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It had been a week.
One long, agonizing week of trying to forget the feel of her soft curves against him as he pinned her to that tree. Forget their lips barely brushing as they strategized, fighting the overwhelming need to devour each other and bugger whoever was watching. Her hoarse laugh when he made a joke at his own expense to distract her from the pain. The way her stomach quivered as he pulled buckshot out of her delicate skin. The feel of her cooling blood seeping through his shirt as he half held, half carried her. The lost look in her eyes when finally she came out of that god forsaken pub.
Owen was finding it impossible to forget much where Gwen Cooper was concerned.
There were only two remedies he could think of, and he doubted getting pissed would help.
Instead he showered and shaved, put on his best leather pants and grabbed his jacket, determined to pick up some nameless blonde with big tits and fuck her until he didn’t see Gwen’s face anymore.
Except when he opened his door, she was standing there.
She looked fragile, the scarlet of her blouse making her mouth even bolder against her pale skin, dark eyes sooty and enormous, like some delicate porcelain doll that he would break if he so much as touched. But there was a hint of determination in those eyes as well. “What—”
“You were right,” she cut him off sharply, those eyes never shifting from his.
He tried to read her, but her face and body were at odds, one fierce and determined, the other hesitant, unsure. “About what?”
Sorrow flashed over her features. “About everything.”
Suddenly his arms were full of her, and he gave up ever forgetting her.
She set the pace, fierce and hungry, satisfying all the promise of their abortive caress in the wood. Cupping her head, he thrust his tongue into her mouth and was ecstatic to feel her respond in kind, her fingers knotting in his hair as though afraid he would pull away. Like that was going to happen. He yanked at her jacket, pulling it down her arms roughly. “Took you bloody long enough, Cooper.”
Gwen’s hands plucked at his shirt, opening it to score her nails over his bare chest. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“But you are.”
He shoved her against the wall, relishing the crush of her soft curves against all his hard planes, the reality so much better than the memory.
She flinched with a gasp that had nothing to do with pleasure.
And that’s when he remembered.
She was still wounded. And he had just hurt her again.
When she reached for him again, he caught her wrists, pulling her arms up around his neck and moving close enough to rest his pelvis against hers without endangering her wound. Her fingers twined in his hair to pull fiercely, making him fight the instinctive need to grind against her. Instead he traced his lips along the underside of her jaw until they rested on her ear, enjoying the tremor of her reaction. “It’s one thing to fuck up against a tree in the woods,” he purred in her ear, feeling her response tremble through her, “but if we’re going to do it here in my apartment, I’d prefer to make use of the amenities, yeah?”
Her huge eyes got even larger and he knew this was the threshold. If she crossed this line, there would be no going back to her boyfriend and her normal life and everything that defined her. He waited, determined not to force this. It had to be her decision, or she would always blame him.
Her hesitation nearly killed him before finally she drew a deep, shuddering breath. “Yeah.”
He was no saint, for all his good intentions, so he didn’t wait for any further submission from her before swinging her up in his arms, careful to keep her wounded side away from him, enjoying the way she squealed and clutched around his neck. “I’m not crippled, Owen.”
“Think I don’t know that?” He caught her mouth as he strode through the apartment, nipping at her lips as he kicked his bedroom door open. “This is faster than trying to show you the way.”
“Apartment’s not that big.” Her fingers were pulling at the fabric of his shirt, making him hiss when her cool hand worked underneath to caress his shoulder.
“Big enough.”
She wriggled free of his hold, sliding down his body as her mouth tore at his, her hands strong and determined to find her way beneath his clothes. His own hunger got the better of him, his fingers clutching in her hair to allow him better access to her mouth, his free hand cupping her tight ass and pulling her hard against him.
When she jerked away from him, he growled and reached for her again. But she evaded him, and an instant later he stopped minding when she gripped the hem of her shirt and whipped it off over her head to cast aside, her pale skin now contrasted by the crimson lace of her bra. He wanted to think she’d worn it for him, but he suspected this was daily wear for her. The thought of her wearing it under her conservative PC uniform got him a little harder.
