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Seven(20)

By:Claire Kent


“Stop pouting.” Feeling more in control of her emotions, she shifted to her side so she was facing him. “Even up-and-coming corporate executives sometimes don’t get their way in everything and have to go cuddle-free.”

Narrowing his eyes, he glared at her arrogantly and didn’t respond, but she could tell he was trying to hide a smile.

They lay in silence for about fifteen minutes—Amy on her side of the bed, Owen on his.

Eventually, Amy started to feel sappy again, this time just from gazing at him.

He was watching her constantly, and he had the focused, intent expression that he always wore when he was working. The incongruity between his cool concentration and his debauched nakedness was irresistible. And the little details about him that she noticed so easily—the way the hairs in one of his eyebrows were ruffled, the faint red scratches from her fingernails on his right shoulder, the light smears of dried fluid on his lower belly, thighs, and cock—made him seem more real, more human, more loved.

Feeling heat rise in her cheeks as she realized what she’d just thought, she flipped over onto her back again and stared once more at the ceiling.

“Amy?” Owen murmured.

“Hmm?” she replied, swallowing hard.

Damn it, he’d moved over until he was right next to her again, his fingers tracing the curve of one shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Giving him a mildly exasperated look, she replied, “Nothing’s wrong. I’m hot and tired. We’ve already covered this.”

His lips lowered to where he’d been stroking her shoulder with heart-stopping gentleness. “I don’t believe you,” he said huskily, over her skin. His lips eased toward her neck. Settled on her throbbing pulse. “Tell me why you’re acting so prickly.”

“I’m not prickly.” Her mouth fell open as his lips and tongue teased her deliciously. “I told you, I’m…” Her words transformed into a sigh of pleasure as the fingers of one of his hands started stroking her damp hair back from her face.

“I thought you were enjoying this.” He trailed his kisses up to her jaw. “If you’re not, just tell me and we’ll stop.”

She breathed out a laugh. “Owen, I just had five orgasms. How can you doubt whether I’m enjoying it.”

“True. But you can enjoy something physically and not really be into it. I want this to be good for you in every way.”

A strange conflict was going on in her heart—between mushy affection and panicked desperation. “As much as you want to win?”

She regretted the words as soon as she’d spoken them. Couldn’t believe she’d voiced something so petty, so revealing. Her defenses must be lowered farther than she’d imagined.

Maybe Owen would ignore the words or not read too much into them. Or maybe he wouldn’t even notice them.

And maybe the sun would change its mind one day and start setting in the east. Of course, Owen would notice them.

His face tightened, and he lifted his head to peer at her closely. “Amy?”

She shook her head. “Never mind. That was stupid. I’m into this all the way.” She managed a wobbly smile, mentally pleading with him to move on. “Forget I said that.”

“I’m not going to forget you said that.” He took her face between his hands. “What did you mean?”

“Nothing. My mind is numb from all the orgasms. No use expecting me to talk sense.”

“Amy, tell me what’s wrong. If you want to say something—”

“I don’t. Stop trying to read into everything. Why can’t we just have great sex and leave it at that?”

His lips tightened abruptly, and she had no way of understanding what was going on behind his eyes.

She sighed. If she didn’t pull it together soon, the most important thing in her life would be destroyed. She raised her hands to cup the back of his head. “Owen, it’s really nothing. Don’t you ever say something that’s just silly, that doesn’t have any real meaning?”

He seemed to reflect on this a minute. “No. I don’t believe I do.”

“Well, normal people do. So let it go.”

Nodding, he lowered his face once more to her jaw line. Nibbled his way to her lips. “You know, don’t you,” he said huskily, his breath wafting over her skin irresistibly, “that pleasing you is more important to me than winning?”

She didn’t know anything of the kind, and he was probably just saying it to smooth over her ruffled feathers. But the words filled her heart until it threatened to overflow. “Sure it is,” she managed to say, her hands caressing his thick hair.