“Thank God,” he exhales, “because I can't pretend last night didn't happen. I don't want to go back, Meadow."
My pulse is a frantic drum beneath my skin.
"Back where?" I ask.
His fingers find a lock of my hair, tucking it gently behind my ear. The simple intimacy of it nearly undoes me.
"Back to pretending I don't want you. Acting like I don't need you more than just a friend."
My heart stops for a beat, hope and terror warring inside me. I push myself up on one elbow, my eyes darting between his.
I swallow down my nerves before voicing my biggest fear.
"What if…” I start. “What if we forget how to act normally around each other? What if we can't go back to being us when we get home?”
An easy smile lifts one corner of his mouth as he catches my wandering hand and presses a kiss to my palm.
"Then good,” he rasps. “I don't want normal, not with you. Not anymore."
His words melt through me like honey, sweet and promising. I lean down, my mouth a breath away from his, when a sharp knock rattles from the door.
We both turn our heads toward the sound and freeze.
Another knock.
"Housekeeping!"
"Great timing," Owen groans before stealing another quick kiss.
"I've got it," I whisper against his lips.
Owen shifts, running his fingers through his messy hair as I unwrap myself from the blanket, stand from the couch, and pad toward the door on bare feet.
The housekeeper offers a polite smile, extending fresh towels with the quiet assurance she'll return later for a full cleaning. I murmur appreciation as the door gently shuts behind her.
When I turn back around, my eyes go wide as my mouth hangs open.
Owen is standing against the wall with his arms crossed over his bare chest, devouring me with his gaze as if I'm his fantasy come to life.
Sunlight streams through the windows, outlining his silhouette and illuminating every sculpted plane of his body.
We stand there for what feels like minutes, Owen never moving a muscle as he takes me in. My bones feel like putty beneath his gaze.
"What?" I finally ask, my voice barely audible as his gaze roams down my body, silently undressing me.
"Nothing,” he shakes his head, flashing me a sexy smirk. "Just trying to get used to this."
I chew on my bottom lip, feeling like a spotlight is shining down on me as he devours me with his eyes.
"This?"
He glides toward me with predatory grace, each step deliberate. When his palms find my hips, and he pulls me into him, I inhale deeply, savoring the familiar trace of cinnamon and leather.
"This," he repeats, his strong hands sliding beneath my thighs as he lifts me effortlessly.
My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as his thick erection presses against my core, making my thighs tremble with need around him.
"Waking up to you," he continues, his lips brushing mine with each word.