A moment later she proved she was wearing matching panties.
Admiring was one thing, but Owen wanted to feel her. He skinned out of his pants and shirt almost as quickly as she had, all the while enjoying the flush of her skin and the way her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing. When he matched her red for black, he reached out to hook his finger in her bra to draw her closer. A dozen smart comments jumped to his tongue, but he’d be damned before he buggered this for himself. Instead he bent to place a gentle kiss along her collarbone as he undid her bra, peeling the fabric away to the music of her soft gasp.
Her nipples were already hard when he reached up to cup them, his thumbs teasing over the tight tips. Her hands were still cool as they skated over his shoulders and up into his hair, drawing his head down. Taking the hint, he moved close enough for his tongue to flick out and circle one peak, draw it between his lips to nurse briefly before releasing it to move on again.
Her reaction was satisfying, a sweet little grunted hum of pleasure that resonated over his skin, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted her screaming.
Scooping her up, he dropped her on the bed, trapping her there with his own body, hands in her hair, mouth covering hers. She struggled, but he could feel it was a fight for dominance, not escape. Dominance she could have. Later.
Catching her hair, he yanked her head back, loving the light in her eyes when she glared at him. “Knew you’d be like this,” he encouraged her. “Knew you’d be fierce. How much you would want it.”
“Yeah? What about you?” she snarled.
“I think we’ve already established that fact.” He ground his erection against her, grateful for the friction as he skimmed a hand down her side, careful to avoid the boundaries of her bandage before coasting down and between her thighs. “Easy to tell on me. But you keep your secrets close, don’t you?”
There was no denying how much she wanted him.
“God, you’re so wet,” he groaned against her throat, his body half-pinning her in place as she twisted against him, seeking escape or relief from his fingers which teased against her folds. “How long have you been planning to show up here? Hours? Days?”
“I didn’t,” she hissed, clutching at his shoulder as she had in that abandoned house, when this strong, fiery woman had trusted him to take care of her.
“Liar.” There was no malice in his words though, and he enjoyed the faint tremor that went through her when he murmured the word in her ear. What had started harsh and aggressive eased into something more tender as he teased her labia apart, releasing the moisture dammed there to drizzle honey-thick over his fingers. “You’ve been thinking about this for weeks, girl, admit it.”
Her eyes were huge and dark with desire, but he could see the struggle going on behind them as she shook her head.
He chuckled and began fingering her with more intent, slipping into her, out and over, through her folds and back for more until she was whimpering beneath him. “You have,” he purred against her ear, “ever since that first kiss, ever since you felt how much of an effect you have on me.” He nudged his erection against her in reminder.
Her breath was coming in desperate gasps now, her hips pulsing against him in simulated sex. God, he wanted between her thighs, wanted to feel the wet, pillowy flesh now surrounding his finger clenching his cock instead. But not yet. She was so close, and he was going to enjoy this.
It wouldn’t hurt to let her know, though
“I do want you, Gwen,” he nuzzled against her cheek, knowing she couldn’t escape his words. “Ever since then, I’ve wanted you. There hasn’t been a day that I didn’t wonder if maybe today you’d kiss me again, or maybe I’d back you into a corner and pick up where we left off.” He kept his caresses gentle but focused, enjoying the way her fingers dug into him, the way she whimpered and writhed as her orgasm grew closer. “I’d watch you working, just walking around the office, and I’d get hard. And when you’d bend over Jack’s desk to show him something, your round ass sticking out and your knickers showing over the top of your jeans, I thought you would kill me.”
“Owen, please…” Her eyes closed, her face twisted in half pain, all ecstasy. Eager to see her shatter, he slid two fingers into her, his thumb taking up the attention on her clit.
“You know if we hadn’t been interrupted, I would have fucked you right there against that tree, don’t you?” He watched his words finish the job of his hands. “And you would have let me, wouldn’t you? You didn’t want to stop any more than I did. We would have fucked like wild animals out there in the woods. And it would have been incredible.”
