Life Support (The Breathe Series Book 2) (4 page)

“Owen…” I breathe, breaking him out of his trance.

“Shit, baby. You’re so hot,” he grunts and leans forward, kissing and licking my back and my shoulders.

He lets one hand slip over my waist, and I know it will be on my clit soon enough. I continue to rock against him, and when his finger finds its goal, I mewl loudly.

He clasps his other hand over my mouth. “Shhh, baby.”

I push myself up with my hands so my back is to his front, effectively changing the angle of his penetration and causing us both to groan loudly. I reach behind me and wrap my arm around the back of his neck as he bends down to kiss my shoulder.

“My God, Owen. You’re so deep. Slow down. I want to feel it—all of it.”

He immediately slows his thrusts, every sweet inch of him sliding in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. It drives me crazy as he drags over the sensitive nerves inside me, the head of his enormous cock brushing my G-spot with each thrust. My breathing increases. I’m oh so close.

“Like that, baby?” he growls hotly into my ear. “You want to feel all of me, don’t you? You want to feel me fucking you like this.”

“Ye-yess,” I whimper, squeezing me eyes closed tight as I concentrate on how he’s making me feel.

He brings his hand down my stomach and his fingers start to draw circles on my clit.

“Owen...I need more…” I place my hand over his, guiding him and setting the pace for what I know I need to get off. I’ve gotten bolder with time, more comfortable with time, verbalizing what I want and what feels good.

As we both focus on getting me to come, he starts to pick up his pace. I can tell he’s getting closer and closer as I squeeze him from inside and he pulses within me. Suddenly, I’m on the cusp of what I know will be a strong orgasm. I start to groan and shake.

“Owen... Oh Owen... Oh baby…”

I start to sink into his arms, but he holds me up the best he can as he continues to thrust into me from behind, his knees bent to pump up as deep as he can. He covers my mouth with one hand and grabs my hip with the other, thrusting up quicker and harder until he falls forward with his own release. My arms brace my fall and he leans his head on my back, kissing me between my shoulder blades.

“Fuck, baby! That was so hot. I love you so much. You know that?” he says, panting.

I can barely catch my breath. My God, that was unexpected—and...amazing.

“Baby, that was….wow.” He slowly pulls out of me and falls onto his back next to me.

I lie on top of his chest, smiling down at him.

“What?” he asks, smiling back.

I run a finger over his chest and he shivers. “That was nice. Did a lot for my nerves,” I say seriously. It really did do a great job of completely calming any remaining reservations I had about today.

He runs his hands up and down my back and reaches up to lightly kiss me on the lips. “Well, you helped me out with a little nookie when we visited your parents, so I thought I should return the favor. You know, christen both our parents’ houses with our ridiculous, sex-crazed ways.”

We both start to laugh, but eventually, his face turns serious.

“You have nothing to be nervous about. My mother loves you. Emily and Vince love you. I love you.”

I kiss him on the chest and start to sit up, leaning back on my heels. “I sure hope so.” I look out the large cutout in the wall that creates a window. “We should be going, no? Lunch is going to be ready and we probably don’t want anyone to come around looking for us.”

As I’m saying that, we hear, “Owen! Olivia! Lunch is ready! Where are you two?” It’s Emily, and she’s heading toward the treehouse.

Shit!

I scramble to my feet to clasp my bralette back on, slip my dress on over my head, and shimmy back into my panties. I’m sure the panicked look on my face is priceless.

“We’re on our way, Em!” Owen yells from the floor of the treehouse. He is still calmly laying on his back, naked as the day he was born.

“Okay,” Emily calls back. “Olivia? Do you want white or red wine?”

“White please!” I call out.

Owen is grinning up at me, his eyes sparkling.

“What?” I ask smiling back.

“Nothing. You’re just...perfect.”

“Okay. I’ll see you both in a bit then,” Emily says, unknowingly breaking a moment, her voice fading as she goes back from where she came.

“Thank you, baby. That’s very nice of you to say.” I smile at him, our eyes locked.

After a beat, our eyes break from each other and I resume getting dressed.

I put on my sandals as he gets up from the floor, grabs his shirt, and shakes it out before slipping it back on. His boxers and jeans are next, and I am a little sad that he is hiding his beautiful body. As he buckles his belt, I reach out to help him button his shirt.

