starts to lift up the hem of my dress.
Oh God. I can’t do this. I brush his hands away from the bottom of my dress and turn my neck so he doesn’t have easy access anymore.
“Actually, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’ve been in here awhile already. I should really go check on Charley.”
Owen’s inebriation has never stopped his ability to perform, so he’s hard as a rock. He isn’t going to be so easily sidetracked.
“What? Charley is fine. I left her with Marc. They’re probably doing the same thing in the bathroom next to us.” He forcefully grabs my hips and pulls me back against him, running his hands up the back of my thighs, trying to use his hands to part them as I’m bent over the sink.
No, no, no. I push back on him, which he could easily mistake as me pushing into his erection.
“Mmmm, yes, baby. Like that. Fuck . I always want you... Can’t get enough.”
I twist to pull out of his embrace and he almost falls face-first into the sink.
“What the...?” he says, shocked.
I walk toward the bathroom door as Owen straightens, looking completely confused.
“I’m actually not feeling so good. I think I’m going to take a taxi back. You can stay here with your friends. It’s okay.”
His face contorts and his brows draw together in confusion. I have never, in all the time I’ve known him, said no to sex with Owen. We’re always hungry for each other, always on the same page when it comes to wanting each other. It’s become a basic need for both of us.
He runs his fingers through his hair, looking lost and then pained as he adjusts himself in his pants. I move to the door and he follows me out into the club. I say goodbye to Travis and Lucy, smiling as best I can, but my smile fades when Owen moves toward me. When we make eye contact, I can tell that he is thoroughly confused. And maybe a little irritated. He says goodbye to his friends and trails behind me out to the street.
“I’m sorry about what happened in the bathroom,” he says as we start to walk back to the hotel. “I…I clearly misread you back there. One moment, you’re putting on a show for me on the dance floor, and the next, you’re distant.”
“I’m just not feeling well, Owen. It’s been a long day.” I rub my hands over my arms in an effort to keep warm.
He takes off his sport jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. I take it gratefully, giving him a nod, as we walk the rest of the way to the hotel in silence.
Walking through the hotel lobby to the elevator, there is an uncomfortable quietness between us. When we get onto the elevator, he places his hand on the small of my back and guides me in. It’s such a loving, comfortable gesture—one he’s done so many times, and tonight should be no different. In fact, if I hadn’t heard that comment at the club, right now, we’d be going at it in the bathroom.
When we get to our floor, he ushers me out of the elevator. We walk to the room, and as he opens the door for me, I hand him his sport jacket and make a beeline for the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I need some more alone time. I just want to get undressed, take my makeup off, and get in my pajamas. Sleep sounds like just what I need right now.
I quickly take off my makeup and brush out my hair. I find a T-shirt of Owen’s on the floor from earlier and unconsciously slip it over my head. I hate feeling like this. I’m angry and hurt. He has no idea why, and I don’t want to explain it. So we’re stuck in this limbo. He doesn’t deserve for me to not tell him what’s wrong, even if he is hurting me. He’s not a mind reader. But I’m irritated and bruised, and I just want to go to bed.
When I open the door to the bathroom, he is sitting on the bed, the covers pulled up just to his waist, his chest bare as he leans his back against the headboard. He’s waiting for me. And he’s gorgeous. I stop just outside the bathroom, trying to gather my wits. His sexiness is throwing off my
Oh God. I can’t do this. I brush his hands away from the bottom of my dress and turn my neck so he doesn’t have easy access anymore.
“Actually, I don’t think this is a good idea. I’ve been in here awhile already. I should really go check on Charley.”
Owen’s inebriation has never stopped his ability to perform, so he’s hard as a rock. He isn’t going to be so easily sidetracked.
“What? Charley is fine. I left her with Marc. They’re probably doing the same thing in the bathroom next to us.” He forcefully grabs my hips and pulls me back against him, running his hands up the back of my thighs, trying to use his hands to part them as I’m bent over the sink.
No, no, no. I push back on him, which he could easily mistake as me pushing into his erection.
“Mmmm, yes, baby. Like that. Fuck . I always want you... Can’t get enough.”
I twist to pull out of his embrace and he almost falls face-first into the sink.
“What the...?” he says, shocked.
I walk toward the bathroom door as Owen straightens, looking completely confused.
“I’m actually not feeling so good. I think I’m going to take a taxi back. You can stay here with your friends. It’s okay.”
His face contorts and his brows draw together in confusion. I have never, in all the time I’ve known him, said no to sex with Owen. We’re always hungry for each other, always on the same page when it comes to wanting each other. It’s become a basic need for both of us.
He runs his fingers through his hair, looking lost and then pained as he adjusts himself in his pants. I move to the door and he follows me out into the club. I say goodbye to Travis and Lucy, smiling as best I can, but my smile fades when Owen moves toward me. When we make eye contact, I can tell that he is thoroughly confused. And maybe a little irritated. He says goodbye to his friends and trails behind me out to the street.
“I’m sorry about what happened in the bathroom,” he says as we start to walk back to the hotel. “I…I clearly misread you back there. One moment, you’re putting on a show for me on the dance floor, and the next, you’re distant.”
“I’m just not feeling well, Owen. It’s been a long day.” I rub my hands over my arms in an effort to keep warm.
He takes off his sport jacket and wraps it around my shoulders. I take it gratefully, giving him a nod, as we walk the rest of the way to the hotel in silence.
Walking through the hotel lobby to the elevator, there is an uncomfortable quietness between us. When we get onto the elevator, he places his hand on the small of my back and guides me in. It’s such a loving, comfortable gesture—one he’s done so many times, and tonight should be no different. In fact, if I hadn’t heard that comment at the club, right now, we’d be going at it in the bathroom.
When we get to our floor, he ushers me out of the elevator. We walk to the room, and as he opens the door for me, I hand him his sport jacket and make a beeline for the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I need some more alone time. I just want to get undressed, take my makeup off, and get in my pajamas. Sleep sounds like just what I need right now.
I quickly take off my makeup and brush out my hair. I find a T-shirt of Owen’s on the floor from earlier and unconsciously slip it over my head. I hate feeling like this. I’m angry and hurt. He has no idea why, and I don’t want to explain it. So we’re stuck in this limbo. He doesn’t deserve for me to not tell him what’s wrong, even if he is hurting me. He’s not a mind reader. But I’m irritated and bruised, and I just want to go to bed.
When I open the door to the bathroom, he is sitting on the bed, the covers pulled up just to his waist, his chest bare as he leans his back against the headboard. He’s waiting for me. And he’s gorgeous. I stop just outside the bathroom, trying to gather my wits. His sexiness is throwing off my
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