Just a Number(13)

“This age thing really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

He looks perplexed. “It doesn’t bother you?”

I shake my head. “Not in the slightest. It might if this were five years ago, but right now? I couldn’t care less.” I lean in close, our noses less than an inch from touching. “No one has to know, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You’re sure this is what you want?” The desire in his eyes tells me what he wants; he just wants to make sure it’s one hundred percent consensual.

Running my hand over his jaw, I laugh breathily and brush the tip of my nose over his. “I wouldn’t be throwing myself at you if I didn’t.”

The awkward air in the room suddenly dissipates as Owen leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to mine. I whimper, releasing his hand from mine and bringing it up to mirror the position of the other along his chiseled jaw. Maybe it’s due to the bottle of wine coursing through our veins, but things between us escalate quickly, and Owen’s hands ensnare my hips, pulling me onto his lap. Now that I’m straddling his thighs, I can feel his erection pressing firmly against me, and I shift my hips forward to help ease the steady pulse of arousal.

“God, Amelia,” he moans into my mouth as I shift my hips again. Every time he calls me this, I tremble. “We shouldn’t do this here...”

“Then take me upstairs,” I tell him, throwing my head back so he can kiss the column of my throat.

He groans, gripping my ass and standing up. I wrap my legs around his waist as he makes his way for the stairs, and when we reach the top, I pull his face back to mine and kiss him deeply, my tongue seeking his out voraciously. He kicks my bedroom door closed and lowers us to my bed, pressing himself firmly between my legs. This time, it’s his hips that move, thrusting against me and making my skin tingle and ache with pure ecstasy.

My fantasies of Owen and me locked in a similar embrace don’t even compare to how his hands feel moving up from my ass to underneath my shirt. His hands are warm as they run up the length of my stomach and toward my breasts. When he palms them both, my back arches off the bed as much as it can beneath him. I mewl into his fervent kiss as he pulls the cups to my bra down, exposing my hardened nipples to his dexterous fingers.

“Take it off,” I command breathlessly. “All of it.”

Owen pushes himself to his knees, and I sit up, lifting my arms as he removes my shirt and tosses it to the floor. While he removes his own, I reach behind me and unclasp my bra, tossing it to the floor, too. My eyes move over his bare chest, and I bring my hands up to touch him for the first time, letting them glide slowly down his body and through the light hair under his belly button that disappears behind his jeans. My fingers rest on the buckle of his belt, and I look up at him, giving him the opportunity to stop this if he’s still uncertain. All I see is how much he wants this—needs it, even—and I slip the leather from the buckle and work the button of his jeans free before lowering the zipper carefully. Brazenly, I guide my hand into his pants and grip his erection. His eyes close and his hips move in time with my wrist. Watching him come undone is so hot.

With a groan, he slips his hands into his jeans at his hips and slides them down as far as he can before having to stand up and kick them off. Naturally, having seen the rest of him already, I can’t help but focus on his erection. Now, I’ve seen a few in my lifetime, and while this one looks no different—maybe a little thicker and longer than some—I think the fact that it’s Owen’s is what has me so transfixed.

It isn’t until he repositions himself between my thighs that I’m able to tear my gaze away from it, meeting his intense gaze again. As he lowers his lips to mine, his fingers dip behind the waist of my jeans and slip the metal button through the eyelet before he pulls them slowly down my legs. The pace is agonizing, and once my jeans have fallen from the bed, his hand moves up my inner thigh until his fingers find my sensitive flesh, wet with my need for him.

As his fingers move back and forth, in and out, I’m breathing pretty heavily, my pulse is racing, and I’m fighting the urge to wrap my legs around him and pull him to me. While I’ve had plenty of healthy relationships and enjoyed sex over the years, I’ve never quite felt this way. There’s something about Owen that excites me in a way I’ve never experienced; he calls to me like no other man ever has.

I whimper when he pulls his hand from between my thighs, but am soon rejoicing when he settles between my legs again, and the tip of his erection rests against my leg. My legs move up instinctively, positioning our bodies, and my heels dig lightly into his ass to coax him forward. All of a sudden, his eyes widen, and he freezes.