Touch Him (ManTrap Book 3)

by Olivia Jaymes

  Then later when the pizza had arrived, she'd brushed against me as I was handing the delivery kid a tip. Her breasts against my back, her hand ghosting over my ass. Really, Emmy? I'd had to quell the urge to throw her over my shoulder and drag her to the nearest horizontal surface. Or vertical. I wasn't fussy.

  The third time had been when I'd entered the kitchen to refill her margarita. I wasn't much for tequila but Kyle had told me that the ladies loved these on game night. Looked like I would need to drag out the blender and learn to make a batch. While placing the pitcher back in the refrigerator, Emmy had come up behind me and ran her hand down my back and then back up again, her short nails scratching straight through my cotton shirt. I'd whirled around but she was already sashaying out of the kitchen, shooting me a smirk over her shoulder.

  There was so much more to this woman than what she let the world see, and I loved the fact that she was so open about her needs.

  As in...she needs me.

  We'd eaten, finished the game - Emmy had won - and settled into the living room to sit in front of the fireplace and talk. Ashlyn was a complete sweetheart, that was obvious. She was a lover of the past and of course I'd been in her store. She had the best vinyl collection in the state.

  Her boyfriend Kyle Lewis wasn't anything like I'd expected him to be. I'd thought he might be a cocky know-it-all, smug and basically a pain in the ass. Not in the least. He was clearly a regular guy who liked to watch hockey and drink beer. He didn't brag or even talk about himself much. He also worshipped the ground Ashlyn walked on. They were the cutest couple I'd seen in a long time and I'd seen a bunch this week.

  "Emmy tells me you're working on a book, Kyle." I placed my arm around Emmy's shoulders. "When will it be out?"

  "I've barely started it. It's really just an idea and a barebones outline at this point. It was Ashlyn's idea, actually. She suggested that since people are always trying to ask me questions maybe I should put some of my thoughts and ideas on paper."

  Very slowly and deliberately I began tracing patterns on Emmy's arm, her thin blouse barely any barrier, while continuing my conversation with Kyle. Two could play this game. She shivered and I had to hide my smile of triumph. She was as affected as I was.

  Ashlyn lifted the edge of one of the drapes and frowned. "I thought the snow wasn't supposed to start until early morning."

  Emmy immediately stood to join Ashlyn at the window. "It's really flying out there."

  "We're supposed to get four inches," Ashlyn said. "Maybe you should get on the road now. I don't want you to get stranded anywhere."

  Emmy was already nodding in agreement. "I think that's a good idea. Owen, what do you think?"

  I thought it was a great idea, too.

  Emmy was going to get much more than four inches tonight.

  Chapter 20

  Emmy

  Owen didn't say much during the drive back to my place, his attention on the snow-covered roads. When we arrived, he followed me into the house just as quietly with his arm around me so I wouldn't slip and fall on the front porch steps. I locked the door behind us and quickly shed my coat, hanging it on a set of hooks in the foyer.

  "Kick your shoes off and make yourself at home. How about a glass of wine?" I asked, making a beeline for the kitchen. "Or maybe a brandy? It will warm us up. The temperature really dropped in the last few hours."

  According to the weather report, this was supposed to be winter's last hurrah and warmer weather would be just around the corner. More specifically in only two days.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I reached up into the top shelf of the cabinet and retrieved the bottle of brandy that I rarely used. In my day to day life there simply wasn't a great deal of occasions that called for it. Normally the girls and I drank margaritas or cosmopolitans. In the summer, I'd make pitchers of sangria and we'd drink them out on the back patio. But cold winter nights and fireplaces were practically invented for brandy. All we needed was a cuddly Saint Bernard to bring it to us.

  "I'll just grab a couple of glass–"

  When I'd turned around, I was surprised to see Owen standing right behind me. Close.

  "You're really quiet when you want to be," I said breathlessly. "I didn't hear you at all."

  "I took my shoes off." Owen pointed to his sock clad feet and then plucked the brandy bottle from my hand, setting it down on the counter. "I think we have some unfinished business first, though."

