Page 28 of Owen
He sucks his lips into his mouth.
I continue. “If you ever told me how good I looked in an outfit, I would wear it every day.” His heart beats faster beneath the palms of my hands. “And if you organized theater dates, I would find ways to spend time with you, and you alone. And I would never make you wear a pink suit to get married in.”
He acknowledges my words with a nod, his hands skimming slowly down my spine and back up again.
“I don’t know you, but inside each of us lies something special, Owen. You’ve never been shown what’s special about you. And you are special. If your parents can’t see that, and youcan’t either, then with time, you will. Until then, go out there into that big, imperfect world and discover what makes you happy, and no one else but you can do that.” I tap his chest reassuringly before I rub my fingertips across the soft, light hair nestled there.
The warm night air makes everything seem so much more perfect with him.
As if the cicadas got the memo, they all instantly stop singing, making Owen’s gulp clearly audible. He bites the side of his mouth nervously. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Accepting me for all the fuckedupness that is me, without truly knowing who I am, and agreeing to never make me wear a pink floral suit.”
Unladylike, I snort.
Owen pinches my waist. “So, tell me, if I told you my favorite outfit on you is naked, would you go about like this all day?” he teases.
“Oh, you’re good.” I roll my eyes as a burst of laughter and loud voices travel around the corner to us from the forecourt.
“Shit,” I spit out, my voice low in panic. I duck for cover, sinking into the water up to my neck. “They can’t see me.” I dart my eyes around the vast space, trying to locate my clothes.
Calmly, Owen moves through the water. On powerful arms, he pulls himself out of the pool onto the patio. Dashing across to the bar, his feet slap loudly as he runs until he finds what he’s looking for. Hitting a switch on the wall, he plunges the pool and the outside area into darkness.
I squint, letting my eyes adjust to the blackened space, and make out a faint Owen-shaped silhouette scooping up my clothes.
Chatter and laughter from the rest of my team move closer, making my heart rapidly bounce in my chest.
“Shit, I can’t find your panties.” He’s doing a shitty job of keeping quiet.
“They’re in the pool,” I hiss, spinning around on the balls of my feet, struggling to see anything but one foot in front of me. “I can’t find them.”
“Leave them and get out, Jade,” he whisper-shouts.
I scurry across to the side as fast as the water will allow.
Strong hands help me out and, as naked as the day I was born, I grab my sopping dress out of Owen’s clutches. “Here’s your bag.” He hands me that, too.
“I have to go. How do I get out of here without them seeing me?” My voice is now a low, desperate whisper.
“Go round that way.” A shadowy hand points in the bar’s direction. “Follow the path around the back of our villa. It will take you to your terrace.” Owen grabs my hand, pulling me along, and I have to run double time to keep up with him. “Quick.” He guides me around the back of the bar and onto the secret pathway, and I make a beeline to my villa.
“Wait, can I see you again?” he calls after me.
I run back to him and smack a kiss on his lips. “See you tomorrow.”
I can see the faint outline of his grin in the pitch black.
“For lesson two,” I tease, cupping his junk.
Laying his hand over mine, he grinds himself against our hands. “See you tomorrow, Ms. Sommers.”
“I prefer Hotshot.” I squeeze his balls.
“Ah, ah, okay.” He winces. “Hotshot.”
I release my tight grip. “Good boy.” And kiss him again.
