Piece by Piece

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Piece by Piece Page 12

by Kaylee Ryan


  “Call Sam, see if she can get out for a couple of hours. We’ll make it a girls’ night.” Six months ago, that suggestion would have never come out of my mouth. I’ve grown as a person since moving to Tennessee. I know it’s Owen’s influence on my life. I have more money in my bank account than ever before, a safe place to lay my head at night, and a man I’ve fallen madly in love with, even if he doesn’t know it.

  “Good idea. Too bad Hadley and Derek are visiting his grandparents.” Sawyer reaches for her phone to call Sam, who, from Sawyer’s reaction, quickly agrees.

  “Where?” Sawyer asks me, pulling the phone away from her ear.

  “Anywhere.” I shrug. “You pick, or Sam can pick. I’m easy.”

  “Not my place.” I hear Sawyer say. “Royce is being broody.” She listens for a beat. “Yeah, your place is out. We know Jase will hover.” She laughs. “Let me ask her.” She pulls the phone away again. “Hey, Sam suggested one of our places since she’s still nursing Aria. Jase is home, so he’ll hover, and my place is out. What about yours?”

  “I-I don’t know. I’d have to ask Owen.”

  Sawyer tilts her head to the side and opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by the sound of Owen’s voice. “Ask me what?” he asks, as we both turn our heads to look at him.

  “Um, well, we wanted to get together and just hang out.”

  “Girls’ night,” Sawyer adds. “Your brother is being an ass, and Jase will hover. Aria will be there because Sam is still nursing. We asked Layla if we could do it at her place,” she fills him in.

  “Lay?” Owen speaks, and I turn my head to look at him. “It’s your home, baby. You don’t have to ask me for permission to invite someone over. You don’t have to ask my permission to change the paint on the walls or buy a blanket for the couch. It’s our home, baby.” His voice is low, and his deep blue eyes bore into mine, willing me to accept the words he’s saying.

  “Perfect.” Sawyer grins. “Sam, be at Layla and Owen’s at six. I know you can’t drink, so I’ll bring the supplies for virgin daiquiris. Oh, and we’re going to need your guacamole,” she tells her. They talk for a little longer, but I tune them out as Owen takes one step, then another until he’s standing right in front of me.

  “Hey.” I smile up at him.

  He shakes his head and reaches for my hand. “Come with me.” I don’t hesitate to follow him down the hallway and into his office. Once we’re inside, he shuts the door, and the sound of the lock clicking into place echoes throughout the room. With my hand still in his, Owen leads us behind his desk, where he moves everything to the side with the push of his hands, before resting those same hands on my hips and lifting me up onto his desk.

  I let out a squeak of surprise that has him grinning. “What’s it going to take, Layla?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “To trust that this is real? What’s it going to take for you to feel comfortable in our home?”

  “I do.” I say the words, but we both know that my insecurities are rearing their ugly head.

  “Baby, it’s me you’re talking to. Tell me what’s going on?”

  “Why won’t you have sex with me?” I blurt out. Now that the words are out there, I can’t take them back, and to be honest, I don’t want to. It’s something that’s been bothering me. He lets me touch him, and he will kiss me until we’re both breathless. He’s touched me over my clothes, but he never takes it any further. “Is there something wrong with me? How am I supposed to relax and accept us if you haven’t?”

  I watch as his face goes white, and his eyes turn an even darker shade of blue. “Is that what you think? Layla, no,” he’s quick to add, not letting me answer his question. He grabs his hand and places it over his hard cock. “This, baby, this is what you do to me. It’s taken every ounce of willpower I can muster to take things slow with you. I know you’ve never….” His voice trails off.

  “You let me touch you.”

  He hangs his head, almost as if he’s ashamed. “I know.”

