by Mia Madison
I hastily cleared my throat as I looked down at the floor, miserably shaking my head.
“N-No. I haven’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just haven’t wanted to,” I explained, refusing to look at him lest he somehow read the truth in my eyes.
The truth being that the only man I’ve ever wanted to kiss was him.
His slow, measured footsteps didn’t escape my notice. Then his fingers were under my chin again, tilting my head back despite my weak whimper of protest. He was a lot closer than I expected—almost as close as our earlier hug.
I tried to speak but nothing came out. I held his eyes, mine widening with confusion as I tried to read his expression. Were his pupils dilated like that a moment ago? I felt my own eyes fluttering when his warm fingers glided over my jaw and caressed my cheek.
“You’ve never wondered what it’s like to be kissed?”
His voice was soft enough not to startle me, but I was beginning to feel dizzy as he held me in the weird trance. I swallowed around the lump that had formed in my throat and slowly shook my head.
“I’ve wondered. It’s just...”
“It’s just what?” he asked, his voice dropping even further as his other hand came up to trail down my neck. I gasped as he ordered, “Tell me, princess.”
“I was waiting.”
“For what?”
“F-For you.”
Owen sucked in a sharp breath—the hand on my neck darting up to thread into my hair and pull me back. He didn’t pull hard enough to hurt, but it was more than enough of a shock for my eyes to snap open. His blue irises were nearly completely black.
“You saved yourself for me?” he asked with a hint of disbelief. I nodded, unable to lie even though I was terrified of his rejection. To my relief, he only smiled and drew me closer as he murmured, “Oh, princess.”
The fingers resting on my cheek fanned out possessively and he tilted my chin back further as he bent down and pressed his lips softly to mine. I squeaked in surprise before it weakened to a moan as he gently moved our lips together. I followed his lead, grateful that the slowness of his movements allowed me to keep up.
My knees felt dangerously close to giving out, so I hesitantly put my hands on his shoulders for balance. His lips curled against mine as he drew his hands away to direct mine to wrap around his neck.
His hands went back to their previous positions and something in my gut screamed at me to get closer. It felt as necessary as breathing. So I tightened my arms around his neck and pressed my chest flush against his. He groaned and my eyes popped open in surprise.
“Oh!” I gasped against his lips, totally unprepared for the hardness I felt against my abdomen.
Even though I was mortified by my audible reaction, my body had its own ideas of what to do and I slid against him again, shivering as he thrust up against me in return.
“Careful, princess,” Owen whispered against my lips before pulling back to look into my eyes. “Or you’re going to end up learning a lot more today than how to kiss.”
My fingers burned to touch the very visible bulge, but his words were a clear warning. I wasn’t entirely sure whether or not I was ready to take that step—or even if Owen truly wanted to—so I took a step back and leaned against the island counter.
“I-I’m sorry?” I dumbly said, cursing the way my voice rose and turned it into a question.
Owen looked down to his pants and back up at me, a smirk forming as he shook his head.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, holding a hand up to interrupt me when I started to protest. He was able to figure out what I was trying to apologize for long before I even knew myself. “Don’t worry. I know how to handle this myself.”
I wasn’t naive enough for the meaning of that to fly over my head and if my cheeks weren’t already red, I was sure I would have blushed. Instead, I found myself trying very hard to shove away the blurry mental image of Owen pleasuring himself.
I would have done anything he asked for a front row ticket to that show.
“You okay?”
I nodded, my eyes still glued to his crotch. I desperately wanted to ask to see it, but Owen was stepping away and turning his back to me again. For a second, I felt a terrifying jolt of panic until he stopped in the doorway and reached his hand out to me.
“Come.”
One word was all it took. My feet were moving automatically and I allowed him to take my hand and lead me into his living room. He only let go of my hand to arrange himself in the recliner chair.
“Sit.”
I moved toward the closest piece of furniture—the couch—but he made a tsk-tsk sound that stopped me before my butt hit the cushion. I looked at him quizzically, my eyes widening when he crooked a finger at me in a come-hither gesture.
The moment I reached his side, he was sitting up just enough to grab my hips and pull me into his lap. I moaned at the feeling of his still present hard-on against my ass—squirming around helplessly as I tried to relieve the pressure. Me sitting directly on that surely had to hurt, right?
“Sit,” he ground out through clenched teeth, gripping my hips tightly. “Still.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“No. You squirming around on my dick feels a little too good. Be still for me.” After I forced my body to relax in his embrace, he let out a content sigh and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Now talk to me.”
“About what?”
“About how long this has been going on.”
There was really only one thing he could be talking about and I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t let it go no matter how much it embarrassed me to talk about.
“Forever,” I muttered, then shook my head. “Or at least that’s what it feels like.”
His fingers were twirling the ends of my hair, gently tugging the little curls and watching as they bounced back into place.
He hummed thoughtfully before he said, “I knew you had a crush on me as a little girl. I figured that would have gone away when I left and you grew up.”
