Mei.
I wake with a start, a cold chill racing down my spine. The room is dark, and for a moment, I’m disoriented. I’d been dreaming about my dad’s condo in Missouri. But, instead of Dad coming in after a late shift, it was Owen. He’d been in his boxers and shivering. When I’d gone to him, his fingers and toes were black from frostbite. His eyes were murky and his skin was cold. He was a corpse standing in the doorway.
“Mei.”
The zombie-like murmur of my name makes my heart hammer in my chest. It takes a second to realize it’s not from my dream. Owen isn’t dead and I’m at his house, not Dad’s.
The doorknob rattles again.
It’s soft, but insistent enough it has me flying out of bed to stop the noise. I unlock the door and am not surprised to see the massive form of a man standing before me. The nightlight in the hallway casts a yellow glow on the warm, sculpted curves of his muscles. He sways slightly.
Asleep.
Since I’ve missed him, and he’s been avoiding me, I take advantage of the vulnerable moment by wrapping my arms around him. He remains still as I hug him. A grunt escapes him which has me pulling away.
“Let’s get back to bed,” I murmur. “Come on.”
I take his hand and tug him toward his room. He’s resistant at first, but then relaxes, allowing me to guide him away. Once inside his room, he shuts the door behind us. Since he can deactivate an alarm while asleep, this isn’t an indicator that he’s a fully awake.
“Over here,” I whisper, grateful for the moonlight coming in through the window to allow me to see. “Time for sleep.”
I help him into bed, but the second I start to retreat, his hand seizes mine lightning quick.
“Stay.”
His single, gravelly word has my flesh tingling.
“Sleep, Owen.”
“I’m awake now.”
He tugs my hand, and this time, I go to him. His body is so much larger than mine. Even half asleep, he’s able to effortlessly manhandle me over his body and tuck me into his side. Relief floods through me at being so close to him. Greedily, I slide my palm up over his muscular chest and touch his soft chest hair between his pectorals. My leg slides between both of his, tangling with them. It feels good to be glued to his side.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I let out a sad sigh. “I’m not.”
His fingers find my hip and he strokes me over my sleep shirt. “Not about what we did. About running. I’m a fucking failure.”
I frown and shake my head. “You’re not a failure. Is your life messy? Sure. But you’re still a great dad and…”
“And what?”
“And I think you’re amazing.”
In the dark, it’s easy to admit these things. He kisses my head. “I think you’re amazing too, angel.”
Angel?
I smile at his words. Unable to keep from touching him, I let my fingertips drift down his abs. I’m impressed with how perfect his body is, especially for his age. He lets out a hiss when my finger circles his bellybutton. Then, because I can’t stop myself, I boldly slip my hand down to his boxers and cup his throbbing cock over the material.
“Mei.”
Slowly, I rub at him, breathing heavily. “Does it feel good?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Want me to stop?”
