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As soon as his mouth connects with mine, my lower lip trembles, and his tongue glides across it soothingly. He tastes exactly how I remember. And the theory of a horny teenager who had no one to compare him to goes right out the freaking window. Because I’ve kissed guys since Owen. And none of them compare to this. To Owen’s mouth. To his heat. To his calloused hands skimming up my arms and leaving goosebumps in their wake.
This backfired. This backfired hard.
Cupping my cheek, he angles my head, then urges me to open my mouth like a damn snake charmer. So I do it. And let out a whimper when his tongue slips against mine.
I was right. This is a very sexy, very dangerous tango. And I’m okay with letting him lead as long as it ends up with me spread out beneath him.
My breathing is staggered when he finally pulls away. His low groan is the only confirmation that he feels anything similar to the chaos wreaking havoc on my insides before he grumbles, “I’m going to regret that.”
“What?” I breathe, praying I heard him wrong.
With a soft smile, he presses another kiss to my lips. It’s more innocent. Less heated. But just as toe-curling as the first. When he pulls away, he explains, “That I promised I’d be patient. I thought a taste would curb my attraction, but I’m pretty sure I just put gasoline on a fire.”
I laugh before covering it with a cough in hopes of not tipping off any of our movie buddies in the room.
“I feel like I should add that I’m all for young and stupid if you’re game. I mean, I can go the determined and patient route if you need me to, but––”
“Will you guys stop talking?! You’re ruining the movie!” Grady and Turner yell.
“Sorry!” Owen and I return in unison like a couple of teenagers who’ve just been caught making out by our parents.
Oh, the memories.
But Owen doesn’t back away. His arm stays around the back of the couch, and he keeps me close. Like he’s afraid that if he gives me any space, I’ll come to my senses.
He’s probably right.
I don’t move away this time, though. Not yet.
I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.
But what a way to go.
13
Saylor
“So…what was that about?” Skye asks as soon as we walk into our apartment.
My keys jingle as they hit the counter. “Nothing.”
“Liar.” She grins.
“It was nothing,” I reiterate.
“Mm-hmm. Okay. Keep your secrets. For what it’s worth, I think he’s serious about treating you right. Then again, what do I know? I married an asshole who lied to me, then when I found out, he disappeared so….” She shrugs, then heads to the hall when I stop her.
“Hey, Skye?”
Turning back to me, she answers, “Yeah?”
“I’m really sorry about Liam. I know I’ve said it a thousand times, but I’m here for you, okay? I know that I’ve been dealing with work, and Owen, and everything else going on, but I’m serious. I’m here for you, and I’m sorry if I’ve seemed…distracted.”
“You haven’t seemed distracted,” she tsks before leaning her shoulder against the wall. “You’ve been living your life, Say, and that’s a good thing. That’s what I want for you. You should know that better than anyone. You saw Sway find Anthony. You saw me with Liam. And even though you were still hurting, you never once called us out for being distracted. You want what’s best for your sisters, and so do I. And I really think that Owen could be what’s best for you. I’ve just kind of been in pause mode since Liam disappeared, and that’s on me. But I’m happy to see you moving on with The Big O, even though I’m insanely jealous,” she adds with a wink.
“I’m not moving on––”
“Oh, so the little makeout session in the middle of the pod race with Anakin was just a way to pass the time?” she challenges.