“It didn’t. If anything, it got worse.”
“Worse? How’d it get worse?”
I frowned, realizing how that probably must have sounded to him much too late.
“No, no. I mean... more intense. More... adult.”
I turned my head just enough to see the recognition dawn in his eyes as a sly smile appeared. I felt his hips gyrate a little below me and he lifted his eyebrows once in a silent question. After I nodded, his smile turned into a wide grin.
“What about you?” I asked, desperate to turn the conversation away from my mortification. “Have you ever—”
“Last time I saw you,” he interrupted. “When we went to the lake.”
I remembered that day clearly. Finley had come for a visit and even brought Brooke along with her. The whole family and a number of my parents’ friends had gone for a trip to the lake—the older adults lounging around the beach drinking beer while the rest of us went swimming.
“You had a little pink skirt on over your bikini bottoms,” Owen said fondly, his eyes losing their focus as he lost himself in the memory. “But you were out there splashing around and it kept flying up and flashing glimpses of your tight little ass. I couldn’t even change into my trunks because I was hard the whole fucking day.”
“You should have said something. I—”
“You were nineteen and my best friend’s little girl,” he said sourly as he shook his head to himself. “I felt—I was disgusted with myself for looking at you like that, Charlie.”
“Wait.” I spun around as best as I could on his lap, wincing when he groaned as I accidentally rubbed myself all over his hard length again. “Sorry. Is that why you never came back for a visit? Because of me?”
A brief flash of shame appeared in his eyes and I knew I was right without his confirmation. As the pieces clicked together, things started making sense. There was only one huge question mark remaining.
>
“Why did you come back now? Why did you kiss me?”
“I moved back because the timing was right,” he said vaguely, shrugging a single shoulder. The fingers playing with my hair suddenly stopped and he dragged me back against his chest. “I kissed you because I couldn’t help myself.”
“But you just said—”
“I know. I’ve had two years since that incident to think about it.”
“So you aren’t... disgusted?”
“Don’t do that,” he said loudly, making me startle in his arms. He squeezed me gently in apology, lowering his voice as he said, “Don’t say it like it’s your fault that I felt like an old pervert. The fault here is mine.”
The words sunk in and I felt infinitely better, though there were still doubts lingering around in my mind. Owen must have sensed my tension and realized that he never answered my question because he buried his face against my hair and spoke softly into my ear.
“And no. I’m no longer disgusted at myself for wanting you. How could I not?”
All the reasons why I dressed up in Finley’s clothes and all the comparisons I ever made of myself to Amber sprang up in my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them aloud.
Far be it from me to argue with him about such a thing—especially when he was holding me so close and his hands were lowering to the hem of the sundress and pulling it up just enough for him to lightly caress the skin of my thighs.
“Do you have any questions?” he murmured in an obvious throwback to his earlier remark.
“No questions. I just—I want you to teach me.”
“Teach you what?” he practically growled as his fingers inched up my thighs and got dangerously close to my underwear.
“Everything,” I breathed out as I tossed my head back against his neck and writhed in his lap.
Owen quickly flicked the hair off my neck and kissed the skin, making me shiver. But his other hand—the one I had momentarily forgotten about—laid itself flush over my clothed sex and he possessively ground his palm against me.
“Everything?” he asked with a low chuckle. “Just to warn you—I’m going to make it a point to ruin you for other men if we go down this road, princess. You’ll only ever want me.”
I shuddered as his fingers rubbed over the thin layer of cotton between my legs—the only thing keeping the wandering digits from slipping inside. But based on the way he moved them over me, I could tell that he had no plans to take it any further until he had my consent.
“I want it. I want you.”
God, Layla would be so proud. Not that she would ever believe that I could be so brazen.
Funny what desire could bring out of a person.
“Well, we already covered kissing—you’re a natural, by the way—so the next lesson I want to teach you…” He trailed off and kissed my neck, sliding his lips up to my earlobe and pressing a kiss there. “Is the beauty of anticipation.”
“What?” I breathlessly questioned, whimpering when both his hands and lips pulled away from my body.
“Up,” he ordered, grinning when I followed suit immediately even though I wobbled on shaky knees. He stood up himself and blatantly adjusted his jeans, leaving me to stare down at the obscene bulge with wide, longing eyes.
“Always leave them wanting more,” he said in his normal tone, shaking his head with remorse. “Not that this was a lesson I really wanted to teach you today.”
“But... what? Why—”
“I need to take you back,” he said sadly as he gestured to the clock. “I promised Landon I’d have you home by two.”
“Oh crap,” I muttered when I realized we’d been gone for over two hours.
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Owen said with disappointment. “Come on, princess. We’ll continue where we left off very soon.”
“Can I use the restroom first?”
“Of course.”
He showed me to the closest bathroom and I locked myself inside, splashing cool water on my face in a vain attempt to calm myself down. After taking a few moments to steady my erratic heartbeat, I stepped out to find Owen waiting down the hall with my purse in his hand.
