Neither one of us moved away.
Owen was closer than necessary now that I was free. It felt a little like the way he’d stood behind me at my first lesson, but the stakes were so much higher this time around.
“Did you just shiver?” he whispered, finally catching my eye in the mirror.
I nodded shyly. “You give a mean accidental massage. Your hands are . . . nice. Gentle.”
He glanced at my naked skin. “Whoops, still a mess at the bottom.”
This time he swept his hand across my lower back, making me giggle. I arched away.
“Ticklish?” he asked with a soft laugh.
“Maybe a little.”
We held each other’s gaze in the mirror, still close enough to give in to the pull we both seemed to be trying to ignore.
My breathing went shallow. My body was now in furnace mode, kicking out enough heat that my dress would be dry in minutes.
I turned so that we were face-to-face and looked up at him. Given we’d already kissed more frequently than what was acceptable for friends helping friends, it felt familiar being so close to him. His chest rose and fell, like freeing me from the dress was a marathon he’d just finished.
Do it.
The invasive thought was so overwhelming that I had to fight to keep from going up on my tiptoes to kiss him yet again.
Owen’s eyes were anchored to my mouth, which felt like a countdown to something.
Any time we kissed, it wasgood. There was no disputing what was fact. And despite all the static around Kai, and Owen’s history as the underappreciated third angle of a love triangle, it was about to happen again.
My stomach flipped at the thought of his lips on mine.
“I don’t want to kiss you,” he rasped as his gaze traveled around my face.
I could hear my heartbeat pulsing in my ears. “I don’t believe you,” I whispered.
I inched toward him, almost daring him to step back from me. Nothing made sense but somehow everything did.
“You’re drunk,” he countered without moving away.
“Not even close,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as desperate for him as I felt.
I went statue still, not wanting to break the spell, but inside my body was alive with a pulsing need toget on with it. To make the inevitable moment that we were both pretending wasn’t going to happen, happen.
“This is thelasttime,” Owen growled, then swept me into his arms.
His mouth found mine like the waiting had tripled his urgency, but within the first few seconds, I could sense that this kiss was different. His lips were almost fierce against mine, like he was angry that we were kissing but powerless to stop it. The words “hate fuck” flitted through my head, but it was impossible because I could never hate Owen, and we weren’t going to fuck, no matter how badly I wanted to.
Owen reclaimed the naked skin of my back without any of the hesitancy of a few minutes prior, like every inch of me was now fair game. His tongue flicked against my lips, and I stifled a little thankful noise before it could escape the back of my throat.
The only thing holding up my dress now was the tension of our bodies smashed together. Owen’s hands slid down to cup my ass, drawing me closer still, until I had zero doubt about what I felt pressing up against me. I slid my hand between us and against his hardness.
“Brooke,” he whispered.
I kept going, drawing my hand up and down his stiff cock as we kissed. His fingertips migrated down my back to the hem of my dress, drawing it up the sides of my thighs and getting a whimper out of me. He turned me so that my ass was up against the sturdy table, never breaking off the kiss, then picked me up and sat me on top of it and bumped his way past my knees. I smiled against his mouth, then drew in a sharp breath when he pressed his hand against the heat between my legs.
The faintest touch through cotton was enough to send shocks through my body.
“We should stop,” he murmured as he moved to take my earlobe in his mouth.
