Forgot To Tell You Something: An Angsty, Later in Life Romance

I breathe out a sated sigh when Owen releases me from the kiss. I say release, because there is a power and dominance now. A claim—over me, my body, and if I’m not careful, my heart.

But as I read his features, I can’t help but sense that he’s not entirely forthcoming. I know some people find my rules odd, but no one has ever called me on them the way Owen did.

Then there is his intimate knowledge of cardiac surgery. I realize you can learn it from a textbook—hell, felons earn their law degrees behind bars—but something is off. But, I asked him, and he said, in no uncertain terms, that he was not a doctor. I’m taking him at his word.

“I don’t want to know how many women you kissed to have a mouth that talented,” I purr, running my thumb along his lower lip.

“I had to be perfect for you.” Owen clears his throat, that low, gravelly chuckle rising up from his chest. He steps in between my legs, hiking my skirt up to very unladylike heights. Not that I’m complaining. “Enough about the type of men you won’t date. Tell me about the men you will.”

I tap my finger against my chin as I bite back a smile. “Let’s see. Well, he has to be smart.”

“Two plus two is four.”

I giggle, gliding my hands along the planes of his chest. “Genius level, sir. He also has to be kind.”

“I helped an old lady just last night.”

I guffaw, my eyes widening. “You’d better not be referring to when you picked my ass up off the ground, buddy.”

He’s got the most endearing smile. Some smiles are too perfect—the teeth sculpted and whitened to a neon glow—but his are straight and white without dipping into social media influencer territory. The dimples sure aren’t hurting his cause, either, or the way he catches his lower lip with his teeth. “Definitely not referring to you, although having you in my arms was the highlight of the evening.”

I’m tempted to look away from his intense stare, but opt to meet it head-on. My fingers slide down his torso, hooking in his jeans, and I feel his breath hitch. “Most importantly, he needs to know how to touch me.”

Oblivious to the crowd, Owen cups my ass, bringing me against him. His mouth drips kisses along my jaw as his fingers run the length of my spine. “I could spend years touching you and never get bored. Just say the word, and I’ll take you back to my hotel where I’ll spend the rest of the night exploring every inch of this delicious body.”

“Interesting proposition.”

“I told you earlier, Tally. It’s a promise I’m dying to keep.” His hands frame my face and everything—all preconceived notions, past events, and broken hearts—fly out the window. “Tell me what you want, Tally.”

I curl my fingers into his belt loops, pulling him flush against me. I feel his erection straining, and it takes everything in my power to not slide my hand along him. “Kiss me like you can’t hold back a second longer.”

“I can’t.” He winds one hand into my hair, forcing my head back, as he nuzzles my neck, dropping kisses along my collarbone. His free hand fingers the zipper of my dress, tantalizing me with promises of all the places he’ll kiss if I only say the word.

He tongues a path up my neck, nipping at my earlobe, his breath hot against my skin. All the while, I feel his fingers lowering my zipper, pushing my limits, seeing how far I’ll let him travel in such a public space.

“Owen,” I murmur, my nails scratching along his arms as every nerve cell fires at once. He tightens his grip in my hair before capturing my lips. His tongue traces along the roof of my mouth at an achingly slow pace. Teasing me. Priming me. When I slide my tongue against his, eager to take part, he pulls my hair.

He wants complete control, and I want to give it to him. He delivers his delicious brand of torture until I’m heady with lust.

A drunken bar patron jostles us, jolting us from our moment. I run my tongue along my upper lip, holding Owen’s stormy gaze. “What am I going to do with you, Owen?” I manage to whisper.

He slides his hand under my dress, his thumb circling my clit, and I whimper in surprise. I’m never this forward, but with Owen, I don’t want him to stop.

Screw public indecency. Owen is so worth the ticket.

His mouth settles against my lips, while his fingers slide inside me, and I writhe against his hand, desperate for more. “Everything, Tally.”

“That was amazing,” I exclaim, skipping out of Wicked Chucks into the balmy evening.

Hey, I’m not lying. Hedgecore was incredible. Granted, I missed half of the show, but I blame Owen and his incredible mouth. A mouth that stayed in all PG locations. Mostly.

We behaved for the second half of the show, focusing on dancing instead of heavy petting. Well, Owen danced, and I attempted to keep up. I’m beginning to think the man is perfect, or at least perfect for me.

