splay across my ribs, stopping just beneath my breast.
His expression shifts as his playfulness morphs into something more vulnerable.
He leans in closer until I can feel his breath feather against my lips.
"Seriously, though," he whispers, eyes searching mine. "Are you okay? I know last night was a lot—“
"It was incredible,” I cut him off, not giving either of us a second to doubt it. "I'm more than okay, Owen. I’m—“
Before I can get another word out, Owen presses his lips to mine in a kiss so achingly tender it makes my eyes sting. When he pulls back, the tension in his shoulders eases as he gazes back at me with a hopeful expression.
I briefly close my eyes when his lips brush my temple, lingering there.
