Leashed (Going to the Dogs) (10 page)

He rose, and she thought he was leaving, that he’d changed his mind. But the flutter of panic changed into more melting when he said, “I’m not going to make love to you on the closet floor.”

She reached up and grasped his hand, and it was a short trip to the bed. She reached for the buttons on her shirt and he covered her hands and undid them himself. He removed the garment and unsnapped her bra, and she let it fall. She shimmied out of her khaki mini, pushing the panties off as she went. His eyes told her how beautiful he found her.

Naked in front of him, she reached for his belt and undid it. He closed his eyes as she undid the button and zipper of his pants and pushed them off his hips. His shirt came off last. His smooth, powerful body enticed her. She curved her hand around his face, reveling in the sheer pleasure of finally touching him as she’d wanted to do so many times. Slipping her hands into his soft, curly hair, she pulled his head down to hers, kissing him hard, and he returned it with equal fervor. He pushed her back onto the bed, and then, in unspoken agreement, they paused in each other’s arms. He tugged her hands from his hair and pinned them on either side of her, then slowly slid them upward, until her body bowed away from the mattress, pressing the tips of her achingly tight and sensitive nipples to the hard planes of his hot chest.

He crossed her wrists, then slid his hand down her arm, his gaze following, creating a second sizzling wake behind the stroke of his hand. He cupped her breast and kneaded it, his thumb grazing tantalizingly over her nipple. His gaze flickered up to hers as he gently pinched the tip. She gasped and arched into him, the exquisite sensations spearing through her, rendering her speechless as well as mindless.

“I’ve been dying to know how you taste,” he said softly as he lowered his head. She could feel his warm breath brush against her oh-so-sensitive skin. She wanted to sink her fingers into his hair, urge him closer, urge him to please put an end to the excruciating wait. But he continued his slow exploration until his warm, wet mouth captured her breast. She cried out as his tongue swirled around her taunt nipple and the suction made her hips restless beneath his. He nudged her thighs apart with his knee, his mouth traveling to her other nipple as he let go of her hands to arch her back over his arm, pressing her more fully into him.

One hand slipped down over her rib cage, into the indentation of her waist as if he was memorizing every inch of her. Then it slipped over her hip to cup her butt.

She groaned when his fingertips traced along her thigh and found her most sensitive flesh. Her thighs fell open, giving him better access as he intensified his sensual assault. Her hands clenched in his so-very-soft hair as his teeth nipped at her breast. She could hear her panting moans turn into soft gasps as she spiraled up and up…and finally over the peak.

She was shaking hard as his mouth covered hers, his kisses as intoxicating as his fingers had been. Nothing had ever felt this good.

“Callie,” he murmured against her lips, “I don’t want to stop, but—”

“Then don’t.” She brushed her fingers against the nape of his neck, and he groaned as he bucked against her, his shaft hot and pulsing.

“Protection,” he gritted, his body tensing as she moved fully under him.

“Oh, God. I was so caught up…top drawer of the nightstand.”

He did what was necessary. His body covered hers again. She could feel him literally vibrating with need. She wrapped her legs around him, opening herself for his thrust. His broad palms covered her hips as he glided into her. She arched, moaned, and when he began to move faster, she couldn’t contain her pleasure. She’d had raw before, but with Owen it was basic, earthy…deeply satisfying.

She clung to him, both of them grunting as his thrusts surged deeper, faster. She wanted to slow things down, so she could remember every second, revel in every feeling, every sensation, but she couldn’t even keep her eyes open to watch him. He was driving her up again, and she could only give herself over to it, to the powerful emotions and blistering sensations bulleting through her.

This is just sex
. She reminded herself to make sure she didn’t lose sight of the ground rules.

What she actually experienced was an irrevocable bond being forged, a union like no other. And it was Owen. Her fantasy finally come to life.
 

And then whatever thoughts she had scattered completely as he slowed, and she could feel his body coil, tense, pull back, all in preparation for what she knew was coming. It was enough to send her over yet again, the waning sun spilling against their bodies like stardust, as she gasped for air and gave back equally with every swollen thrust he made.

