Page 84 of Breakaway Hearts

I take a deep breath, trying to decide if I want to play it cool, ask nicely, or flee, but Owen brings us to the other side of the room, where there’s a large open window, and puts himself between me and all the bodies. I don’t know if he saw my discomfort, or if that’s just the gentlemanly thing to do, but I’m grateful.

I let him put his hands on my hips and pull me close, grinding against me with a delicious friction, until I can’t take it anymore and offer my hand.

He follows me without a word, but I can feel his eyes on me the whole time I weave us through the crowd to the powder room by the entrance. We wait in line a few minutes, then he looks very surprised when I pull him in after me.

“What’s happening?” Owen asks with confusion.

I’m so envious of his lack of fear that I almost want to change my mind, but maybe it’s a good thing his mind doesn’t work that way. That he isn’t also a mess.

“I can do just sex,” I tell him, somewhat reluctantly, but also very firm. I don’t think either of us can tell if it’s because I’m not sure I want to offer that much, or if I wish it could be more.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he reacts to my tone. His smile almost makes me want to make fun of myself as well, but I’m not joking.

“No dates. No sleepovers. No emotions. None of that romantic shit or couple stuff. No meeting each other’s people. More than we already have,” I amend.

“Just mutually assured orgasms?” Owen asks, lifting my hair to kiss the column of my neck, which feels amazing, but I don’t want him venturing down to my breasts, so I turn around to face the mirror. My back is to his front, and I can feel his erection growing against my lower back as he leaves a trail of kisses down my neck in a way that has heat pooling between my thighs.

I nod.

“If that’s what you want,” he says, continuing his kisses. His hands go to my hips, where he pulls me flush into him. He finds my eyes in the mirror and waits until I nod to press his hand to my pussy, still over my dress, but I push into it, and it sets my nerves on fire. “But then I want exclusivity.”

This isn’t that. I don’t plan to sleep with anyone else, but agreeing not to feels way too much like a relationship.

“I don’t share,” he states, such a cocky response, but the heat in his eyes almost has me agreeing.

“I don’t belong to you,” I point out. “And I’m not going to fulfill some purity fantasy shit where⁠—”

“Both of us,” he specifies. “Even with condoms, it’s safer that way.”

He has a point, but this is supposed to be easier than strangers, not scarier.

It’s hard to dwell on that when he’s working me over my dress.

“You can end things whenever you want, the second I don’t do it for you.” I roll my eyes at his cocky smile. “But while we’re doing this…it’s just us.”

I feel like he wanted to say, ‘you’re mine’, or some possessive shit, and I might have ended things right here. But I freeze at those words, because they feel like a promise. And I know he means it as locking us into exclusivity so we can’t go out and sleep with other people, but all I need is the promise he won’t bring anyone else in.

And to keep it, obviously.

Owen takes his hand away from my core, waiting for my answer, so I meet his eyes in the mirror and say, “Okay.”

I shake my head at his stupid grin, especially when he asks, “May I?”

He waits for me to agree, then lifts my dress and slips his hand into my panties, his fingers sliding in between my folds. I know how wet I am, but he doesn’t say anything, just smiles to himself.

I grip the counter as he pushes one finger inside me, then another, working them in and out, driving me wild with how slowly he’s moving, like we have all night, and he isn’t setting my body on fire.

“Fuck, I’m about to come in my pants,” he says like he finds it hilarious. He’s watching my face in the mirror, which feels very much like romantic shit, but I’m purposely not looking back at him, so it’s less so.

“Or don’t.”

I lift my dress up in the back and lean ever so slightly forward, making the mistake of looking at him as his eyes widen in appreciation.

“Fuck, Maddie,” he mutters, shaking his head like he can’t believe his luck, and for a second, I’m worried he thinks I’m offering more than I’m intending, but then he says, “So wet and ready for me.”

I’m not sure if he had the condom on him or finds it in a drawer, but I nod once to his reflection, then look away as he slides into my pussy, inch by inch, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes me.

This wasn’t what Dr. Kapoor meant when he said he wanted me to let people in, but I feel like I’m giving up a lot of control right now, and clearly handling it okay, because instead of a panic attack, I feel bliss as Owen picks up his pace and pounds into me until I’m crying out that I’m coming, and it hits me so hard that I can’t breathe.