We'd barely finished and I already wanted to do it again.
Owen
I was normally in a pretty decent mood in the morning but today I had a smug grin on my face a mile wide. Emmy had spent the night in my bed and damn, did that woman pack a punch. For someone as uptight as she was most of the time, she knew how to let her hair down when it came to sex. She'd knocked me sideways - twice - last night and I still hadn't recovered.
Stretching and yawning I placed my hand on the bedsheets where she'd lain. Still warm but she was nowhere in sight. Sitting up, I could see her clothes still strewn where we'd tossed them last night. She wasn't in the living room area so that left only one location. I walked over to the bathroom door and heard the sound of water. She was taking a shower.
I knocked quietly but there was no answer. Slowly turning the doorknob, I peeked inside, not wanting to scare the hell out of her but also kind of wanting to surprise her in the shower. The thought of water running down her gorgeous naked body was almost more than I could bear. My cock was hard and ready for action. How did Emmy feel about morning sex?
Me? I'm not that fussy about the time of day, and she could persuade me at any hour.
Pushing the door open wider, steam billowed out of the room revealing my fantasy - a naked Emmy behind a glass shower door. Of course, I couldn't see her clearly through it, but I was practically salivating at the thought of pressing her up against the marble tiles and fucking us both into paradise.
"Shut the door. You're letting the warm air out."
So much for surprising her.
"I was wondering how late you'd sleep," she said, opening the shower door a crack but I couldn't see her face. "Are you going to join me?"
Fuck yes, I was going to join her. Did she actually think I might turn her down?
I hadn't put any clothes back on after we'd made love the second time so I didn't have any to shed. There was more than enough room for both us and maybe a couple more, if we'd been so inclined. There were two shower heads, one on the wall and one handheld that hooked next to the tiled bench on the far side. I has a few ideas as to how to put the latter to good use.
"Are you still half asleep?"
Shaking my head, I turned my attention to the woman in front of me instead of scouting out locations to fuck. Sometimes the male mind was truly a one-way highway. Her light brown hair was lathered up with shampoo and some of the bubbles ran down her body, creating a sexy peek-a-book effect that left me almost speechless. And painfully hard.
"I wake up slowly. I need a shower and some black coffee before I'm completely human."
Emmy tipped her head back and rinsed the shampoo from her hair. I watched fascinated at an act that she probably did every single day but to me looked more erotic than if she had pole danced onstage covered in glitter.
"I love mornings," she said, reaching for a bottle of conditioner but I managed to beat her to it. I wanted to run my fingers through her wet silky hair. "What are you doing?"
"Helping."
Squeezing a dollop into my palm, I rubbed my hands together and then ran them down the long strands.
"Do you do this a lot?" she asked with a laugh, tipping her head back to rinse it again. "You're pretty good."
"It's nice to know if this psychology thing doesn't work out that I have options."
"You could be a hairdresser, an exotic dancer, or based on the picnic yesterday you could even try your hand at event planning."
Emmy was a little goofy before she'd had her coffee. It was cute.
"An exotic dancer? How did you come up with that profession? Was it all the sequins in my wardrobe?"
Her fingers brushed my abdomen. "I think you'd make a great exotic dancer."
If my cock hadn't already been rock hard it would definitely be now. She was giving me the look, that one that told me she was in the mood. Funny how we hadn't known one another all that long but I could pick that expression out easily.
"I'm not the greatest dancer."
Those daring fingers strayed lower, wrapping around my cock. Holy fuck, this woman was bold. "I think you have excellent...rhythm."
"So do you."
My words came out strangled but it was because she'd moved lower, cupping my balls in her dainty hands. Shit, I was already ready to blow and she'd barely touched me. I was like a teenager with my first girlfriend. Emmy was going to think that I had no self control at all.
"Honey, you're playing with fire."
She looked up at me, a smile playing on her full lips. "Really? I thought I was playing with your–"
"Emmy," I interrupted. Cupping her full breasts in my palms, I bent down to nibble at her neck. "You have a dirty mouth. Did you know that?"
She nodded solemnly but I could tell she wanted to laugh. "I do. Are you complaining? Should I be more ladylike?"
One of my hands strayed lower over her belly and between her legs. Jesus, she was wet and ready for me. "Fuck no. I like you just the way you are. In fact, I think you're perfect."
My fingers found her clit, running circles around it. Emmy responded instantly, a moan escaping from her parted lips.
"I'm so close," she whispered and I was barely able to hear her over the sound of the shower. "Fuck me."
I wanted to do just that but...
"I don't have anything. We used the only two condoms I brought with me."
I wasn't expecting to meet anyone on the island and start a torrid affair. I needed to make a trip down to the gift shop.
"Dammit," she muttered under her breath. "We'll have to be more creative, that's all."
More creative turned out to be code words for the blow job to end all blow jobs. Emmy sunk to her knees and proceeded to drive me out of my mind. Her hot mouth, her flitting tongue, the warm water beating down on my back and shoulders while her fingers kneaded my balls. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time and I was groaning her name and holding onto the wall for dear life. I had to lock my knees to stay upright as I climaxed hard, my teeth gritted together. When it was done, I had to sit down on the bench to collect myself.
