Just a Number(137)

When our song ends, I feel a familiar spark as a hand touches the small of my back, and I turn to see Owen there. “May I cut in?” he asks politely, and my dad obliges with a silent nod before heading off to find his new bride.

“How’s your night?” Owen inquires, trying to make small talk while he glides us across the wood floor.

“It’s pretty great so far,” I respond as he turns us, pulling me closer to his body. “Yours?”

Owen’s sparkling blue eyes drift to the twinkly lights above us, and he shrugs. “Things are looking up.”

I laugh, and Owen spins me twice before pulling me back into the security of his arms. I might not have the grace to slow dance, but in Owen’s arms, I felt safe enough to let him lead. He pulls me closer, my chest pressed firmly against his. I feel the warmth of his body, smell the musky scent of his cologne, and see the desire in his eyes as they move from mine to my cleavage.

He’s such a guy.

His fingers curl into the fabric of my dress, teasing the swell of my ass. “How long do you think we have to stay?”

I look around at everyone dancing and having a good time. I spot my dad and Carla, who in turn spot us and raise their champagne glasses in greeting. I raise a hand back and wave before turning to Owen. “At least until the bride and groom are drunk and won’t notice we’ve disappeared,” I tell him.

Owen isn’t pleased by this plan and groans. I can feel his urgency as his hands pull me impossibly closer, and he leans down, his warm breath fanning the bare skin of my neck and shoulder and giving me goosebumps. Then his lips brush the shell of my ear, and he whispers, “If this were our wedding, I’d already have dragged you into the nearest coat closet and had you pressed up against a wall with my cock buried deep inside you.” He knows exactly what this level of dirty talk does to me, and I have to keep myself from ripping his clothes off in the middle of the dance floor while my pulse quickens. Heat races through my body, heading straight between my legs and making me wet for him. “There’d be no waiting until the end of the night to get you back to the hotel room. I’d want to consummate our marriage as soon as possible.”

I giggle, feeling a blush shoot all the way through my body until my toes and fingers curl. “And you’d wait until the reception? And here I thought you were impulsive.”

He pulls back, looking somewhat confused, so with a wicked grin, I tug on his tie and pull him close, my lips grazing his ear lobe. “I’d have pulled you into the coat closet within minutes of saying ‘I do.’”

Owen’s eyes grow wide, and he looks around the room. My dad and Carla are both preoccupied with their guests, and no one seems to be paying much attention to us, so Owen takes my hand and we rush from the banquet hall, laughing as we head straight for the coat closet just beyond the room. The door is unlocked, the room unoccupied, and we slip in. Owen pushes me against the door, his lips attacking mine as the lock clicks behind me.

His hands are all over me, grabbing, pushing, pinching, pulling. They move down my body, and his fingers work quickly to gather my skirt while I mindlessly fumble with his belt and then the button on his pants. His pants and underwear fall to the floor, pooling around his ankles, and he pulls my panties to the side before lifting me off the ground and plunging inside of me. There was no need for foreplay, because the things he said to me on the dance floor had done exactly as he’d intended.

Our eyes lock as Owen’s hips move with purpose. I bite my lip to keep from crying out, but when I feel my orgasm beginning to swell, I pull Owen’s face to mine and kiss him hard, moaning and mewling into his mouth as he comes. Moments later, I follow suit, my legs tightening around him and my body trembling.

The scent of sex lingers in the air, and the sound of our breathing fills the room. My skin is sticky with sweat, and I assume my hair is not nearly as immaculate as it was ten minutes ago. Owen remains inside me for a moment longer, his slick forehead pressed against my sternum before he looks up. The look on his face catches me off guard, and I regard him with curiosity.

“This isn’t how I planned it in my head, and I didn’t see it happening for a while yet, but I just need to know…”

I inhale deeply, realization snapping into place as the fog of my orgasm clears. He hasn’t even asked me yet, and my eyes burn with unshed tears. My emotions have been uncontrollable lately.

“Amelia, will you marry me?”

My chin quivers and tears slip from my eyes as my head bobs up and down. “Yes,” I whisper, my voice breaking in my happiness. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”