It’s uncanny how much we have in common. Besides music, we share the same taste in movies, superheroes, hell, our sarcasm runs in the same vein. He even claims to skate, although he hasn’t been on a board in years. I might have to put that theory to the test.

So, even if there wasn’t this insane, undeniable attraction between us, we would undoubtedly be best friends.

Owen slides his arm around my waist, pulling me against his side as we stroll to the car. “It was a hell of a concert.”

“Made better because you know the lead singer,” I mention with a wink, smiling as Owen opens my car door. A gentleman. That’s a rare treat.

“I’ve known him for years. How do you think I managed an extra ticket last minute?”

“You are friends with one of my all-time favorite bands. I don’t know whether to be more jealous of that or this car.”

“Don’t be jealous of the car. It’s a rental.”

I pivot in my seat, facing him. “You really are living out of a suitcase, aren’t you?”

“For the time being. I didn’t have a car in San Francisco. I didn’t need one.”

“Definitely a necessity in Fort Lauderdale.”

“Exactly. So, I rented this beauty to see if I like her before I buy.”

I run my hand along the dash of the Audi A8. Owen is right; she’s a gorgeous car. An expensive, gorgeous car. “This is a pricey vehicle.”

“About $85,000 new.”

My jaw drops at his blasé mention of the price. “My entire life isn’t worth $85,000. So, you can afford a wickedly expensive car, and you left your life in San Francisco. You’re a bank robber on the lam, aren’t you?”

Owen chuckles, pulling away from the curb. “I told that last night. I’m a thief, but you caught me. Now the question is, what are you going to do with me?”

Oh, my gorgeous man, the possibilities are endless.

My apartment—and old as crap vehicle—are only a few miles from Wicked Chucks, so the ride is over far too soon.

“Stay right there,” Owen orders, popping out of the car to open my door.

We stroll up the walkway, and my brain flips into overdrive. I’m wearing my sexy lingerie, and God knows I want this man’s hands all over my body. But, despite our necking session at Wicked Chucks, I don’t want Owen thinking I’m the type of woman to jump into bed with a stranger.

Even if that stranger is the most handsome and charming man I’ve ever met.

Owen stops on the doorstep, pulling me against him. But this time, the kiss is less demanding. It’s as if he’s savoring every second of me for the future. His tongue melds with mine as his hands frame my face, holding me in the moment.

His mouth teases me with restrained passion while demolishing my last vestiges of self-restraint.

I never stood a chance.

“Do you want to come in?” I breathe, breaking from the kiss.

His fingers caress my jaw, those eyes catching the moonlit glow. “You have no idea how much.”

“I’m pretty positive if you come in that we’ll wind up sleeping together.”

“Is that so bad?”

“I’m fairly certain it will be spectacular.”

“Agreed.”

My hormones are going to kill me later.

“But,” I sigh, grasping his forearms, “I don’t believe in one-night stands. At least not for me. I’m not judging you or anyone who does—”

“Shh,” Owen whispers, lifting my hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the palm. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I feel like I should, and I really want you to come inside.”

“I will, when you’re ready.” He kisses my forehead, smiling against my skin. “How about this? Goodnight, Darlin. I would love to see you tomorrow, or whenever you’re available.”

Okay, that was not how I expected him to respond. Totally unlike all the men I ever dated, and sexy as all get out. “Wow. Don’t men usually play it cool? The whole ‘call you in seventy-two hours’ line?”

Owen chuckles before nodding. “Most of the time. But you’re not a ‘most of the time’ type woman.”

“What am I?”

That delectable mouth captures mine, nipping at my lower lip. “Hold on for dear life and never let go type woman. I’ll call you in the morning.”

The man just paid me the greatest compliment of my life. The best part? I think he means every word. “Thank you for tonight. It was…there are no words to describe our evening.”

“Yes, there is. Perfect.”

With a last kiss, I step into my apartment and watch as Owen heads toward his car.

I’m inside all of five seconds when I fling open the door and sprint after him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

Owen chuckles, surprised by my sneak attack. “Hey, beautiful. Everything okay?”

“Not yet, but it will be.”

“What riddles are you spinning, little Sphinx?”

I prop my chin on his chest and offer him a smile. “I’m holding on for dear life.”

A look of understanding crosses over his features as he bites back a grin. Then the grin slides away, replaced by a hungry gaze as he lifts me into his arms. “Do I get to keep my promise now?”

“You damn well better,” I reply.