She stared at his mouth and her eyes went soft. “If that wasn’t a proper seduction, I’m afraid to see what is.” She sought his lips out for a kiss. Such a small thing, yet combined with the softness of her br**sts against his chest, it threatened to send him over the edge. He crossed the floor and laid her on the bed. He straightened and sucked in a breath at the picture she made. Her cheeks flushed and she drew her knees up, attempting to shield herself from his view.

“Don’t hide from me now,” he whispered.

She bit into that lush bottom lip and raised her chin. She held his gaze and let her legs fall open. His blood thrummed and the last thread of control tethering him to this side of sane snapped. On a groan, he bent to her, clamping the edge of his teeth over her nipple even as he ran a finger down her creamy slit. She ran her hands over his chest, struggling to reach lower.

“Owen,” she breathed. He rubbed the bud he’d discovered in tight circles. She cried out, undulating against him. Releasing her, he reared back.

“Condom,” he muttered. “In my shaving kit.” He moved to go, but she reached for his thigh, pulling him toward the bed.

“I want to…”

She trailed off, wetting her lips, staring at his erection. “Can I?”

His knees locked, and she rolled to her side. Damn, she was sexy as hell as she shimmied lower on the bed. Coming closer. Intent. He stared straight ahead. At the wall, the wallpaper, anything rather than see her take him in, cover him with those plump lips, surely—

Her wet velvet lips wrapped tightly around him. Dragging him in. Suction so sublime… “Fuck,” he ground out. The fiery cavern of her mouth bathed his hard and aching flesh. Over and over she worked him. Endless torture. “I can’t. You have to stop.”

She hummed low in her throat, opening more. Taking him deeper. Breath sawed in and out of his lungs and his heart slammed against his ribs. He tried to gain some control. The desire to come became a clawing, rabid need and his whole body stiffened with the strain of holding back. He dove his fingers into her hair and held her tight before pulling her away. She released him with a whimper.

“Why did you stop me? You taste so good.” Her eyes stayed locked on his groin and he fought the urge to let her finish. He looked down at her shapely body, a red-hot reminder of why he wanted to wait.

“I want to be inside you and watch your face when we come together.”

…

Was it a dream? She watched him walk away, his muscular back a deep V leading to a trim waist, his glorious ass, tight and firm, thick thighs that she’d tested with her fingers. It had to be a dream. But her whole body buzzed, as if she’d been lit up from the inside by some unseen electrical charge.

That was Owen.

He stepped back into the room, his intense stare sending a gush of wetness between her thighs. She rolled to the center of the bed, making room for him to climb in. Then he was on her. Teeth at her neck, fingers stroking her to mindlessness. Whispered words caressing her ears, professing his need. He parted her thighs, and the anticipation nearly did her in, her muscles quivering for the release only he could supply. He probed her swollen heat with the broad head of his shaft, pressing in, only to retreat too soon. Far too soon.

“Please. Deeper,” she begged, tossing her head on the pillow, clutching at his hips, desperate for him to fill her.

“Don’t test me, Lindy. Your hip,” he said, his voice a pained groan.

“I don’t even feel it. I need you so bad.”

He pulled back to look deep into her eyes and drove his hips relentlessly forward, his thickness stretching her inch by exquisite inch. The intensity of it stole her breath, and she fought to keep her eyes open so she could watch his face. His jaw worked soundlessly as he moved, thrusting long and hard. She met him with an arch of her hips, grinding her pelvis against him.

“Shit. I can’t—”

He stilled, letting out a guttural cry. The chords of his neck went taut, and he exploded. The feel of him jerking and twitching inside her sent her flying, waves of pleasure rocking her from head to toe. His name was a litany torn from her lips over and over.

She lay beneath him, gasping for breath, fighting to keep the fear at bay. It was time to live in the moment, and at this moment she was with the man she loved. It would be fleeting and she wasn’t going to waste a second of it.

