Page 43 of Unplanned Target

“That’s fine. I don’t mind.” I would probably say just about anything to get him to touch me right now, but I’m still telling the truth. I don’t think I would mind if Owen was with me tomorrow and the next day. If he was still around to talk to next week or next month.

Being around him has been easy. Even on one of the scariest, and most difficult days of my life.

“I think I want you to wait before you make a decision like that.” Owen’s hips rock against me, the tiniest taste of what I’m longing for. “There’s no reason to rush this.”

“I disagree greatly.” I try to pull my hands from his grip. “Did you not hear me say it’s been ten years?”

Granted, it wasn’t ten long years. I was very busy for the bulk of it. Being a mom. Digging myself out of the financial hole my ex-husband left me in. Building a business I’m proud of. Helping Tony navigate our mother’s care as she started to deteriorate.

The time flew by for the most part. Definitely felt like it went way faster than this last five minutes has.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t willing to take care of your needs.” Owen’s hand finally moves higher, his thumb dragging across my nipple through the fabric of my shirt and bra. “I just said there would be no fucking.”

Oh. I could get behind that plan, actually.

“Tell me what you want.” Owen teases my already stiffened peek with a deft touch. “What can I do for you?”

I love how giving Owen is. The way he doesn’t hesitate to step in and do what needs to be done. I haven’t had that in my life before, and it’s something I always dreamed of, but never believed would be a reality.

And I appreciate that it is. Find it incredibly attractive that Owen is just as willing and capable of handling anything that happens as I am.

However...

I didn’t become independent by accident. I also didn’t do it by design. Sitting back and letting someone take care of me is simply not in my DNA. It never has been and never will be.

So as sweet and selfless as it is for Owen to offer to take care of me, that’s not what I want. And since I’m well past the days of being an insecure girl who worries what men think of her, I don’t mind telling him that.

“I want us to take care of each other’s needs.” I don’t care how we accomplish it. Don’t mind the means or the application. I just don’t want to be the only person who gets something out of this. That sounds ungratifying as hell.

“That’s not a terrible plan.” Owen leans back, giving me the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen. “I’m going to put you in charge of making all our plans from now on.”

If any other man said that to me, I would tell him to take his weaponized incompetence and cram it up his craphole.

But this is Owen. He doesn’t mean I’ll be solely responsible for the plan. That would never happen. I think it would drive him just as crazy to sit by idly as it does me. But I’m not against having him under my command. At least part of the time. I’m also not against being under his command part of the time.

But not tonight.

“Then you’re probably going to have to let me go, otherwise I won’t get to be an active participant in the plan. And you’re going to have to try to execute it one-handed.”

“I’m pretty sure I could accomplish more with one hand then most people can with two.” Proving his point, Owen flips the button of my jeans free before dragging down the zipper. “I wouldn’t mind if our new plan was me proving that to you.”

“I didn’t realize this was still up for negotiation.” I’m caught between eagerness to see what he’ll do next, and the desire to be the one doing. “I thought you liked my plan.”

“I do. And we can still go with your plan. I just might make a little bit of an update to it.” Owen works his free hand into the waistband of my panties, the brush of his fingers against my skin making me gasp. “Because I think if I let you go, you are going to make it exceptionally hard for me to stay focused.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I would do.” The last word cuts off sharply as Owen works his hand deeper, his touch tracing the seam of my pussy.

“That absolutely sounds like something you would do. And someday, I’ll let you.” He curves his fingers, sliding them against my heated flesh. “But not today.”

When he teases against my clit, my legs nearly buckle. The only thing holding me up is the grip he has on my wrists and the brace of his body against mine. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched by another person, I can’t even control the sound that comes out of me. It’s not a moan or a whimper. It’s not a groan or a cry. It’s something guttural and a little feral.

“See?” His deep voice is low in my ear. “Imagine trying to get anything done while I touch you like this.” He strums my hardened nub in a steady rhythm that has me burning up inside. “Now you can just enjoy letting me make you feel good.”

I understand what he’s trying to accomplish in theory. What Owen doesn’t seem to understand, is a distraction probably would have been very useful right now. Because without it⁠—

My orgasm isn’t quite as spontaneous as I initially expected, but it certainly didn’t take much convincing to bring it on. I doubt Owen put in more than a minute’s worth of effort, and already my whole body is jerking against his, legs quaking, as I try to support at least a little of my own weight.

It’s a hopeless endeavor. Primarily because of Owen’s low voice in my ear, telling me how good I was to give him what he wanted and the unrelentingly steady stroke of his fingers. But I still try.