  “Owen, look at me. Please.” He lifts his head, and I place my hands on either side of his face. “I want you, Owen Riggins. You are the only man to ever make me feel desired. You are the only man who I’ve ever trusted enough to have access to me… like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Sex, Riggins. I want it to be you. Only you. How can I trust that we’re both in this when you’re holding back? I’ve given you all of me. At least I want to. I moved away from the life I built to be with you. The family that I chose, I left to be with you. I took a chance on the feeling I get here.” I remove a hand from his face and place it over his heart. “Anytime I think of you, I have to catch my breath. My heart gallops in my chest, and my body… my body tingles at the thought of being with you. I want there to be an us, Owen, but I need to know that you’re in this too. You say all the right things, and you treat me like I’m made of glass, but I’m not. I’ve lived through so much, fought to be where I am, and I’m not going to shatter now. Especially not with you by my side.”

  “There is nothing I want more in this life than to be with you. In every way,” he adds. “I didn’t want to rush you. I’m here for the marathon, baby, not the sprint. We have time. I want you to feel comfortable and safe.”

  “I sleep in your arms every night, Owen. It doesn’t get much safer than that.”

  His forehead rests against mine, and I can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “Fuck it,” he murmurs. He stands to his full height, and with his hands on my hips, he lifts me from his desk, setting me back on my feet. “We’re leaving.”

  “What? We can’t leave. It’s not even lunchtime yet.”

  “Layla,” he warns. “We’re leaving, baby.” With one hand holding tight to mine, he doesn’t touch anything in his office, except for opening his desk drawer and grabbing his keys. He guides me out in the hall and reaches around to lock his office door before closing it. When we reach the reception desk, which is my desk, Sawyer is still there filling in for me. “We’re leaving,” Owen tells her. His voice is commanding, and if I didn’t already know better, I’d think he was pissed.

  “Everything okay?” Sawyer’s eyes flash to me, and I nod. Reaching into the bottom drawer of my desk, I grab my purse and phone, all while Owen’s hand is tightly clasped around mine.

  “Fine. Layla will be expecting you and Sam at six. Not a minute sooner.” He looks down at me, and the heat in his gaze sets my body on fire.

  “Oh, oh.” Sawyer grins. “Got it. Not a minute sooner. Layla, I’ve got you covered today.”

  “Owen, you have a meeting this afternoon,” I remind him.

  “Cancel it,” he says, not looking at Sawyer, but she replies anyway.

  “Got it, O.” Sawyer sounds thrilled to be canceling his meeting.

  “Thanks, sis,” he says, finally tearing his eyes from mine. He drops my hand only to throw his arm over my shoulder. “No calls, not until six,” he says, guiding us to the door.

  “Where are they going?” I hear Royce ask from behind us.

  “They’re making it an early day. Oh, and it’s girls’ night tonight.” The elevator doors slide closed before I can hear his reaction.

  Owen doesn’t stop moving until we reach his car. Silently, he opens the door for me and waits until I’m buckled in to close it. My eyes trail him as he walks around and slides behind the wheel. Leaning over the console, he slides his hand behind my neck and presses his lips to mine. All too quickly, the windows are fogging up, and we’re both gasping for breath.

  “I’ll show you, baby. I just need to get you home first.” With that, he buckles his seat belt and pulls out of the parking garage. His hand finds mine, our fingers tangled, and resting between us for the entire drive.

  When he pulls into the garage, the silence continues as he climbs out of the car. I don’t wait for him to open my door, opting to meet him at the front door. With his hand on the small of my back, he guides me into the house.
>
  We don’t stop until we reach his bedroom, our bedroom. The sound of the door closing behind us is loud. Then again, my nerves are on edge. I want this. I want him, but I still have those insecurities that I don’t know what I’m doing, that I won’t be good enough, and everything we have will end. Poof. Just like that.

  “Stop thinking, baby,” his husky voice greets me. He steps up behind me, aligning his front to my back. “It’s just me, just us. You tell me if I make you uncomfortable, and I’ll stop. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I won’t want you to stop. I want you,” I tell him, my voice breathy and filled with need. I turn in his arms so that we’re face-to-face.

  “I’ll go slow. You tell me if it’s too much. There is nothing you could ask of me that would make me not want to be with you. Tell me you understand that, Layla.”

  I nod, unable to speak from the lump of emotions forming in my throat.

  This. Is. Happening.

  Finally.

  “I need your words, Layla.”

  “I understand.”

