Four Years Later (17 page)

I can feel him, everywhere. Hovering above him, I stare down at his beautiful face, drink him in, touch him however I want. Wherever I want. I smooth his hair away from his forehead, letting the soft strands sift through my fingers, and he closes his eyes, a low, masculine sound of pleasure escaping him.

I feel that sound pulse throughout my body, settling between my legs, and I press into him, my mouth meeting his, our kiss becoming deep. Deeper. Our tongues slide against each other, our bodies rock, and he grips my waist, stilling me, keeping me in place.

But I don’t want to be kept in place. I feel restless, needy. I want more. More Owen, more of his mouth, more of his hands, more of his tongue. He breaks our kiss to feather his lips across my jaw, down my throat, his tongue darting out to lick, and I clutch him close. My arms wrap around his neck, and I close my eyes as I tilt my head back.

We’re taking it from zero to one hundred between us and I don’t even care. I’ve already thrown caution out the window.

All I want is Owen.

It’s getting out of control and quick between us. I’d wanted to keep it outside on purpose, for fear I’d get in over my head and want to get Chelsea naked. I had a sense it would be good between us the moment our lips first touched. But I had no idea she would be so incredibly responsive, so eager, feel so fucking right in my arms. I hold her close but not too close, my fingers pressing into the soft skin just above her hips, trying my best to keep her still as I map a path of fire down her neck with my lips.

I lick, I nibble, I taste. My cock is painfully hard beneath the button fly of my jeans and it would be so easy. Easy to strip her of her clothes, touch her in all the right places, show her how to touch me in all the right places and then fuck her right here in the backseat of my car.

So. Freaking. Easy.

But I don’t do any of that. I’m not going to push. She’s totally inexperienced—I can tell just by her at first tentative kiss, how nervous she got, how nervous she’s always been with me. I gotta take it slow for her sake. Gotta remember that before I let myself lose complete control and I get busy corrupting her for the rest of the night.

Breaking our kiss, I lean my head back against the seat, staring up at her. She’s beautiful, her lips swollen from our kisses, her wavy hair in complete sexy disarray around her face, all from my fingers. Her chest rises and falls at a rapid pace and it would be so easy to slip my hands beneath her loose sweater and feel her. Cup her. Thumb her nipples, make them hard before I draw one into my mouth …

Inhaling sharply, I push those thoughts out of my head. My overly vivid imagination is definitely not helping matters.

“Owen.” Her voice sounds needy, edgy, and I know what she wants. I want it, too. “What are you doing?”

But I’m not going to give it to her. Not tonight.

“I should get you home.” I thread my fingers through her hair, brushing them through the long, dark strands again and again. She slowly closes her eyes, her lush mouth parted, a shuddery little breath escaping her that I feel all the way down to my dick.

“Maybe I don’t want to go home,” she admits.

“We need to get you home.” The disappointment on her face is clear and I decide to be honest with her. “I’m not going to fuck you in the backseat of my car, Chels. You deserve better than that.”
For your first time,
I want to say but don’t.

What if I’m wrong that she’s a virgin? I don’t think I am. She acts like a girl who has zero experience and for once, I’m okay with that. The mere idea of Chelsea being with another guy fills me with pure, white-hot rage. I can’t stand the thought.

Since when did I turn into such a possessive caveman? Ready to beat my chest with my fists and declare Chelsea as mine. She belongs to no one else.

And I never feel that way about any girl.

Her gaze softens and she leans down, kissing me once. Twice, her lips lingering. Like she never wants this to end. I feel the same way. “Okay.” She sounds sad. Defeated. And I hate that.

“Hey.” I catch her chin, keeping her face close to mine. Her breath flutters across my lips, smelling wintergreen fresh from the mints we grabbed before we left the restaurant. I close my eyes for a brief moment, searching for the strength I’m gonna need to be able to resist her.

Because really, I’d rather do nothing but fuck her in the backseat of my car. I have no problem with that whatsoever.

I open my eyes to find her studying me as she licks her lips, her expression hopeful, frustrated … beautiful.

Fuck
, I like this girl. A lot. How am I going to keep her in my life? Will she be able to stand me once everything gets all crazy again? I barely have time for myself, let alone someone else.