He was all but growling when he came, his hands holding tightly to her hips as he bucked against her. She gave herself over to him, reveled in his shuddering release, tightening around him to give them both every last explosion of pleasure.

He was shaking as he slid from her body and let her legs drop from around his waist. He rolled them both so that she was lying on top of him. The cool air of the loft felt good on her slick skin. Neither of them moved. The sun sank below the skyline as their heartbeats eased to a somewhat steadier rhythm. It was the only steady thing about her at the moment.

It felt good, she decided, being in his arms. Held so tightly, both cuddled and coddled. But she would have to admit that she had expected him to roll over, get up, say that was great, dress, and leave. Given his aversion to commitment, somehow she figured he would be was cautious because his own emotions were in play. Maybe that was wishful thinking.

She had to prepare herself for it. She would have the sex she wanted with the bad boy, but this time she wouldn’t let him break her heart. She’d be prepared.

She must have withdrawn then, in some way, because he tightened his hold slightly, then slid his hand up to lift her chin.

“Hi there.”

She smiled at that. Men. Such a way with words. But it was the look in his eyes, a little amazed, but tempered with a lot of affection, that kept her from teasing him. She felt much the same way and wondered if he saw that in her eyes. “Hi yourself.”

“That was…” He let the words trail off, but held her gaze, his own intensifying in ways that had her heart rate kicking up again.

“Agreed,” she said softly. “It was.”

He gathered her closer, settling her between his legs, so she was pressed against the full length of him, chest to chest, hip to hip. The soft places on her easing against all the hard planes of him. It felt remarkably fantastic, and far too perfect. She never wanted to leave, and she had to force herself to relax. She knew what was coming. He’d warned her this was what it was, nothing more. No matter how stunned and replete he looked.

“Hang on a second.” He rose gently, and she slipped off his body. Reaching down into his jeans, he pulled out his cell phone.

“Ah, so you were ready to call the police.”

He grinned. “Of course, but you have no idea how glad I am right now that it was you instead of a thief.”

“Oh, I think I do.”

His grin widened and, reaching behind her, he pulled her ponytail loose. Her hair fell around her face as he pushed a speed dial button.

His eyes never left hers and he said into the phone. “Hey, this is Owen. I won’t be in tonight.”

She heard the incredulous tone of the person on the other end of the phone.

“Nope, you handle it.” He disconnected the call and cupped her face. His mouth found hers again and his hand delved into her hair, tugging her head back to get a better angle on her mouth.

She sank into him, her guard dropping a little bit, but not totally.

#

Later they fed the dogs, but left them in Owen’s loft. Ordered dinner in and ate and laughed and made love again.

Her hair fell forward as he brought her mouth to his. “Owen, I want to feel your weight on me.”

It caught his heart the way she said his name. It was deep and intimate. Callie was so true to herself, so open and sweet. She couldn’t be anything else, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. He shifted them both to their sides, paused there for a moment, kissed her, then moved the rest of the way, sinking deeply into her as she lifted up and wrapped her legs around his hips.
 

And he held her gaze in between long, slow kisses, moving inside of her, feeling her match his steady rhythm as easily as if they’d done this for centuries. He finally slid his arm beneath her, tilted her hips up that extra bit, so he could sink a tiny bit deeper, reach that spot he already knew was there, the one that made her gasp and tighten around him convulsively. The one he knew would take them both over the edge, as he looked into her eyes. “Callie…”

And those green windows to her soul grew shuttered then, at that one hoarsely uttered whisper. And it didn’t scare him so much as hurt him. Because it felt like she was his, dammit, and it made him sick to think he might do something, say something to hurt her, and the look in her eyes confirmed it. Even though they both knew the reality of what they were doing to each other.
 
Even as she pushed him over the edge. And where it would leave them.