Emmy redirected the spray so that we wouldn't get cold and then sat down next to me.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm so okay that in about ten seconds I'm going to return the favor. You'll be screaming my name before we're done."
Her eyes lit up with mischief. "Ten...nine...eight...seven...six..."
This amazing woman was counting the time down. I could so fall in love with her.
"One," I said loudly before swiftly moving to my knees. I spread her thighs and draped them over my shoulders. "Just in case you've forgotten, my name is Owen. Everyone in this goddamn hotel is going to know it."
At first, we were both laughing but things quickly turned serious as I pressed two fingers inside of her, moving them in and out while my tongue lapped at her clit. As she'd predicted she was incredibly close. I could feel her walls tightening and hear her breath coming in pants. With a few brushes over her swollen pearl she fell over the cliff, my name echoing off the tile walls. The other guests might not hear it but it was music to my ears.
One look at her post-orgasm and my heart squeezed in my chest. She was totally blissed out, her eyes heavy lidded and her lips curled into a smile. She was so fucking beautiful it made my stomach hurt.
I was falling. Hard. Emmy Grant just might be the one.
Chapter 13
Emmy
I had the appetite of a lumberjack. So far, I'd put away three pancakes, two strips of bacon, one piece of toast, and a partridge in a pear tree.
Okay, I didn't eat a bird but my plate was beginning to look sparse. Sex was a good workout and amazingly fantastic sex was a great workout. I couldn't begin to imagine how many calories I'd burned last night and this morning. Maybe Shelby needed to add a chapter to her book about sex as a couple's workout.
Owen had also some damage to his meal. He'd ordered the traditional bacon, eggs, and toast along with a yogurt parf
ait with fruit and granola. He'd quickly drank his orange juice practically in one gulp - dehydration, I assume - and was now emptying his second cup of coffee.
He must have thought I wasn't paying attention because he reached for my last slice of bacon and got a rap on the knuckles with my fork in return.
"I really like you, Owen, but I don't share my food."
Laughing, he settled for his own toast. "You'll share your body with me but not your bacon."
"That's right," I agreed readily. "Because it's bacon. You don't mess with another person's bacon."
"So if I had tried to steal a piece of pancake or toast that would have been okay?"
I shook my head. "No, I wouldn't have shared that, either."
"Because...?" he prompted, spreading grape jelly on his last slice of toast.
"Because I'm hungry."
"Are you always this possessive about your food?"
"Always."
"Good to know. Just for your information, if you'd asked nicely, I would have given you some of my bacon. We can always order more. I doubt the kitchen has run out."
I was tempted but then I remembered that I didn't want to have to be rolled out of the restaurant.
"I'm full, but I wouldn't mind more coffee."
Like the expensive resort that it was, a waitress holding a coffee carafe seemed to appear out of thin air.
"Would you like more coffee?"
"Yes, please," I replied as she filled up my cup with the dark, steamy goodness. "Thank you so much."
The waitress leaned down and gave Owen a big smile. And a view of her low-cut blouse.
"How about you? More coffee?"
"Actually, I'm good." He glanced over his shoulder toward the kitchen. "I'd really like a glass of water. I don't suppose you could find our waitress?"
"No need. I can get that for you. Or anything else you might want."
Crap, it was barely nine in the morning and Owen was getting hit on by a horny waitress. What in the ever-loving hell? Apparently, I was invisible.
"Just water, thank you. I appreciate it."
The server sashayed back to the kitchen and to Owen's credit he didn't watch her.
"Maybe she thought I was your sister."
Frowning, Owen raised an eyebrow. "I'm not following. Who thinks you're my sister?"
"The waitress." I nodded toward the kitchen. "She offered you anything else you might want. I'm guessing she was on the menu if that's what your appetite was in the mood for."
"Emerson Grant, are you jealous? Because I barely noticed that girl. She's far too young for me."
He'd paid enough attention to know that she was young.
"I am not jealous," I replied with a heavy sigh. "I simply think that certain behavior is sort of fascinating. That girl poured coffee for me so she knew I was sitting here across from you. For all she knew, we were married. But that didn't stop her from hitting on you. As a psychologist you don't find that interesting? Because I do."
"Okay, you've piqued my interest." Owen sat back in his chair, tapping his chin in thought. "Let's go through the possibilities. Maybe you read the situation wrong. Or perhaps she likes causing trouble between husband and wife. There's also the possibility that you mentioned. That she thought we were siblings instead of a couple. But I think the most likely explanation is that she gets bigger tips when she flirts with a male."
"That does make sense," I admitted. "But if I were the jealous type, or even worse, if you were the kind of guy to take her up on her offer this could turn out badly for the young woman."
"Agreed. She might only flirt with men she knows are harmless."
"How can she possibly know? She's never spoken two words to you before that exchange."
"People can have a sixth sense about it," Owen shrugged. "When you meet people, do you get a gut feeling about them?"