“I’m going to be busy,” I say, letting my thumb drift across her chin. “Once I get back on the football team, my schedule is gonna go to hell. And with work and school, it’ll be crazy.”

She exhales softly, sadness etched all over her face. “Okay. I get it. You don’t have time to see me.”

“That is definitely not what I’m saying.” I kiss her because I can’t help it. Her lips are pure temptation. Soft and pink and fucking delicious. “I’m asking you to be patient with me,” I whisper after I end the kiss. “I know you’re busy, too.”

“Right.” She nods, her brow wrinkling. “I am.”

“You work a lot. School.” I smile, trying to ease the wariness I see in her gaze. “I’m trying to say I want to see you again but I’m kind of fucking it up, aren’t I?”

A soft huff of laughter escapes her and she nods. “Yeah, you sort of are.”

“We still on for Wednesday?” I’m referring to our next tutoring appointment.

“Yes. Of course.”

“Do you work after?”

“I do. My usual eight-to-two shift.” She shifts on my lap. I can feel the heat between her legs brush against my erection and I want to lift up and press against her, right there. Let her know exactly what she does to me.

But if I do that once, I’ll end up doing it again. And again. And then I’ll be kissing her, my hands reaching beneath her sweater, her hands beneath my shirt, and then we’re done for.

“You need to quit that job. The hours suck.” I slide my hand that still grips her waist a little higher, touching her ribs, just below her bra. I must have the control of a saint tonight because normally, I’d be tearing into that within seconds.

“I can’t. I need the money.”

“Why?” I want information. I want to know why she works so hard yet sometimes acts like a haughty little rich girl. Is she broke? Cut off from mommy and daddy for doing something awful? I can’t imagine her doing anything to make her parents cut her off. That’s a pretty damn drastic move. She’s a fucking genius; she wouldn’t be that stupid.

“I just … it’s only my mom and me, and I need to work both jobs to afford living here,” she admits, dropping her gaze. “I got a scholarship for school but my apartment, utilities—all that stuff is expensive.”

Finally she’s sharing something personal about her family. I savor it as though she handed over her entire life story. “What happened to your dad?”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” she mumbles, her gaze still locked on my chest.

Frustration fills me and I shove it aside. I can’t push. I got pissed at her when she asked about
my
dad, so I need to respect her wishes. Clearly she doesn’t want to talk about hers.

But that only makes me want to know even more what happened between them.

“We should go, then,” I say reluctantly, letting her slide off my lap. She falls to the side of me, landing on the seat with a soft plop. Reaching out, I grab the handle and open the door, climbing out of the car with Chelsea right behind me. But before I can open the driver’s-side door, she’s grabbing me, pulling me to her so she can kiss me.

I drown in her, grab hold of her so I can press her against the car, holding her in my arms as we kiss, our tongues busy, our hands roaming. Just like that, I feel out of control again. I fucking need to get it together, and quick.

It’s her turn to break the kiss first and she gazes up at me, her eyes wide and fathomless as they drink me in. “I … want you to know that it means a lot to me, you taking me out tonight. Bringing me up here.” She pushes up on tiptoe and presses her face against my neck, kissing me there. “Thank you,” she breathes against my skin, making me shiver.

I tighten my arm around her waist and hold her close, burying my face in her hair so I can breathe in her scent, absorb her heat. “So Chels?”

“Yes?” Her voice is muffled against my neck and another shiver moves through me.

“Was tonight enough of an adventure for you?”

She laughs and pulls away from me so our gazes meet. “Most definitely.”

“Good.” I drop a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Because it’s only just begun.”

“Autumn and I want to come see you.”

Fable’s words surprise me and I sit up straight, run my hand over my head as I glance around my bedroom, squinting into the darkness since the blinds are closed tight and my door is shut. It’s Sunday, and I always sleep in since if I’m not working Saturday night, I’m usually at a game. Or I’ll play in the afternoon and sometimes if my schedule’s real intense, I’ll end up working that night, too.

Exactly what I did last night—and those are the worst days. I’m fucking beat.

“Autumn wants to come visit me, huh?” Yawning, I stretch my neck, my entire body sore. I almost felt out of shape out there on the field. Taking a few weeks off from practice threw me.

