AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t want your sympathy,” he says. I feel like I’m seeing Owen for the first time now—I’m seeing all his scars and bumps and bruises. All his pain and suffering. His outer shell is so shiny and so tough, I’d wager there are few people who ever get to see him like this. “I...I know I should have trusted you to handle yourself back there. But I’m not good at letting go when I think someone I care about might get hurt.”
“You care about me?” My gut is filled with swirling, conflicting emotions. I’ve never felt like this before, not with anyone.
“Of course I do, we’re friends.” He cringes as my face drops. “Fuck. This is why I didn’t want to go there with you. Why I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m damaged goods.”
Even in all of this, he’s still worried about me. Sure, I’m pissed that he charged in and tried to act like I was a damsel in distress. But I get it. I get him more than I ever have before.
The worst part of it is, Iwanthim more than ever before.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Owen
ILOOKAROUNDthe kitchen and realise I’m standing in the kind of place I would never own. Marble countertops, gold hardware, custom cabinetry. Expensive coffee machine. There’s a painting hanging in the kitchen and a small chandelier above our heads.
A fucking chandelier in the kitchen.
I loathe the idea of being rich because it’s the easiest thing to blame for that night. If we’d never had money—if my mother hadn’t been wearing those diamonds—I might still have my parents. My little brother, who’d annoyed the shit out of me when we were kids, I’d give anything to get him back. And Lillian...
Hannah looks at me with her big brown eyes and those long silky lashes. Compassion pours off her, because that’s what she does—she cares. I don’t want her to care. I don’t want her to hug me and tell me everything will be okay. Because it’s not okay.
It’s never going to be okay.
But the second her hand comes to my chest, it’s like the demons in my head go quiet for the first time in years. She holds eye contact, unblinking. So sincere I almost have to turn away.
“I want to make you feel better,” she says.
“My problems can’t be solved by fucking,” I say. Damn, if only the people who’d called me a player and a lady-killer could hear me now.
But that’s the thing,thisis me. The person that I haven’t let anybody see...except her.
“But they can’t be made worse, right?” Her hands glide up my chest and she presses closer. Her hips are flush with mine, and when she rises onto her toes, her whole body rubs up against mine. I’m hard in an instant, my mind swinging like a pendulum between what I want and what I know is right. “Maybe blowing off some steam will do you good.”
“What happened to one night?” I turn us around and lift her up onto the kitchen countertop. Sliding my hands up her thighs, I part her legs. She’s wearing tight black jeans and a pretty silk blouse that’s the inky colour of the sky at night. She’s got this glossy stuff on her lips that makes it look like she’s been sucking on a red icy pole andthatmakes me think of how she sucked my cock after having that cold water in her mouth.
“I wanted one night to be enough.” Her eyes are hooded now, as I rub my hands up and down her legs, getting so close to the sweet spot between them. “I’d hoped that if I gave in, then I’d feel satisfied and...”
“And?”
“It’s only made me want you more.”
“Hannah...” I rest my forehead against hers.
“Don’t feed me that bullshit about me falling in love with you. I’m in control of that and I won’t let it happen.” She nails me with a confident stare.
“So it’s nothing to do with me being a sap and pouring my heart out?” I know she’s only saying this stuff for my benefit...but it works.
“Nope. You’re hot, that’s all.” A wicked smile curves on her lips. “I can gag you if it’ll make you feel better.”
“You’re the one who’s always yappin’. MaybeIshould gag you.” I lower my mouth down to hers and she tilts her face up, inviting me closer.
“Maybe you have to make me feel so good I can’t speak.”
Challenge accepted. I kiss her hard, drawing her to the edge of the kitchen counter so I can stand between her legs. I lean into her, my cock almost bursting behind the fly of my jeans. Underneath the soft material of her blouse, she’s bare except for a tiny scrap of lace masquerading as one of those soft bra-things. I like it—no hooks. My palm cups her breast and I rub in slow circles, kissing down the side of her neck. There’s a softthumpas her head lolls back against the kitchen cabinet and a delightedhmmas I find her hardened nipple with my thumb.
“You make the best sounds.” I peel the blouse over her head and she lifts her arms without me asking. The soft bra is next, and her rosy nipples beg for my mouth. “So sexy.”
“It’s hard not to make sounds when you’re doing that.” Her fingers drive through my hair, holding my head at her breast. “Although I had a guy once tell me I was too loud.”