"I do but sometimes I'm wrong. Here she comes with your water. Let's see if she does it again."
Without so much as a glance toward me, the young woman placed the glass down in front of Owen, once again bending low so her assets were on display.
"Is there anything else I can get you?"
"I'm fine here," he replied before reaching for my hand across the table. "How about you, honey? Is there anything you need?"
"I'm fine."
I barely had the second word out before the server was gone, filling coffee cups all over the dining room.
"So what's the diagnosis, Doctor? Does she flirt with everyone or just the sexy men?"
"It's hard to tell. I still maintain it's for tips."
"You're probably right."
"I didn't encourage her."
I took a sip of my coffee. "I know and I appreciate that. Not all of the men I've gone out with have done the same."
"Assholes," he muttered under his breath. "I hope you dumped every one of them right away."
"I did. I probably could have saved myself some time if I had a nifty test like you do. Put the guys through their paces before I agreed to a date."
"A nifty test? Is that what you think I do for a living?" Luckily, he wasn't offended at all. In fact, he found the description amusing because he was laughing. "It's a little more scientific than that."
"I'd have my own test and I wouldn't need a PhD to put it together, either."
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table. "Do go on. I'm intrigued."
"First, I'd take him to one of those restaurants where all the waitresses wear tight cut off t-shirts and short-shorts."
"And then?"
"Then I'd have him meet my friends and their pets. If they don't like him, then that's it. I'd also observe him in his own natural habitat, of course."
Owen almost choked on his ice water. "His habitat?"
"Absolutely. See what his home looks like. Is he a slob? Does he throw his laundry on the floor? Doe he only eat pizza and Chinese takeout while he plays video games? Those are deal breakers. Also, I'd want to see him hang out with his friends. How does he act? Does he revert to being a teenager? And I'd want to see him interact with his own family as well. How he treats his mother is a huge indicator as to how he'll treat me. Believe me when I say that I've seen some grooms treat their own mothers like dirt. It's shameful."
"You've given this topic a great deal of thought."
Fiddling with my coffee cup, I nodded in agreement. "I have, actually. I see couples each and every day of my life and I guess I'm a little jaded. I've seen some things that would curl your hair."
"But there are happy couples?" he pressed. "Couples that restore your faith?"
"Sure, like Lisa and Dan, but not everyone is as wonderful as they are. In your line of work, you have to see it too, right?"
"I do, but I guess that I concentrate on the ones that work and not the ones that don't."
"So I told you about my test. Tell me about yours," I challenged, waggling my eyebrows. "What sort of questions do you ask? What do you need to know to put two people together?"
Owen's smile widened. "If you're really interested, I can make arrangements for you to take the test. What do you say?"
Yes, I was that curious. Call me crazy but I wanted to know.
"I say yes. Let's do it." I raised my hand when he was going to speak again. "I assume that you have also taken this test?"
He nodded.
"Then what happens if we're not compatible?"
"Honey, I guarantee you that we're compatible."
I wasn't sure that I even believed in this so-called scientific test.
"But what if we're not?"
"We will be," he promised. "Don't you trust me?"
I wanted to, but my cynicism ran deep.
"When can I take the test?"
"As soon as I pay the check."
No time like the present. Too bad I didn't study for this.
Emmy
We were back in Owen's suite and he'd set up his laptop on the small desk near the window. All the way back to the room, I'
d become increasingly nervous. There was no passing or failing but since he owned the company, he would have access to my answers which I assumed would be to rather personal questions. It was more frightening than being naked in front of him. This was far more revealing.
"Is there a time limit?" I asked when I sat down at the desk. The website was open to the welcome screen. "What if I want to change my answer?"
"There's no time limit and you can change any answer before submitting. The test takes most people about thirty minutes but you can take as long as you like. Some people take it but don't submit it right away. They come back to it later in the day or the next and make any changes then."
Half an hour wasn't bad. It was longer than a pop quiz but less than a test in high school, which usually took a full hour.
I reached for the mouse and then glanced over my shoulder where Owen was still hovering. "Are you going to stand there and watch me? Because that's a little creepy, to be honest."
"Yes. Right. How about I step out onto the balcony and make a few calls?"
"That's fine. I'll let you know when I'm done."
He took a few steps and then hesitated at the sliding glass doors. "Don't overthink the questions. Usually your first instinct is the best answer."
"Okay."
He still didn't move.
"Don't think about how you'd like things to be. Think about how they actually are."
Geez Louise.
"Got it."
"If you need–"
"Owen," I interrupted, giving him a sweet smile. "I can't start the test until you step outside."
Color washed across his cheeks. "Sorry. I just get a little nervous about this. It's sort of my baby, after all."
"I'll treat it with love and care."
Then a thought occurred to me.
"Wait...are you worried that we won't be compatible?"
"I am not."
He didn't look sure.
"Because it wouldn't matter to me. I'm the one that's skeptical, remember? You're the one that believes in this."
Sighing, he crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not voodoo, Emmy. It's science. The good thing about science is that it's true whether you believe in it or not."
Touch Him (ManTrap Book 3) Page 9