“Thanks,” I said as I took the bag and slung it up on my shoulder.
He nodded and placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me to his truck in silence. It was slightly nerve-racking how quiet he was, at least until he turned the vehicle onto my street.
“Tell Landon I’ll be over in the morning as promised,” Owen said as my house came into view. “And your birthday present is in your purse.”
So many things had happened in the past few hours that I completely forgot about the promised present as well as the fact that it was my birthday. I laughed to myself as I reached for my purse on the floor, realizing he must have snuck it in there while I was using the restroom.
“Not here,” he chided, shaking his head as he smiled. “Open it in your room—but only the one that says happy birthday on it.”
“Okay,” I said slowly as I refastened the clasp that held the top of the purse together. “There are two?”
“Yes. One for now and one for later. Promise me you won’t open the one for later until I give you permission.”
“I swear,” I said, watching him with curious eyes. “You sure you don’t want to watch me open the first one at least?”
“It’s just something silly. I’m sure,” he confirmed as he pulled up beside the house and gave me a meaningful look. “Happy birthday, princess.”
The way he said it that time in comparison to the night before were two entirely different entities. I felt my breath catch as I gave him a shaky smile, wanting nothing more than to ask him to take me back to his house and never let me leave.
But alas, this was reality and there were a great many reasons why that couldn’t happen. After he promised to make plans together soon, I gave him my sincere thanks before I hopped out of the truck.
It roared to life and tore down the street as I was opening the front door of the house. I jumped when I came face-to-face with Dad.
“Owen leave already?”
“Yeah. He said he had something to take care of,” I lied as smoothly as I could manage. “But he said to tell you that he’ll be over in the morning.”
Dad was placated and if he picked up on any untruth in the first part, it was forgotten. I rushed up to my room, ignoring my mom’s quiet question from the kitchen inquiring if I had a nice time. I had the time of my life, but I wasn’t sure I could say that without blushing up a storm.
So instead, I focused on discovering my birthday present. I dropped my oversized purse on the bed and tore it open, cocking my head to the side when I found two boxes amongst my other belongings.
One box was labeled with a card that read ‘Happy Birthday’ and I plucked that out first. The second one—a black, slim box—had a note taped to the outside that said ‘For later.’
My curiosity was killing me, but I made him a promise and I intended to keep it. I shoved it back into my purse for the time being and carefully undid the paper on my birthday present, tossing it into the trash can before lifting up the lid of the box.
I laughed a little harder than I probably had reason to and I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. With my free hand, I plucked the item from the box, smiling at the sparkling tiara. Beneath it rested another card and I lifted it out, feeling my eyes water as I read the short note.
‘For my beautiful princess.’
5
I had no idea how Owen had found out about the conversation I had with my mom so many years ago, though there was really only one reasonable explanation for it. She had warned me not to tell Dad about my desire to have Owen as my prince, but apparently she didn’t mind telling the man himself.
I spent the rest of the evening trying to remember when exactly Owen started calling me princess. Just how long had he known about my crush?
My quest for answers was interrupted late that night by
a chirp from my cell phone. I frowned at my ceiling in the darkness, wondering who would be texting me so late at night. I had already spoken to everyone who usually wished me a happy birthday.
I padded over to the dresser and unplugged my phone, my eyes widening when I saw Owen’s name. I hurriedly opened the message, my breaths quickening as I scanned the words.
‘Ready for your next lesson?’
I frowned at the screen and tip-toed to the window, pulling the curtain back an inch and peeking outside. There was no sign of his black truck, so I shot back a short message.
‘Now?’
I chewed on my thumbnail as I waited for a reply, continuously checking out the window in search of any sign of Owen.
‘Get the second box and get in bed. Now.’
I swallowed hard before I did as instructed. I had stashed the mystery box in my dresser earlier in the day, making it easy enough to find. It wasn’t wrapped in paper like the other had been. Instead, it was bound shut with two ribbons that were tied together.
It had taken all of my self-control not to take a peek. I was suddenly grateful for waiting. The anticipation was definitely worth it.
My cell phone rang and I quickly swiped to answer, raising the phone to my ear with a whispered, “Hello?”
“Where are you?”
I almost told him I was home when it dawned on me what he really wanted to know.
“I’m in bed.”
“Good girl. Open the box.”
I propped the phone on my shoulder and unlaced the ties, opening the black box and sucking in a sharp breath when my eyes landed on what rested inside.
“Owen, I can’t—”
“Yes you can, princess. I have it on good authority that that is the quietest vibrator on the market. Get under the covers.”
I started to do as he told me, though my lips were voicing my protest.
“No, I meant… I don’t…”
I trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it. How was I supposed to tell a man that I didn’t want a toy to be the first thing inside of me? I didn’t even use tampons.
Once again, Owen seemed to read my mind.