“That was fun. Naughty, but fun. And in your childhood treehouse. Horny boy.”

“You’ve helped make the perfect memory for this treehouse,” he says, bending down to give me a quick kiss.

Owen starts down the tree first and waits for me at the bottom, watching, I think, to make sure I don’t fall. I take my steps cautiously as it is, after all, a tree house built for much smaller people. When I get to the ground, I brush my dress off, trying to smooth the wrinkles out. He takes my hand and we start to walk back up the lawn toward the house for lunch.

“Know what?” he asks me.

“What?”

He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him, and leans down to whisper in my ear. “I love that you’re filled with my come right now. It makes me hard just thinking about it.”

“Owen! You’re horrible! Good—oh, for God’s sake...” I cry, slapping at his chest.

He feigns being wounded. “I am, but you still love me.”

“I do.”

When we walk into the house, everyone is settling into their seats around the table.

Owen takes a deep breath in as he closes the door behind us. “Everything smells amazing, Mom!” He pulls a chair out for me, and after tucking me in to the table, he takes his seat beside me.

“Thank you!” his mother says, smiling as she returns to the table with more food. “It’s just a roast and some—Owen?” Her smile fades as she tilts her head to the side. Her brows furrow. “You have something in your hair, son. Is that...a...a leaf?”

His eyes flash wide and he quickly runs a hand over the top of his head. I turn away as he pulls a large dried leaf that I somehow didn’t notice was there from the back of his head. I can’t look at him.

“Guess so,” he replies confidently, like it’s nothing at all.

My cheeks blush bright red as I work hard not to laugh. Emily lifts her eyebrow. Vince smirks at Owen and looks like he wants to give him a high five, and his mom just dismisses the leaf altogether. I take my napkin and quickly place it over my lap as if it will somehow protect me from people knowing we just had sex.

Well, this is a bit awkward.

Owen puts his hand on my knee as Mimi places a basket of warm, homemade rolls on the table. When I start to giggle, he looks down at me, a playful grin on his lips.

“You okay baby?”

I regain my composure, “Yes, I’m fine. Mimi, this looks delicious. Thank you so much for having me for lunch today,” I say to his mother, trying to get my mind off of Owen’s hand squeezing and rubbing my knee.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine, love,” she replies with a grin. She sits at the head of the table as everyone passes the food around. “So, tell us something about yourself, Olivia. Owen has filled us in a bit, but I’m sure you’ll have something a little more
detailed
to tell?” She smiles sweetly at her son.

“Oh, well...there isn’t much to say, I guess. I’m a psychologist. I do research at NYU on the effects of trauma stress on men in service. So policemen, firemen…” I nod toward Owen. “That kind of thing. I actually was presenting my research at a conference when I met Owen.”

His mother raises an eyebrow and Emily is suddenly looking pointedly at Owen.

“Owen, you never mentioned that was what she was working on,” Emily states flatly.

“I… It just never came up.” Owen looks uncomfortable.

Why does this make him uncomfortable?

“Anyway, I’m in the middle of wading through grant applications, trying to figure out what I’ll focus on next. It’s a tedious process, but it’s kind of fun to pick what I’m going to delve into next.” I take a helping of fresh green beans and pass the bowl over to Owen.

His sister is still staring at him with a look that leads me to believe she has something she wants to say. His hand goes slack on my knee.

Owen’s mom seems to pick up on the vibe and changes tack. “Well, Olivia, it’s lovely that you’re looking into such a needed area. I’m sure whatever you pick next will be equally as important.”

The rest of the meal goes the same. Questions about my family, where I live, where I grew up, what sports I like (which is the briefest of topics). Before we know it, nearly two hours have passed and we’ve long since finished our lunch. Mimi stands to bring the table coffee, and I offer to help her clear the table.

“I can help her. Sit here,” Owen says.

I put my hand on his as I stand from the table, carrying our plates to the kitchen. “No, you stay and catch up with your sister. I’m going to help her with the dishes. I don’t mind. Really.”

Owen looks uncomfortable with this, but I give him a peck on the top of his head and follow Mimi into the kitchen, ready to tackle the dishes.

