He wiggled his eyebrows. “Don’t worry. You’ll survive.” He tossed one leg over the bike, scooted forward, and took her arm. “Push the skirt up your thighs and climb on, baby.”
She did as he suggested, glancing around to make sure no one was looking. It was nearly obscene how high she had to lift her dress in order to be able to spread her legs around the seat, but she managed, and then she set her foot where he pointed and quickly swung her leg over.
Owen reached back, grabbed her hands, and wrapped them around his torso. “Hold on tight.”
She didn’t respond. She couldn’t. All her attention was on her sex now pressing against his ass with no barrier between her and his jeans other than her panties. She was immediately wet and horny.
Owen reached back with both hands, settled them behind her butt, and gave her a sharp tug forward, plastering her against him even closer.
She let out an uncharacteristic squeal. “Owen,” she protested.
He laughed and started the engine.
Immediately, she understood the appeal to riding on a bike behind a man. The vibrations of the seat made her sex come fully alive. Her clit pulsed. And she moaned.
“Killing me,” Owen muttered, and then he flipped up the kickstand and took off.
Owen rode for a while, leaving the city and entering the suburbs. She hadn’t asked him where he lived. Perhaps she should have reminded him her apartment was walking distance from the bar.
Then again, if she’d suggested her place, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to ride on his bike. The Georgia evening was warm, and the air felt good blowing against her bare legs. Freeing. She felt the layers of frustration from the last year, in particular the last half hour, wafting away as if taken by the wind.
A sense of peace took over as she breathed easier for the first time in months. The rock-solid man in front of her was responsible. She felt like she’d learned more about him tonight than she had in the entire past year. He had a combination of traits. His sexy, rough exterior with the tattoos, short beard, and muscles gave him a bit of a bad-boy look. And she knew that was partially true. It was what attracted her to him in the first place. But Owen was also kind and generous and thoughtful. She’d always known that to be the case, but both the owner and the waitress at Corked and Tapped had reiterated this to her. And then he’d given her that speech about how worthy she was…
Fifteen minutes later, Owen pulled into a neighborhood and took several more turns before rounding into a driveway. He opened the garage door with a remote and eased inside.
Brooklyn barely had a chance to see the front of his house, but she did notice the lawn was well groomed and the siding was beige. She was anxious to see the inside. Somehow, she hadn’t expected Owen to own a house. She’d been imagining an apartment near hers by the bar.
When he turned off the engine, she quickly hopped off the bike, anxious to tug her skirt back into place. It seemed absurd since the reason for her being with him in the first place was to get naked. But, for the moment, she still felt a little timid. Now that they had arrived, some of her confidence faded. She was really going to do this. It was so out of character. And she was pretty sure Owen knew that.
Owen swung off the bike, removing his helmet while she did the same with hers. He took her hand and led her through the garage entrance into the house. It was dark inside, the only light coming through the windows and glass door, but a whimpering noise followed by the thumping sound made her lower her gaze to find an adorable small mutt on the floor, waiting for his master.
The little guy surprised Brooklyn. Owen was big and manly and dominant. She was shocked he would have such a tiny little pet. A yapping dog that weighed probably four pounds. She bent down to scratch the dog’s neck.
Owen joined her, squatting next to her and scooping the little guy up. The dog rained kisses on his master’s face, and then Owen took a few strides toward a glass door that led from the kitchen to the backyard to let the little fellow out. “That’s Archie,” he informed her as he shut the door. “He’s probably about to wet himself.”
“He’s cute.” She set her purse on the counter and leaned her butt against it, nervous. “You have a dog,” she pointed out.
He grinned. “You’re surprised.” He stalked toward her.
“Only that he’s so small. I would have pictured you with a Doberman or something.”
Owen stepped into her space, pinned her against the counter, and set his hands on the granite on both sides of her hips. “He’s a rescue. He picked me, really.” Owen nuzzled the side of her neck.
She giggled and set her hands on his waist, awkwardly.
“You’re nervous.”
“Yes.” There was no reason to lie. “I haven’t slept with anyone in a very long time, and I’ve never gone home from a bar with a man.”
He lifted a hand and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “First of all, it makes my cock all kinds of hard knowing you haven’t had sex in a while. It’s like you were waiting for me too. Second of all, it’s not like we met in the bar an hour ago. And third, there is no pressure here. There never will be. We’ll move at whatever pace you need. Do what feels right. Don’t force anything.”
She nodded. “Thank you.” His words took a weight off her shoulders.
A scratch sounded behind Owen, and he turned to let Archie back inside. The dog wandered over to a little bed and promptly curled into a ball. “He’s getting older, and it’s late for him. During the day, he can be more rambunctious.”
Brooklyn twisted her hands in front of her as Owen proceeded to refill the little dog’s water bowl and set it next to his bed. It gave her a moment to think. She was way out of her comfort zone. It was late at night, and she’d just ridden on a motorcycle with a bartender to his home. Her family would think she was crazy.
“Come on.” Owen nodded toward the other side of the kitchen and wandered through a door.
Brooklyn followed, finding herself in the dim light of a homey living room. It was jammed with furniture and books and electronics. Lived in. Comfortable. Inviting.
