All the Way (Hot Jocks #2)(39)

I shake my head, threading my fingers through her hair so I can guide her mouth back to mine. “We’re not broken, babe. We’re just human.”

At this, her hazy blue eyes meet mine and she looks at me so tenderly. “Can we go back to your bedroom now?”





14




* * *





Slow and Steady





Becca



There’s something different about tonight.

Maybe it’s the honesty we’ve given each other, combined with the electricity that pulses through me every time his fingertips brush across my skin. But lying here in Owen’s bed, dressed in only a pair of panties as he pulls me toward him, his mouth hungrily capturing mine, we’re both vulnerable. And nothing has ever felt so right.

Still, there’s a tiny bit of nervous energy fluttering in my chest, and it has everything to do with Owen’s sexual leaning. I’m not completely opposed to experimenting with his wilder sexual side, but tonight, I need things to be gentle. Comfortable. Sweet.

Easing back from our kiss, I push down the nervous feeling and ask the question that needs to be addressed. “Can we not do that kind of thing this time? The spanking and stuff?”

I hold my breath, and my chest tightens. What if he backs out now because I can’t give him what he wants? I don’t think I could handle that kind of rejection. Especially from him.

Owen tips my chin up and captures my gaze with serious, honest eyes. “Of course. That’s not what tonight is about. I want you to be as comfortable as possible.” Leaning forward, his lips barely brush over mine in a soft, airy kiss. “And that goes for everything. I want to make you feel good. So the second something feels wrong to you, say the word, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper, although it’s difficult for me to believe that anything with him could feel anything but completely perfect. I tug at the waist of his jeans, and the button comes undone. “This isn’t going to work if only one of us is naked, though,” I say, teasing him in an attempt to ease the tension between us.

It works. Owen chuckles, and the air in the room feels instantly lighter.

“Sounds like a plan.”

I give him one last squeeze through the denim of his jeans, earning me a sharp inhale and a smirk before he stands up and slides his pants to the floor. Since he doesn’t wear boxers, there’s no fabric to contend with—just a whole lot of Owen.

I take every second he gives me to soak in the unobstructed view of him.

In the dim light of his bedside lamp, shadows contour every muscle of his chiseled frame. If I didn’t know better, I would think I was ogling some male model in an underwear ad. But I’m not flipping through a magazine or catching a bit of a commercial—this is real life, and Owen Parrish is standing naked before me, looking at me like I’m good enough to eat. I can’t help but feel impossibly sexy when he looks at me like that. Without hesitation, I ease my panties down my legs and toss them over the side of the bed. Owen’s eyes track my movements and he’s almost panting with anticipation.

He rejoins me on the bed and pulls me toward him until I’m settled in his lap, my legs crossed behind his back. He never fails to impress me with how strong he is, the way he can put me exactly where he wants me and still kiss me so softly, like I could disappear into thin air.

But I can hardly focus on kissing him right now. His stiff length is nudged against my inner thigh, dangerously close to where I want him, and it’s the only thing I can focus on. I can’t resist rocking my hips against him, squeezing my legs against his back to pull him tighter against me.

He responds with a throaty groan, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling with desire. “Do you want to?”

It’s the question I’ve been waiting for since I first suggested our little deal.

I remember how nervous I was, reaching for euphemisms to spell out to him what I wanted. The thought of discussing anything sexual with my best friend felt so awkward back then that it was hard to even say it out loud. But now, with my chest pressed into Owen’s, our heartbeats syncing, it’s the easiest yes ever to fall from my lips.

With that, Owen lifts me off of him as easily as if I were featherlight, setting me on the bed beside him while he sheaths himself with a condom. Geez, he’s efficient at that. But then he’s back, leaning close, enveloping me with his scent and his body heat and all that firm muscle.

“We’ll take this slow, okay?” His fingers trace the curve of my cheek as his breath ghosts over my lips, teasing me with the promise of a kiss. “Just tell me what you need.”

“You,” I say on a sigh. “I need you, Owen.”

And thankfully, he gives me exactly what I need.

With a hungry kiss, he leans forward, pinning me beneath his broad frame momentarily before pulling back to brush my hair from my eyes. “You’re brave, Becca. You know that?”

I shake my head, a flush creeping across my cheeks. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I would.” The sparkle in his eyes cuts through the dim lighting of the room. “You’re the definition of brave. Courage isn’t about not being afraid. It’s being afraid and doing it anyway.”

The weight of his words hit me like a ton of bricks. “I’m not afraid, Owen,” I whisper, running my fingers along his stubble. “Not anymore. Not with you.”