Owen stays at the table with his sister, and right away, they start a quiet conversation clearly meant to be heard by them and them alone. Emily had a few moments where she looked at him pointedly during lunch, so I can’t help but feel like there’s something I don’t know there.

“So, Olivia, do you like living in the city?” Mimi asks as she starts to empty plates into the garbage.

“Oh, I love Manhattan. It’s going to be a change living in Brooklyn—the commute for one—but I really love Owen’s neighborhood too.” I smile, thinking of good memories of us walking the streets of his neighborhood and genuinely looking forward to that becoming my home.

Mimi looks over at me with a big grin on her face. “Oh, you’re moving to Brooklyn! Well how nice! You’ll be able to spend more time together then, won’t you?”

I freeze. She doesn't know that I’m moving in with him. Why doesn’t she know that? I look over at Owen, who is still embroiled in what seems to be a slightly more heated conversation with his sister. I glance back at her and then quickly avert my gaze to my hands, feeling self-conscious.

“Actually, I’m moving in with Owen when we get back from the wedding.” My response is quiet and I haven’t met her gaze again.

“What?” she shrieks. Owen turns around abruptly in his chair and Emily lifts her head, looking concerned at her mother. “You’re moving in with him?”

Owen puts his head down, shaking it side to side.

“She’s moving in with you, Owen? Why didn’t you tell us that?” Emily questions. She’s glaring at him.

I could not possibly feel more awkward.
What the fuck? He didn’t tell them?
We decided this a while ago now. Owen lifts his head and looks apologetically at me. I turn away.

“Just, both of you, calm the fuck down,” he says loudly.

“Owen! Language!” his mother chastises.

He huffs. “I’m sorry, Mom, but you’re kind of freaking out, which in turn, appears to be freaking Olivia out.”

My head jerks up. At least he looks remorseful that he is throwing me under the bus. “I’m not freaking out, Owen. Surprised no one knows I’m moving in with you, but no, not freaking out.” I’m seething.

Owen rolls his eyes. “Mom, Emily, I haven’t told you yet because I had
planned
on announcing it today. Like a surprise. I thought you would like that, being that, as you have both made
very
clear, this is somewhat out of the norm for me.” He looks me directly in the eyes. “So, Olivia, empty your pretty little head of all the thoughts I
know
are running through it. I was not avoiding telling them, I was trying to make it special.”

Owen stands and comes over to me, pulling me to him and planting a kiss on my temple. He pulls back and looks down at me. “I love you. I was excited to tell them in person. You...distracted me in the treehouse.” He looks at me like the cat that ate the canary.

I grin and shake my head at him. “You’re a pain in my ass. You know that?” I whisper so his mother doesn’t hear me.

“I know. And what a fine ass it is,” he retorts, laughing.

Mimi interrupts our moment. “Well, I’ll be! That’s the best news I’ve heard in ages! Oh, I’m just so happy for you both!” She comes over to us and wraps her arms around Owen and I, squeezing the life out of us.

Emily and Vince get in on the action and hug us too, congratulating us on the good news. Owen and Emily exchange knowing glances, which I catch but try not to think too hard about.

Owen and I finish cleaning up the kitchen while the coffee maker finishes brewing its last drop. Meanwhile, Mimi pulls out an old china plate decorated with painted yellow roses and green ivy and fills it with homemade almond croissants and freshly baked cookies.

She explains that the plate once belonged to her grandmother and has been in the family for decades. “I only bring it out on special occasions, and this, Olivia, is most definitely a special occasion.” She smiles at me and then Owen.

My cheeks flush at the sentiment as I gather coffee mugs from the cupboard and bring them to the table followed by Owen with the carafe of hot coffee and Mimi with the treats. Although I’m stuffed from such an extravagant lunch, I cannot help but sample the goodies. It would be rude of me not to, right?

We all sit around the kitchen table and talk about the when and hows of my impending move-in with Owen. We talk more about my career, which Owen’s family has taken a high interest in, and Mimi asks more about my family. Their genuine interest in me doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable at all—in fact, it’s quite the opposite. I feel at home and a part of the Maxwell family, and I hope that, one day, I will be.

After a rousing game of Phase 10—where Owen loses badly, he announces that we should be leaving. Mimi encourages us to stay for dinner, but he declines, explaining that we still have a drive ahead of us. He gives his mother a big bear hug and she squeals.