Owen continued through the room to the other side, and she followed him down a short hallway. He pointed to various doors as he walked. “Bathroom. Office. Guest room. Master.”
She was nearly hyperventilating as she entered his bedroom.
“I’m not very tidy,” he informed her unnecessarily. The bed was unmade, and his clothes from several days were strewn on the floor. “I didn’t leave home expecting to return with a woman.” He advanced on her and then took her hands and walked backward toward the queen-sized bed.
She looked around, not commenting. Should she feel better that he hadn’t planned this?
When he stopped moving and wrapped his arms around her middle, she leaned her cheek against his chest and smoothed her palms around to his back. He lifted his hands to the back of her neck, threading them in her hair, and then he kissed the top of her head. “Take a breath.”
She did as he instructed, unaware she’d been holding her breath. She blew it out slowly and then inhaled again deeply. Damn, it felt good to stand wrapped in this man’s arms. She wanted him. She needed to loosen up.
It helped that Owen was easygoing. When he spoke, his voice was commanding, but he seemed to say the right things, calming her in increments. Right now, he held her close for several minutes, not saying a word. It was exactly what she needed.
Chapter 7
When Owen finally ran a hand up and down her back, he broke the silence. “Do you mind if I shower? I’m covered in seventy kinds of liquor.”
She smiled, tipping her head back, forcing boldness. “Mind if I watch?”
His slow smirk made her shiver. “Baby, you may watch, join, wait here, whatever you want.”
“Mmm.” Join… “I’ve never showered with a man.”
He flinched, frowning. “Ever?”
She shook her head.
“Jesus. You were married for three years. What
kind of asshole was this man?”
She cringed. “Can we not talk about my ex?”
He nodded. “Of course. You’re right. Sorry. Done.” Owen grabbed her hand and hauled her into the master bathroom. It was small. The house was small. But like the rest of the place, it was inviting.
Owen turned on the lights over the mirror, leaving the room in a soft glow. So far they had wandered through his entire house without lights. The only impressions she had were from the streetlights and the moon streaming through the windows.
He pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it in a hamper. A brow lifted. “You wanted to see my tattoos.”
She stepped closer, flattened her palms on his chest, and then smoothed them all over his skin, circling him to see his back. He had about six intricately designed tattoos, all of them amazing. A few were military. The others were artistic patterns. Standing behind his back, she leaned in and kissed between his shoulder blades.
Owen spun around and grabbed her cheeks. He lowered his face to kiss her. Instantly, she calmed. The man could kiss better than anyone she’d ever been with in her life. No way was she going to spend the night comparing Owen to Ed. It wasn’t worth it. But damn…
His hands smoothed down her back until he cupped her butt. “You have a great ass,” he stated as he broke the kiss and nibbled a path to her neck. “I’ve wanted to grip it for months.” He molded his hands to her butt and squeezed.
She rose onto her tiptoes, tipping her head to one side to give him better access. It felt like heaven having his lips on her neck. The warmth of his breath. The way he took his time, seemingly enjoying himself.
She realized it was going to take some time undoing the damage Ed had done to her. The man had made her feel unattractive. Perhaps he had wooed her at one point before they were married, but not in years. Not recently enough for her to remember what it felt like for a man to really make love to her. She couldn’t remember when was the last time anyone looked at her the way Owen did, his gaze burning into her with lust.
He wanted her. He wasn’t faking. He wasn’t full of shit. He wanted her. And that made her body warm.
His hands inched down to the hem of her dress, and he gathered the material and lifted it up her thighs as he leaned back and met her gaze. “I want to see you.”
She nodded. Nerves were present. There was no avoiding them. But they were expected. She still wanted nothing more than for Owen to take this dress off. She wanted his gaze and his hands on her bare skin.
He pulled the material up her body. “Lift your arms, baby,” he whispered.
She did as he instructed, feeling the chill of the room as he whisked the dress over her head and set it on the counter. His hands went to her biceps, his gaze wandering up and down her body. “Jesus. You are so fucking sexy.”
She shivered. He said nothing about her plain bra and panties. In fact, he didn’t seem to care at all. Somehow she was perfect even with the boring underwear.
His fingers went to the upper swell of her small breasts. He traced the edge of her bra and then dipped one finger under the material and flicked the tip over her nipple.
She gasped. Her nipple grew hard.
He smiled. “My God you’re sweet.”
“I’m not sure I like this image you have of me.” She forced herself to sound light, playful; she was probably failing.
“What image?” he asked, not meeting her gaze. His fingers were trailing down her belly and along the edge of her panties.
“The one where I’m sweet and good and a bit too pure.”
He lifted his gaze, his hands going to her back to pop the clasp of her bra. As it fell down her arms and to the floor, her nipples puckered. She swallowed. He cupped both globes in his hands gently, weighing them. “Perfection.”
“That too,” she murmured. “I’m hardly perfect.”
He chuckled, and then he pinched her nipples hard, releasing them just as quickly.
She moaned, reaching out to grab his biceps.
“How many men have you been with?”
“Three,” she responded in a barely audible voice.