  Owen was a tall man with long limbs and his body crowded me back against the kitchen cabinets. This close, I could feel the heat from his skin penetrate even my denim jeans and sweater. The temperature in the room had just ratcheted up about twenty or thirty degrees.

  "Unfinished business?" I echoed, leaning my torso backward to look up into his face. I wasn't a petite little flower but he still towered over me by at least six inches or more. "I'm not sure what you mean."

  But I was beginning to. I'd done a little bit of teasing at game night and I had a feeling it was going to pay off. Lucky me. Normally I was much more direct but I thought this might be more fun.

  "You wanted my attention. Now you have it. All of it."

  I certainly did. His gaze was laser focused on me, raking me from head to toe. From the desire in his eyes, he liked what he was seeing.

  My nipples peaked under my bra, rubbing against the lace and sending arrows of arousal straight to my lower belly. The blood had begun to roar in my ears like a freight train and I had to grab onto his shoulders not to end up in a heap on the floor. Decadent images of ripping his shirt off of his body ran through my brain.

  "Do you know what you were doing to me tonight?" he asked, his arms snaking around my waist and pulling me closer. "You were driving me crazy."

  "That was the plan," I admitted, our lips crashing together. His tongue demanded entry and I didn't deny him. His hands drifted down to my hips and the next thing I knew I was being lifted up onto the kitchen counter. "Owen, what are you doing?"

  Tugging at his belt, he gave me a slow, evil smile. "Fucking you, of course. That's what this has all been about, right?"

  No. Well...yes.

  "You haven't wanted to all week. What changed your mind?"

  His fingers stilled just as he finished pulling down his zipper. "Is that what's been going on in that pretty head of yours? You think I don't want you? Honey, I want you any way that I can get you, all the fucking time. I was just giving you some space this week. Trying to be a damn gentleman."

  A gentleman. Taking a moment to digest that comment, I decided it sounded awful.

  "Don't do that ever again."

  He ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it away onto the tile floor. That wide chest was bared for my inspection, both visual and manual. Yum. "I won't. Now let's get you naked. Or at least naked enough."

  For a moment I opened my mouth to object but then I remembered that this was what I'd been wanting all week. The fact that the kitchen counter wasn't the most comfortable location wasn't really the point. I'd wanted him to fuck me and now he was ready to do it. With any lucky we'd do it here and then go into the bedroom and do it all over again.

  Apparently, I didn't move fast enough because Owen was shoving my sweater up to my armpits and pulling my bra cups down, exposing my breasts to the cool air. The nipples were already hard as nails and he brushed them a few times with his thumbs before bending his head and sucking them into his warm mouth. Scraping the sides with his teeth, he ran his tongue around in circles before pulling off with a pop and shifting his attention to the other side.

  My fingers tangled in his hair and my nails dug into his scalp as his mouth worked black magic, building my arousal until I was ready to explode. A sheen of sweat now covered my skin, although the kitchen was chilly. Having a mind of their own, my legs had wrapped themselves around his waist, anchoring him close in case he had any ideas about making a break for it before we were through.

  His hard cock was pressed against my center and I swear it was as hot a
s an oven. Grinding against him, I tried to get just the right friction I needed to send me over. My breath was coming in pants and gasps as I teetered on the edge.

  Placing a strong arm under my bottom, he slipped my jeans and panties down my legs and off, leaving me bare-ass naked on the cool granite. It did nothing to lower my temperature.

  "Are you ready, honey?" Owen crooned in my ear as he tugged at the waistband of his jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers so his cock sprang free. "I can't wait to be inside you."

  I'd been so lost to the pleasure that I didn't realize that at some point he'd dug into his pocket for a condom. He tore open the packet with his teeth and then rolled it on with my help, which may have been more of a hindrance considering how much my fingers were shaking. I needed him now.

  "Now," I whispered, my head falling back so his mouth could find the pulse at the base of my neck. "Please."

