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He nods. “I’m going to crack that bottle of wine. Do you want a drink?”
I smile. “Yes, please.”
I turn to go into the bathroom, but Owen reaches for my hand and pulls me to him. Circling one arm around me, he rests his hand on my ass while he kisses me. He steals more of my breath and a whole lot of my attention when he lets my lips go, presses a finger to the skin behind my left ear, and murmurs, “You also have a tiny birthmark here.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Now you do.” He brings his mouth to my ear. “And it’s sexy as hell.”
I’m still processing all this when he lets me go and exits the bedroom to get the wine.
I did not come home to New York to look for a man.
I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t.
But this energy between us is fire and it’s undeniable.
I take a deep breath.
This is one night only.
Some sex and some fun.
I refuse for it to be anything more than that.
4
Charlize
Pancakes.
That’s what I wake thinking about.
Blueberry and lemon pancakes to be specific because that’s what I’m ordering for breakfast. Well, it’s one of the things. When I insisted on perusing the in-room dining menu at two a.m. after Owen fucked me for the third time, I had trouble choosing between the pancakes, the eggs benedict, and the avocado sourdough toast. I spent a good ten minutes going over the options before Owen took the menu from me and announced we’d be ordering all three plus the smoked salmon bagel for him. That was right before he pulled me into his arms, kissed my shoulder, and told me to get some sleep.
I’m not sure I intended on spending the entire night with him. But here I am, our bodies pressed together with one of my legs over his, an arm draped over his chest, and my thoughts running wild about pancakes and the sex we had last night.
It was the best sex of my life, and I’m both happy about that and annoyed.
I mean, once a girl’s had such great sex, how is she supposed to go on without it again?
Last night may have been a monumental error in judgment.
“Good morning,” Owen murmurs, bringing his hand to rest on my arm and cutting in on all my thoughts.
“How do you still smell so good?” I look up at him, mapping his morning face and storing it for future reference. I may not plan on sleeping with him again, but a girl can save memories for later use. “Did you get up during the night and put on more cologne?”
His lips pull up at the ends. “I didn’t leave this bed once. I wasn’t game to.”
“Why not?”
“I got the distinct impression from you last night that convincing you to see me again may prove difficult. Once I had you in my arms, I didn’t want to let you go in case you make good on that.”
“So, what, you just plan on not letting me go?”
“I haven’t devised a solid strategy yet, but that one’s tempting.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to have to let me go when breakfast arrives. And speaking of breakfast, you need to order it. I’m famished.”