“And yet, you respond to everything I do like this is all new. Even though you were married. So, I’m going to assume your experiences were limited and boring.”
He wouldn’t be wrong. So far tonight, she’d been more turned on than with any previous man, including her ex-husband. The jerk had hardly paid attention to her. He’d obviously been getting his rocks off elsewhere for years. He’d only married her because she had often covered the finances. If she’d known then what she’d been missing…
Owen cupped a breast again and lowered his face to her nipple. When he sucked the tip into his mouth and flicked his tongue over the tip, she arched into him, a sound she didn’t recognize coming from her mouth. Her panties were soaked. Embarrassingly soaked.
He released her nipple with a pop. “Jesus. So fucking responsive. It’s like no one has ever touched you.”
They hadn’t. Not like this. Not like he had. Not with the passion he ravished her with. Not even close.
She remained still while Owen stared down at her body. He didn’t need to know that the first man she’d slept with had been in high school. They had both been virgins and floundering. They hadn’t repeated the performance. The second man had been in college. They’d been dating for a while, but that particular night he’d been drunk and pushy and sloppy. Nothing about the experience had made her blood boil, so she’d broken up with him.
The only man she’d had multiple experiences with was Ed. Obviously Ed was a shitty lover. He’d been better than the first two, so she hadn’t thought much about it. In the early days, he’d been charming and fun. She’d enjoyed spending time with him.
They’d gotten married too fast, and their problems began to pile up almost immediately. It became apparent he’d married her because she had a steady job, while he rarely took or kept a contract. And then there were the other women…
“Hey.” Owen’s sexy voice jerked her out of her reverie. His gaze was on hers. His hands cradled her back. “You okay?”
“Better than.” She smiled. Her body was so stimulated from his touch and even from his looks. So horny. Part of her wanted to thrust herself at him, jump into his arms or something. She was certain he could hold her weight.
But she wasn’t brave enough to do something like that, so she decided to let him lead, even though she would rather he set her on the counter and take her right now, to hell with the shower.
Owen reached for the button on his jeans and lowered the zipper. He held her gaze as he kicked off his shoes and shimmied out of his jeans. Damn he was impressive. Another difference between him and her three previous lovers, if they could even be called that.
His erection was huge. It was also bobbing toward her. He took the shaft in his hand and gently stroked up and back down. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I could come just from the way you’re looking at me.”
She flushed and jerked her gaze to his. “Sorry.”
He smirked. “Baby, you can look at me all you want. It’s hotter than hell when you do it.” He backed up a step. “I am not going to take you before I’ve had a shower.” He released his shaft and opened the glass door at his back without looking. After turning on the water, he said, “You coming?”
Chapter 8
Brooklyn hesitated for only a second, and then she tucked her fingers into the sides of her panties and shrugged them down her body.
For a long time, she stood there, watching Owen stare at her. His gaze roamed lazily up and down her frame. His eyes burned with lust. It emboldened her to finally step forward, closing the distance. When she spoke, it was to repeat what he’d said to her moments ago. “I could also come from the way you are looking at me.” If I had any idea what that might feel like. Would he realize she had no experience in that area too? Should she tell him? Would it turn him off?
He groaned. “You better not. I want to swallow
the first orgasm I pull out of you.”
She nearly choked, her eyes going wide as she flushed deeper. “You want to what?” She wasn’t at all sure she’d heard him correctly, though from the look on his face and the way his mouth lifted at the corner again, she realized he’d meant what he’d said literally.
He groaned. “Did you even have sex with your ex-husband?”
She frowned. “Him again?”
“You’re right. Sorry.” He tugged the shower door open and stepped inside backward, reaching out to lure her in with him.
She took his hand and followed him. As soon as the door shut behind her, cocooning them in the small space, she set her hands on his waist. “Not going to lie. I lack experience. Or at least I lack good experiences. You might as well know that now. I’ll probably mess this up.”
He chuckled, his hands smoothing up her arms. “You can’t mess up sex, baby.”
She lifted a brow, challenging him silently.
He winced. “Okay, clearly every man you’ve been with messed up sex. But you can’t personally mess it up. No man should have treated you with anything less than the complete respect you deserve, worshiping your body with every bit of their attention.”
Suddenly, Owen reached out, grabbed her around the waist, and hauled her against his body.
She gasped at the sudden movement and the cool water that hit her. “Owen, it’s freezing.” She squirmed to get out of the direct fall of water.
He held her tight. “Really? I hadn’t noticed. The room was steaming from your sexy body.”
She rolled her eyes as the water started to warm and gave up the fight to escape. Eventually, while they held each other’s gazes under the spray, the enclosure really did heat up. That was when Owen released her, grabbed the shampoo, and washed his hair, his hands working the suds down his body at the same time.
She took the opportunity to explore his chest, and then she grew bold enough to smooth her palms lower until she circled his erection with one hand.
He indulged her for a minute and then gently pried her palm from his shaft. She feared she’d done something wrong, but he leaned in, kissed her neck, and murmured in her ear, “I don’t want to come with you for the first time in your hand, baby.”
Brooklyn (Corked and Tapped Book 3) Page 4