  Owen didn't make me wait a second longer, thrusting inside of me all the way to the hilt. We both groaned as he bottomed out, our breaths mingling together as his lips captured mine in a sloppy, wet kiss. Stretched and full, I wrapped my legs around his middle.

  His strokes were slow and deliberate at first but that wasn't what I needed. The pent-up frustration from the week called for something far more...insistent.

  I dug my fingers into the muscles of his shoulders. "Fuck me harder. Faster."

  Without a word Owen pulled out, wringing a mewl of protest from me but then he placed my legs over his shoulders, opening me as wide as I could go. He set a punishing pace, riding me hard and fast, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

  With every stroke my head smacked into the cabinet behind me and if I didn't come soon I was going to have a concussion, but it never once occurred to me to ask him to stop or be more gentle. If anything, I wanted it rougher. I whispered dirty suggestions into his ear, begging him to fuck me until we both exploded.

  Then we both exploded.

  Not all at once, though. With each stroke his groin hit my clit, sending me closer to nirvana and when we were both sweaty and barely breathing, he snapped his hips forward, hitting every spot inside and outside just right.

  Lights danced behind my lids and my entire body bowed with pleasure as my toes curled inside of my socks. Owen went over right after me, my name on his lips and it sounded sweeter than any endearment I'd ever heard before.

  When we both came down from our high, we were officially a mess. My clothes were askew and what was left of my makeup probably made me look like a scary clown from that movie It. Owen, however, looked beautiful. His damp skin glowed and his chest rose and fell in time with my own. My fingers had made a mess out of his hair but it only served to give him a rakish air that had me wanting to drag him into the bedroom and continue where we'd left off.

  Just as soon as I could breathe again.

  Emmy

  The delicious aroma of bacon roused me from a deep sleep but it had to simply be a vivid as hell dream, because I didn't have any bacon in the house, nor was I vertical to fry it. Groaning, I opened my eyes and pushed myself up to a sitting position, yawning and stretching my limbs. I was slightly sore in my intimate areas after last night but it wasn't unpleasant, and it was a strong reminder of how Owen and I had gone after each other like animals.

  Roar.

  Sniffing the air again, the scent of bacon was definitely there. I wasn't dreaming or imagining it. I could also smell the glorious aroma of coffee. The amazing elixir that I needed the most in the mornings. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I made a grab for my robe to cover up my naked body. If there was a thief in my house frying bacon and fixing coffee, I didn't want him to see me without clothes.

  My stiff legs carried me into the kitchen where the most wonderful sight greeted me. Owen - completely dressed and looking way too handsome for this hour in the morning - was standing at my stove cooking while whistling a happy tune. Dammit, I hated people who whistled in the morning. It was so...carefree. I had a hell of a lot to worry about in the precious time before I left for work.

  "I didn't have any bacon."

  That's all my sluggish brain could come up with before my coffee. But it was true.

  Turning, Owen held out his arm, a big grin on his face. "Emmy, I hope you're hungry. Breakfast is ready."

  As if to punctuate his words, the toaster popped up four pieces of perfectly golden toast. I had to admit that Owen's timing was impeccable.

  "I didn't have any bacon," I repeated, reaching into the cabinet above the coffee maker. I needed caffeine as quickly as possible.

  "I ran to the store," Owen explained, flipping scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate. "Frankly, there wasn't enough food in that refrigerator to keep a mouse alive, honey."

  "I eat out a lot."

  And I hated the grocery store. The last time I was there some person ran their cart up on my heel. I limped for three days.

  Owen sat my plate down at the little breakfast table and handed me a fork. "Eat up while it's hot."

  It was delicious. Even the coffee tasted better than when I made it.

  He sat across from me and dug into his eggs, which had cheese, by the way. Eggs and cheese weren't in my refrigerator either. But they were tasty. Did he add garlic and oregano, too?

  "You went to the store?"

  The caffeine was beginning to kick in nicely and the events around me were starting to make more sense. Owen had gone shopping. Holy shit.