  “You’re my heart, Layla Massey. I’m so in love with you. I can’t see past how you make my heart race.”

  “D-Did you say you love me?”

  “Caught that, did ya?” He gives me a boyish grin. He slides a hand behind my neck and bends his knees so that we’re eye to eye. “I love you. Piece by piece, you’ve stolen my heart, and I gotta tell ya, baby. I don’t want it back. It’s yours. I’m yours. Forever.” Then he kisses me. Not just any kiss. No, this kiss is slow and deep as if he needs to prove to me with his lips molded to mine that the words he speaks are true.

  My body trembles as I let this all sink in.

  Owen Riggins loves me.

  That’s when it hits me that I didn’t say it back. “Owen,” I say, pulling away. His lips trail down my neck.

  “Less talking. More kissing,” he says, nipping at my ear.

  “Owen,” I try again. He continues to run his lips over every part of my exposed skin, and I can’t think with his lips on me. “Stop, just for a minute.” Just like that he’s gone. His body is no longer aligned with mine, and his lips are no longer caressing my skin. “Hey.” Reaching up, I place my palm against his cheek as I move my body in close to his. I miss his warmth. “I liked what you were doing, but I needed your attention. Your full attention.”

  He nods, blowing out a breath. “You have it.”

  “You sure?” I ask, my voice playful.

  “You’ve always had it, Layla.” His hands slide around my waist, pulling me even closer, and I didn’t think that was possible. “Now, talk. I’m listening. It’s not my fault your sweet skin distracted me.”

  I roll my eyes, making him laugh. “You sure? You’re listening? This is important.”

  “I’m all ears, Lay. What’s going on?” He sobers, and I know I’ve got him.

  “Owen Riggins.” I stand on my tiptoes, bringing my mouth a breath away from his. “I love you.”

  He sucks air into his lungs and fuses his lips to mine. This time I won’t be stopping him.

  Chapter 17

  Owen

  Words are powerful. Hers bring me to my knees. I will never forget this moment. Never. Hearing her tell me that she loves me is like a jolt of electricity running through my veins. I can’t kiss her long enough, can’t get her close enough. This woman in my arms is my entire world.

  Her hands make their way to my dress pants. I have to force myself to pull my lips from hers and take a step back. Her chest is heaving, and her eyes are glassy from need—all for me. “Strip, Layla,” I say. My voice is deep and barely controlled. I need her naked, and as much as I’d love to take my time with her, the need inside me burns too hot. I know I need to be gentle, but time is not on our side. Not this time. I need to feel her heat wrapped around me.

  “Like this?” she asks her hands, starting at the top button of her blouse.

  I swallow hard and nod. “Like that.”

  “What about you?” I can see it in her eyes. She’s nervous, and that’s not going to work for me. Faster than ever before, I rid myself of my clothes and grip my cock as I watch her undress for me.

  “Better?” I ask. She nods, biting her lip. “Layla?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Faster, baby.” She fumbles with the buttons of her shirt. When she’s finally to the last one, she lets it fall from her shoulders and onto the floor. Her eyes never leave mine as she reaches behind her and unclasps her bra. She hesitates, holding the material to her chest.

  “You’re beautiful, Layla. It’s just me, baby. The man who loves you. You can trust me. Show me, baby.” Slowly, she drops her hands, taking her bra with her. Her full pert breasts are finally on full display for me. “Fuck,” I croak, at a loss for words for the gorgeous woman standing in front of me. She stands with her arms at her sides, her eyes locked on mine. I can see the tension in her shoulders. I step toward her and drop to my knees. My hands find the zipper of her skirt and give it a gentle tug. “Step,” I say once the material is pooling at her ankles.

  Settling her hands on my shoulders, she lifts one leg then the other. “Almost there, baby.” My hands roam over her calves, and the smooth skin of her thighs. Reaching her white thong, I slide a finger under each side of the waistband, and slip the tiny piece of fabric over her hips, and down her thighs. She steps out one leg at a time.

  “Owen.” Her voice trembles.

  “I’m right here, Layla. I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what you need.”

  “You,” she whispers, her voice so low I almost didn’t hear her. “I need you.”

