“You’ll find him. It’ll just take a little time.”
I sighed again. “I know, and I’m sorry that I’m such lousy company. I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“What shoe?”
“Deirdre. It’s been more than a week now since she told Finn who she really is, and nothing’s happened yet.”
Owen turned on his side to face me and propped his elbow up on a pillow. “Well, maybe that’s because there is a possibility you haven’t considered.”
“And what would that be?”
He shrugged. “Maybe Deirdre is actually telling the truth about wanting to be back in Finn’s life. The two of them have certainly spent enough time together these last several days. She seems like she’s making a genuine effort to get to know him.” His face was blank, and his voice was carefully neutral, but his hand clenched into a fist.
I grinned. “You still want to punch Finn in the face for calling you a hypocrite, don’t you?”
A guilty flush crept up the side of his neck. “Yeah. A little.”
I arched my eyebrows at him.
Owen’s flush grew a little brighter. “Okay, so I still want to punch him in the face a whole lot. Is that wrong of me?”
“Nah. I’ve wanted to punch Finn in the face plenty of times. He can be quite aggravating when he wants to be. But his true superpower is being aggravating when he’s not even trying.”
Owen laughed, but then his face creased into a deep wince. “What really bothers me is that he was right. I was a hypocrite, telling him to trust you now when I didn’t do that with Salina. I’m sorry, Gin.”
I threaded my fingers through his. “You don’t have to keep apologizing for that.”
His features softened. “I know, but I wanted you to hear it again anyway.”
“Well, apology accepted, again.” I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his nose. “Let’s finish watching the movie. The big fight scene is coming up, and you know how much I love those.”
We both turned toward the TV again. I tried to watch the movie, really I did, but I kept glancing at my phone. All that info on Santos was right there. Maybe if I read through it just one more time, I could find a clue that Silvio had missed—
A pillow loomed up and plopped against my face before falling into my lap.
I looked at the pillow, then over at Owen, who was watching the TV and cheerily whistling along with the theme music.
“Did you just throw a pillow at me?”
“Oh, no,” he said, still staring at the TV. “I’m just sitting here, all innocent-like, watching the movie.”
My eyes narrowed. “Oh, Grayson. It is so on.”
We stared at each other, then sprang off the bed at the same time. In an instant, we were grabbing pillows and hurling them across the bed at each other, both of us shrieking, ducking, and laughing the whole time. I quickly ran out of pillows, so I hopped up onto the bed and charged over to Owen’s side, hoping to take him by surprise. He caught me around the waist, spun me around, and lowered me back down onto the bed.
Owen loomed over me, his laughter fading, even as his violet eyes sparked and flashed with an intense heat. “Pillow fights are fun,” he said. “But you know what’s even better?”
“What?”
He gave me a wicked grin, then leaned down and kissed the side of my neck. “This.” He kissed the other side of my neck. “And this.” He grinned again. “And especially this.”
He lowered his lips to mine.
I opened my mouth, my tongue darting out to meet his. We kissed hard and deep, our tongues crashing together again and again the way the pillows had moments ago. Heat roared through my body, sweeping away everything else but this moment. All I thought about was how warm and strong Owen’s body was pressed against my own, how his rich, metallic scent invaded my lungs, how he still tasted of the chocolate cheesecake we’d had for dessert.
We kissed and kissed, our hands eagerly roaming over each other like a couple of teenagers getting hot ’n’ heavy. Owen drew back, his violet eyes even brighter than before. He grinned at me again and lowered his mouth to mine . . .
Just in time for me to bop him in the head with a pillow I’d sneakily grabbed while he’d been distracted.
Owen blinked in surprise.
I grinned. “I’d say that makes us even now, wouldn’t you?”
He growled, threw himself onto the bed, and plastered his body on top of mine, kissing and kissing me until my laughter faded into soft moans of pleasure. We rolled back and forth on the bed, stroking, caressing, and yanking off each other’s clothes until we were both naked. I shivered as Owen trailed his tongue down my chest, then started teasing my nipples with his teeth. He groaned as I took him in my hand, skimming my fingers over his thick, hard length. Soon we were moving together harder and faster, each kiss, touch, and caress bringing exquisite pleasure.
All too soon, we were ready to come together, and Owen reached out for the drawer on the nightstand where he kept a box of condoms. I took my little white pills, but we always used extra protection. He reached . . . and reached . . .