She hitched against him, heaved, and with a long, guttural wail she came so hard she nearly forced him out of her, making his eyes water at the thought of how that would feel around his erection. He eased out of her and slumped back to watch her recover, enjoying the flush in her pale skin, her panties now tangled around her calves. He had a moment to wonder how they’d gotten down there when suddenly Gwen was in motion, shoving him back to pin him down, straddling his waist as her hand shove his briefs down to let his cock spring free. He grinned and helped her, enjoying her frenzy to get him as naked as she now was.
His humor transformed into raw need when she lowered herself onto him, surpassing all his fantasies in one fluid motion. “Oh, fuck, Gwen,” he groaned, all his surety lost in the overwhelming feel of her. He palmed her wild hair back off her face, pulling her down to kiss him as she built a quick, punishing rhythm that drove him mad. His hands trailed down her body, cupping those firm tits, savoring the feel of the hard nipples against his palms before continuing down to grip her hips, forcing her deeper, quicker. Her head arched back, that full, gorgeous mouth open in hoarse, gasping cries that shattered through him.
There was no hesitation as he flipped her back beneath him. But the moment he did, his need changed. He had what he wanted now, had her, and suddenly he needed to savor that. The hard pounding became slow, steady strokes, pulling all the way out to slowly drive back in, every inch of her clutching at him, fighting to hold him in place. He could feel her frenzy still driving her, but he fought it, keeping it slow, rich, lingering until she surrendered, her grip easing as she fell into his rhythm, her primal grunts turning into soft sighs and whimpers that showed there was more going on here than just submission.
Owen fought the thoughts of how much more.
It didn’t take long. He could feel her breaking beneath him, her fingers clutching into his forearms, her pussy fluttering around his cock as her breath came in lost, weak gasps. He was grateful. Considering how long he had waited for her already, he was surprised he’d managed to hold out this long.
He wasn’t prepared for her to burst into tears when she came.
He couldn’t stop to comfort her, his own body betraying him with its own release. The moment he could move again, he collapsed onto the bed, pulling her quaking, sobbing body into his arms. She clung to him, her face buried in his chest, tears mingling with the sweat to run down his side.
It broke his heart.
He couldn’t do anything but hold her, stroking her hair and murmuring meaningless comfort until she gradually quieted, still curled tight around him. He knew he had his own guilt to bear in her pain, knew he had hurt her without ever meaning to. But all he felt was grateful that he could offer her this comfort.
They must have dozed off.
When he woke, the bed beside him was empty.
“Gwen?” He sat up abruptly, instantly sure that she had pulled one of his favorite tricks and taken off while he was out. He couldn’t blame her. Why would she stay? They’d both gotten what they needed, what was the point in hanging around?
Then he saw her standing by the window. She looked so fragile, staring out into the bay, wearing his shirt which left only her legs exposed like a young girl. And he realized then that maybe, just maybe, what they needed wasn’t the sex at all.
He slung his legs over the side of the bed and started pulling on an old pair of jeans.
“I had a good job before this.”
Her voice stopped him, cracking and uncertain, sounding so completely lost he froze. She went on, laying out the course of her life, every mundane detail that had defined her life until now. Each word was an assault, a secret she shouldn’t share, the deepest insights of her heart meant for no other ears but her own. But he was here, and he heard ever quietly aching word when no one else did or could. It was no accident. She knew he was awake, that the darkness couldn’t shroud her from him, and that sense of trust opened something inside him, something he’d given up long ago as naïve and vulnerable. He rose and crossed silently behind her as at last her voice broke. “And I can’t tell anyone.”
He stopped bare inches away from her, studying her reflection in the window glass before hesitantly reaching out to rest his hands on her waist. When she covered them with her own, he stepped closer, savoring the scent of her hair, the feel of her trust radiating up his arms from her hands. “You can now,” he breathed gently.
She pulled his arms closer around her before turning to meet his mouth and he knew this was more than just comfort.
And for the first time in his life, the thought didn’t scare him shitless.