Broken Beautiful Hearts(87)
Oh god.
His touch is gentle—slow and deliberate.
I can’t think.
Owen holds himself up with one arm, and from this angle his face is directly above mine.
I tug on the other strap of my bathing suit. “Take it off.”
“That’s not what this is about. I wasn’t trying—”
“I want you to take it off.”
“Are you sure?” He touches my cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I realize what he means …
He thinks I’m a virgin.
Why am I surprised? It’s the classic double standard. Guys can sleep with as many girls as they want, but girls are supposed to save themselves. But I’m not double standard compliant.
I push up onto my elbows. “I’m not a virgin. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“I was talking about your knee.”
Oh, right.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I love the way you say whatever you think. Come here.” He slides his arm behind my back, supporting my weight, as I loop my arms around his neck again.
I nip at his neck and work my way up to his ear, tracing the curve with my tongue. “I love this,” I whisper, letting my tongue slide into his ear.
“Shit, Peyton.” He groans. “What are you doing to me?”
Owen pulls down my bathing suit strap, leaving a trail of kisses in its place. He seems surprised when I slip my arms out of the straps. He looks down at the wet fabric clinging to my chest and watches the material inch lower when I inhale. He shifts between my legs, and every muscle in my body tenses.
He groans again. “You feel so good, Peyton. I want—” He hesitates. “We should stop.”
I look up at him. “What were you going to say before that?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“You said you wanted something.” I slide my hand between us and rest my palm against his stomach below his belly button, my fingers teasing. My hand drifts lower, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
“Tell me what you want, Owen.”
“I want to know what you feel like.” He brushes his thumb between my legs. “Here.”
My breath catches and I bite my lip. “Owen…”
He brings his mouth to my ear. “I want to know what it feels like to be inside you.”
The words hum through my body and I ache for him. “That’s what I want, too.”
Owen pulls back to look at me. “Are you sure? Because—”
“I’m sure.”
“Shit.” He buries his face in my neck. “We can’t. I don’t have anything.”
He means protection. “Not even in your wallet?”
“My wallet is at home. I forgot it this morning.”
“Wait.” I start to sit up, and my head hits Owen’s chin. “Sorry.”
“I’m okay.” He rubs his chin.
“I think I have something in my purse. In the locker.” I point down the hall.
Owen springs off the sofa. “What number?”
“Two ten.”
He bolts around the corner and I hear a crash.
“I’m okay,” he calls out.
I barely have time to catch my breath before he returns with my purse and my knee brace. I motion for him to hand me my bag. I lean over the front of the sofa and dump everything out on the floor. Owen sits next to the mess and watches me scatter the contents of my purse until I find the black pouch.
I hope it’s still in here.
“I found it!” I hold up the black foil packet.
Owen grins at me.
“What’s so funny?”
His eyes dart to my chest. “Nothing. I just like the view.”
I look down. I forgot to pull up the straps of my bathing suit before I leaned over, and I’m giving him an eyeful. “I hope you like the rest of the view just as much.”
Owen is still sitting on the floor, and he wraps his arms around my waist. “Is that a joke? I think the view is gorgeous. You are gorgeous. Every inch of you.”
Not every inch.
Without thinking, I put my hand on my knee to cover the scars.
Owen slides his fingers between mine and moves my hand away. Then he plants a soft kiss on each of the four scars around my kneecap. “Every inch of you.”
He eases me back down on the sofa and puts a pillow under my knee.
“It’s fine. Come here.” I tug on the waistband of his shorts.
“Hold on.” Owen reaches down and picks up something.
“I am not wearing my knee brace the first time we’re together.” This is so embarrassing.
“For me? Please?” He kisses my neck. “I won’t be looking at your knee. Trust me.”
“You seriously want me to wear it?” He nods and I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
Owen slips it on carefully and fastens the straps. He props up my leg and wraps my other leg around his waist. “I’ll make you forget you have it on.”
His eyes travel down my body, and I’m aching for him all over again.
He leans forward, still holding my leg around his waist, and kisses me slowly. He traces the top of my bathing suit, grazing my breasts with his palm. “Can I help you take this off?”