“Absolutely. She misses her Uncle Owen terribly. I miss you, too,” Fable adds.

“So when do you two want to come?” I ask, scrubbing a hand along my jaw, the rasp of my beard poking at my palm. I need to shave, and soon. Chelsea would probably complain if I kissed her with a face like this.

Thinking of kissing Chelsea makes my skin tingle and I fight it. I’m talking to my sister, for the love of God.

“Well, you’re playing a big game this next weekend, right? Archrival team, getting closer to playoff season and all that homecoming crap?” I love her sarcastic enthusiasm for college life. She always felt like an outsider looking in.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty big game next weekend. Starts in the late afternoon, though I don’t remember the exact time,” I say. “I’d love to have you here. It would be just you and Autumn, right?”

“Yeah. Drew will be out of state next weekend. Green Bay.”

Freaking cold and a hell of a team. I don’t envy him that. “You … don’t want to stay at my house, do you?” I’d probably have to fumigate if that were the case.

“Hell no. Are you kidding? That place scares me. I’ll get a hotel room,” she says with a soft laugh.

“Okay, cool. Yeah, if you want to come for the weekend, I’d love it.”

“Awesome. I’ll talk more with Drew about it and figure out the schedule.” She breathes a relieved little sigh. “It’s so nice talking to you on the phone with no baby in my arms. She’s always wiggling around, crying or reaching for things.”

“Where is Autumn, anyway?”

“Taking a nap. I have a sitter coming later. I’m going to Drew’s game tonight.”

“Wish I could go,” I say, like always missing my sister. And Drew. Even the baby, because I bet she’s changed a ton since the last time I got to hold her. Thank God Fable always sends me pictures. Probably too many, considering all the ones I have on my phone and the baby isn’t even six months old yet, but I enjoy every single one she sends my way.

“You should! What do you have going on tonight? Are you working?”

“I’m not, actually.” The drive to San Francisco would be almost four hours. Considering it’s barely nine o’clock—damn, my sister’s mean, calling so early on a Sunday—I could be there in plenty of time.

But do I want to make the drive? This is my one day off. The rest of the week is packed. What with school, practice, work, and Chelsea, I can hardly keep my schedule straight.

I think of Chelsea again and smile. It’s been a week since the night I took her up the Skyway and kissed her on the roof of my car. We’ve seen each other a couple of times since, though never long enough for my liking. And we sort of ruined last Wednesday’s tutoring lesson. More like it turned into me teaching Chelsea the art of slow, hour-long kisses.

She’d been so worried about getting caught, which only made it that much more intense, that much more exciting. I sat on a table, my legs spread, Chelsea standing in between them, her hands in my hair, our mouths fused. Kissing, whispering, her trying to pull out of my arms only for me to drag her back in.

Fuck
, it had been hot. Knowing I couldn’t do anything with her beyond kissing. As if I’d get her naked on campus. I want her, but I’m not that stupid.

Besides, I really am still working on my portfolio and need to keep up with my English assignments. Though truthfully, I hardly need Chelsea for any of that anymore. Not that we’ve cancelled our arrangement yet.

Hell, I’m starting to believe it’s the only time I can get to see her.

“I could get you skybox tickets. I usually like to sit on the field, but the skybox is so much fun and the weather is crappy today, so we should definitely sit in the box,” she says, sounding excited. “Though I totally understand if you can’t make it, Owen. You’re busy—you need some time to relax rather than drive all the way here only to turn around and go back.”

An idea forms in my brain, one that would make going to San Francisco to see my family even more worth it. “I want to go. I’d love to see Drew play.” I pause, trying my best to sound nonchalant. “So hey. Can you get me two tickets?”

“Absolutely. Who do you want to bring with you? Wade?” I’d brought him to a couple of games in the past, so her assumption made sense.

“No … I want to bring, uh … Chelsea.” I wince, waiting for the barrage of questions and teasing.

“Owen. Really? You want to bring a girl?” Fable sounds shocked. “The girl who’s your tutor?”

“Well, yeah. I do on occasion hang out with girls, you know.” I’m irritated and I don’t really have a reason to be.

“Right, I do know. But I figured that was all you were doing. Hanging out with them and that’s it. You sound sort of serious about this Chelsea girl.”