  Unable to resist, I lean in and place a kiss on her belly before climbing to my feet. It takes Herculean effort to keep my eyes on hers and not let them trail over her delectable naked body. I know she needs my attention, and that’s what she’s going to get. We have a lifetime for me to memorize every inch of her.

  “Can I touch you?”

  She exhales loudly. “Finally.”

  I don’t even try to hold back my chuckle. “Oh, she’s got jokes,” I say, lifting her with my hands on her hips and toss her on the bed. Before she’s done bouncing, I’m crawling over the top of her. My lips find hers, cutting off our laughter. I kiss her until her body fully relaxes under me. Knowing I need to protect her, I pull away and reach for the box of condoms I bought when we got back from Florida from the nightstand. Tearing open the box, I toss a foil packet on the bed next to us, before dropping the box on the floor.

  “You good?” I ask, needing to know this is still what she wants.

  “I’m good.” Her hands roam down my chest.

  “Not this time, beautiful. You’ve had your fun for weeks. It’s my turn, and I need to make sure you’re ready for me.”

  “I’m ready,” she assures me.

  “Yeah?” I settle onto the bed next to her, resting my weight on my elbow so I can look down at her. “Let me see,” I say huskily.

  There is a slight tremble in my hands as I cup her breasts, rolling her pert nipple between my thumb and index finger. Layla arches her back off the bed, telling me without words that she likes what I’m doing. I shimmy down the bed a little, and capture a nipple in my mouth, while still playing with the other. Fuck me, but her skin is soft and sweet—not that I expected anything less from my Layla. Her hands roam over my back, and her nails begin to dig in.

  My lips trail from one breast to the other, while my hand glides over her belly until I find the lips of her pussy. With my index finger, I test her wetness, before sinking one digit inside her.

  “O-wen,” she breathes my name.

  “Too much?” I lift my head to gauge her reaction.

  “No.” She shakes her head. “It’s not enough.”

  My lips find their way to hers, and I kiss her lazily. I need her relaxed and dripping with need so I don’t hurt her. I lose track of time as we kiss, adding another finger and lazily pumping in and out of her.

  “Please,” she begs
against my lips. “More, Owen. I need more. You’re driving me insane.”

  “More of this,” I say, adding a third finger.

  “Unh, th-that’s nice, but I need you.”

  “This is me.”

  “No, this.” She slides her hand between our bodies that are slick with sweat and grips my cock.

  “You want my cock, baby?”

  “Now.”

  My girl is demanding. She’s ready. I move to hover over her, fisting my cock, stroking from root to tip as I stare down at the love of my life. “I love you, Layla. This is going to be uncomfortable, so you tell me if you need me to stop.”

  “I won’t shatter, Owen.” She reaches for the condom and tears it open, handing it to me. She watches intently. I’m sure so she can do it on her own the next time.

  She’s right. My girl is strong, a fighter. She’s fought to be where she is, to make a better life for herself, and I’m humbled she chose me to live her life with. Leaning down, I brace my hands on either side of her head. “Guide me in, Layla. We’re going to take this nice and slow.”

  Her soft hand grips my cock as she aligns me at her entrance. I’m torn. I want to watch her eyes as we feel each other for the first time, but I also want to distract her from the pain. I need to watch her to make sure she’s okay. I bend my head to kiss her lips but pull back as I push into her one slow, torturous inch at a time.

  “Oh.” Her mouth forms the perfect O as I push in a little further.

  “You good, babe?”

  “F-Full. So full.”

  “More?”

  “Yes.” Her nails dig into my back as I give her more. “I want all of you, Owen,” she says breathlessly.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You would never hurt me.” The look in her eyes tells me she believes those words deep in her soul. She’s right. I would never do anything to hurt her.

  “Give me your lips,” I say, dropping a little lower to kiss her. My tongue slides past her lips as I push all the way in. She raises her hips, taking everything I have to offer. I still once I’m fully sheathed inside her—partly because I want to memorize this moment, and partly because I’m close to falling over the edge. It’s been years, high school since that happened to me. Yet, here we are.

 

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