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“You’re okay?” I just can’t help myself.
She pushes her shoulders back and nods like she was never not okay. “Yes.” With one last look at me, she turns and goes back into her office, closing the door behind her. I get the impression she intends on working late tonight.
I switch the computer off and tidy up the desk that was mine for two days. I then grab my purse and leave North Management.
Excitement fills me as I push through the front doors of the Lexington Avenue building. In three hours, I’ll be with Owen, and whereas this time yesterday I was trying to deny my attraction to him, today I can’t.
I want Owen just as much as he wants me.
10
Charlize
Iwear a red satin dress for our first date.
The dress barely reaches my knees, hugs all my curves, and drops low in the front with its slash neckline. The thin spaghetti straps are a little loose and I know they’ll likely annoy me later because at least one of them always slides off my shoulder repeatedly. But it is one of my favorites, and since I know Owen loves red too, I don’t hesitate to wear it.
I don’t bother with a bra tonight. The only reason I wore one to Poppy’s wedding was because my mother insisted. “Bras were created for a reason, Charlize.” Honestly, I can get away without one if needed, and tonight I am. It’s taken until today for my skin to fully recover from that god-awful bra I wore to the wedding. It wouldn’t be too soon if I never had to wear a bra again.
I’m still getting ready when Johnathon, Dylan’s doorman, calls to let me know Owen has arrived. I’ve gotten friendly with Johnathon since I’ve been staying here and have found him helpful in a variety of situations. “You can let him in,” I say, “but maybe can you stall him a little? I’m still getting ready for our date.”
“Got you,” he says.
He does a good job, but I’m the kind of girl who’s always running late, so I’m still not ready when Owen comes up.
“You’re early,” I say when I open the door to him.
He gives me a pointed look. “I was five minutes late thanks to traffic, and your doorman delayed me another five minutes. I am far from early.”
I barely hear a word he says. And I have no idea how I manage to keep my eyes glued to his when all I want to do is check out his body.
“Trust me, you’re early.”
Unable to stop myself, I move closer to him, almost completely closing the entire distance between us, and drop my gaze to look at him.
Owen has swapped the dark blue jeans he wore to work today for black jeans that fit themselves over his leg muscles so perfectly I may never be able to drag my eyes from them. He’s paired them with a white button down that he hasn’t tucked in, a black sweater, and brown boots.
My hand makes its way to his body all by itself, grasping a handful of his sweater. I lean in closer, inhaling that scent he wears that reminds me of my favorite candle. “You smell good. And you look good. I’m not sure it’s safe for you to wear these kinds of clothes around me. You should invest in some baggy attire. I think that’d be a safer option.”
He pulls me close and slides his hand through my hair. “Two days of not touching you has been hell,” he growls. His mouth crashes down onto mine and he reminds me of how skilled he is at kissing.
If I never kiss another man, it won’t matter because I’ve had Owen’s kisses. They are the absolute best in the world. I don’t even need to test that. All I need is to get lost in them to know they’re everything.
He kisses me for a long time. When he finally ends the kiss, he keeps hold of me and says, “You look beautiful. And I’m never investing in baggy attire if this attire gets that kind of reaction out of you.”
I snake my arm around him. “Is it bad that I’m not sure I can make it to dinner before ripping those jeans off you?”
“Fuck,” he rasps, bringing his mouth back to mine.
I kiss him while pulling him into the condo and closing the door behind us. I make quick work of getting his sweater off and then begin working on the buttons of his shirt. I’m not thinking about anything but getting him naked. Well, that, and getting his mouth on me in more ways than it already is.
Owen seems to have other ideas, though.
He pulls his mouth from mine as I begin work on his fourth button. His eyes are filled with raw desire as he says, “You really want to skip dinner?”
I finish with his fourth button. “Does that question even need answering?”
He takes hold of my hand, halting my progress down his shirt. “Once I start, I’m not stopping, Charlize. There may not be any food for a while if we skip dinner now.” His voice is filled with the same raw need as his eyes.