  "I did. I just picked up a few staples like bread and milk in addition to bacon and eggs. I did notice that you had peanut butter but nothing to put it on."

  That's because I usually just ate it directly from the jar with a spoon. Or my finger. But no double dipping. I have standards.

  "Thank you, that's very thoughtful." I glanced at the clock on the wall which read seven-thirty.

  "The grocery store is open this early?"

  Owen gave me an amused smile. "I went to the twenty-four-hour market a few blocks away."

  "Hessell's? I had no idea it was open all the time."

  It was probably a new thing they were trying.

  But still...my shiny new boyfriend went to the grocery store at o-dark-early and then came back and cooked me breakfast. Pretty damn awesome.

  Wait...had he cleaned the counter with some type of disinfectant? I wasn't a total germaphobe but my bare ass had been there mere hours before.

  "I wanted to make sure that you had a decent meal before you went off to work. I assume someone, somewhere is getting married today?"

  "They are," I confirmed, taking the last bite of my bacon. I could eat like this every day if I had someone to make it for me. "A wedding at two o'clock and then the reception at the Shriner's Hall. They hired an Abba tribute band as the entertainment."

  "So you'll be dancing the night away, then?"

  Shaking my head, I chuckled at the thought. "Hardly. The reception is right after the ceremony and they only rented the hall until eight. I should be home at a decent hour."

  Will you be here?

  I didn't ask the question out loud and it sort of hung in the air between us.

  "If you're up for some company just let me know," Owen said, popping the last bite of toast into his mouth. "I can bring over some takeout for dinner and we can just relax, but if you're too tired that's fine, too."

  It was? He'd made it sound so casual and whatever. Did he want to see me tonight or not? I realized that I wanted to see him. A lot. And it didn't have anything to do with his cooking. I just liked being with him.

  "I'll send you a text," I promised. "It really just depends on how everything goes. If it's smooth sailing I'll have plenty of energy. If not, then all I'll want is a hot bath and a glass of wine."

  Owen smiled and stood to clear the table. "If you like I can probably do a back rub in addition to the takeout dinner."

  That wouldn't suck. A sexy man, a hot meal, and a back rub. Far better than anything I'd normally be doing, which was eating pe
anut butter from the jar and drinking Chardonnay while wearing my rattiest flannel pajamas.

  "Careful, I may take you up on that."

  "I hope you do." He placed the plates in the sink and then crooked his finger in a beckoning motion. "Now how about my good morning kiss?"

  How could I have forgotten to kiss him? Right...caffeine deficit.

  I moved to his side swiftly and let him wrap me in his strong arms. This was totally worth getting out of bed for. Our kiss was leisurely but sweet, despite the morning breath. I could get used to this. When he lifted his head, I was a breathless mess.

  "I need– I need to start getting ready or I'll be late."

  And I sounded breathless, too. Way to be obvious.

  "I'll just put the dishes in the dishwasher while you take a shower. Then I'll head out and get out of your hair."

  "What are you going to do today?"

  "Maybe go for a run and then there's always paperwork. Call me later."

  "I will." Hesitating for only a moment, I ran my hands up his chest and around his neck. "I don't suppose there's any way I can convince you to share the shower with me. I need someone to wash my back."

  His grin was pure sin. "Sounds like a good plan. Save water and all that."

  We hooked our arms together but he paused and tossed a glance over his shoulder toward the stove and cabinets.

  "And by the way, honey, I saw you looking over there earlier. I did clean the countertop. Completely sanitized."

  The man was freakin' perfect. Why did that make me so nervous?

  Chapter 21

  Owen

  I felt a little guilty that Emmy had to work all day while I puttered around for the most part. After my run, I'd stopped at the grocery store to refill my refrigerator and pantry after realizing that I didn't have much more food than Emmy did. Then I'd tried to concentrate on some paperwork but had ended up watching a movie instead, but halfway through fell asleep on the couch. By the time she'd texted me, I'd had a damn good nap and was raring to go for the evening.