Chapter Seven

“You
what
?” Brooke’s eyes narrowed, and she set down her martini on the polished marble surface of the bar at Colton
’s
, an upscale Manhattan restaurant. They were out for Brooke’s twenty-seventh birthday, and they had all ramped up their fashion game. The dark grey dress Brooke wore was typically conservative, but did have a flare of interest with the beads on the neckline, sleeves and hem. Brooke’s dark hair was pulled into a severe bun.

Callie had promised herself she wouldn’t feel defensive, but Brooke’s look made her squirm. “I slept with him, so just get over it.” Her own ensemble had been chosen with the help of Harper, who simply
knew
what Callie liked. So the coral organza thigh-length dress with a sporty racerback neckline and a skirt of oversized rosette appliqués fit her to a tee. Thinking about how Owen liked her hair loose, Callie had actually taken the time to use a curling iron, though she’d had to borrow it from Poe.

“I told you it was going to happen,” Harper said with a smug look. “Owen is charismatic and gorgeous.” Harper was wearing a red, multi-tonal sequined dress woven with a lightning motif throughout with a red mesh jacket, the lapels red silk. Harper’s tresses were a mass of golden curls. There wasn’t a man who passed them who didn’t gape.

“He’s funny and sweet, too,” Callie said, knowing she sounded defensive again.

“Oh, she’s a goner,” Poe said taking a long drink of her martini and looking very stylish in a one-shoulder snake print dress with a loose-fitting blouson top nipped at the waist. The style of the dress revealed the raven tattoo just below her collarbone, fashioned out of the word
nevermore
. Poe’s long, dark blue-streaked hair was pulled into a sleek, high ponytail.

Brooke groaned. “Are you sure about this?”

“I know what I’m getting into. I think he feels something for me.” Callie hoped that her defensiveness didn’t stem from any subtle sign she got from Owen.

“You have stars in your eyes, and I thought you were past all this, Callie,” Brooke said, signaling the bartender for another round.

“It’s not the same,” she insisted. “I saw it in his eyes.” She had seen it when he’d been making love to her. She was sure of it.

“Well, if you’re really sure about this, I guess I can’t change your mind.”

She touched Brooke’s arm, and her friend’s face and eyes softened. Callie knew her friend was just being tough because she was worried about her. “Nope. I’d love for you to meet him.”

“Let’s go now,” Harper said with a mischievous smile.

“That’s an exclusive club and a tough door. The drinks are like twenty-five bucks. We can’t get in without Owen’s say-so,” Brooke said, downing a quarter of her martini.

“I’ve got a voucher he gave me, so we can get in,” Poe said.

“I don’t need no stinking voucher,” Harper laughed. “I’m a regular there and I know the doorman.”

“Of course she does,” Poe murmured and rolled her eyes. “She knows practically everyone. It’s too pricey for me.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t stay long. We’re just going to meet Owen, and I’m sure he’ll be generous with the drinks.”

“I don’t know—” Callie was cut off.

“Come on. It’ll be fun,” Harper said. Brooke looked worried and Poe resigned.

Dragging Callie along, they all climbed into Harper’s limo and directed the driver to FLASH. Callie wasn’t sure this was such a good idea, but she wanted to see Owen. Yesterday had been special. Waking up in his arms this morning had been seductive and cozy, none of that awkward morning after. They fooled around in the shower and she’d been late for work. After walking the dogs, they had found it surprisingly easy to return Jack to her loft.

The limo pulled up in front of FLASH, which turned out to be fairly close to Colton
’s
. She would never have been able to get in, at least not without Harper or Poe’s voucher.

The line snaked around the corner. The ornate wooden door was guarded by a very big man. His shaved head gleamed in the streetlight glow, and the closer she got to him, the larger he loomed. No one was getting inside this club who didn’t belong there. But then the doorman saw Harper and his eyes lit up. She charmed him, and he let them through. The music was loud, and the place was full, with several celebrities, plenty of models who looked too young to drink, and tons of older, sharply dressed men to escort them. At the bar, Harper yelled over a pounding beat. The bartender told them Owen was in the back. Harper led the way. When they got there, the door was ajar. Callie pushed it open with a smile on her face, but it evaporated immediately.