She pushed him off her and he rolled onto his back with a muffled groan. “That’s it?” he said with a breathless laugh. “You’re done with me now so shove off, then?”

She climbed on top of him and traced lazy circles on his stomach with her breasts. “Not even close,” she whispered and then dove at his mouth.

Chapter Seventeen

“I got it.”

Lindy’s cheeks burned. She looked up from the magazine she’d been pretending to read to see Owen standing over her, a triumphant smile lighting his handsome face. She’d been so lost in erotic memories of the night before she hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Got what?”

“The fingerprint.”

Of course. She’d been so caught up in her naughty daydream about him, she hadn’t remembered today was the day. He hadn’t had an opportunity to steal the water bottle during his first yoga class, so he’d endured another before deciding to try Liza’s me-time meditation class instead. Less chance of a pulled groin or a torn Achilles, he’d said. She hadn’t minded. The delay had given them three amazing nights together that she wouldn’t have traded for anything.

“That’s good news.”

“I thought so. I already took a ride down to the FedEx office and had it overnighted to Gavin. We should hear late tomorrow, if all goes well.”

She gave him an encouraging smile, but inside, she died a little. They had one more week, but if they were able to get to the bottom of things sooner, it would be less than that. Less time to be with Owen, kissing and touching and living. She cleared her throat. “Awesome. I know you’re anxious to get this over with.”

He sat down in the chair across from her and seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment. He took a quick glance around the empty great room and leaned closer. “Liza made a pass at me.”

She set down the magazine, shocked by the hot fury that flooded her. “Really.”

“It was subtle, but I’m fairly certain. Thing is, when I rebuffed her, she made like I’d misread it somehow. It was odd to say the least. I’m thinking your whole theory on Nico might hold true for Liza as well. It will be interesting to see what Gavin turns up, but I feel like the answer is right there, almost in our reach.”

She tried to compartmentalize. Liza’s actions likely had nothing to do with Owen. She was doing her job, whatever that entailed. Like I should be doing, she reminded herself with a jolt of guilt. She was here to help Owen, and all she’d done for the last few days was baby her bruise and grind all over her boss. Things were coming to a close fast. She needed to start pulling away if she had any hope of coming out of this in one piece.

“I have a session with Sarabeth in five minutes, but we can get into it more when I get back. You going to be around later?”

“If you’re going to be around, I’ll make sure of it.” He stood and reached down to help her to her feet. “I’m sure Sarabeth wouldn’t mind if you were a little late today.” Tipping her back in his arms, he slanted his mouth over hers in a searing kiss. Cupping her neck, he drew lazy patterns on her chin with his thumb, and his tongue slipped between her lips for a taste.

It would be so easy to pretend that his tenderness meant something. That this was more than a sexual fling for him. But it didn’t. And it wasn’t. She pulled away and straightened. “I can’t. I’ve really got to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

He gave her a puzzled look but didn’t try to stop her.

By the time she reached Sarabeth’s office, she had resorted to biting her lip to hold back the tears. When the other woman opened the door with a warm smile, Lindy couldn’t help it. She burst into tears.

Sarabeth pulled her into the office and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Sit. Come on, sit.”

Lindy sat on the couch, and instead of sitting across from her as was her custom, Sarabeth curled in next to her. “Please, Lindy, tell me what’s wrong. I’m here to help.”

The concern in her clear green eyes was so genuine it only made Lindy cry harder. Geez, she hoped Sarabeth wasn’t part of this mess. Lindy really liked the young doctor. Under different circumstances, they would’ve certainly been friends. There was a shit-storm brewing, and she hated to see her in the middle of it. Guilt over her deceit sent her tears into overdrive, and she let out a few pathetic snuffles to go along with them.

She opened her mouth and realized with a start that she was a hair’s breadth from spilling her guts. Not okay. She swiped a hand over her eyes and tried to think of what to say that would relieve some of this emotional turmoil, but not blow their cover.

“I love my husband to pieces, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t love me,” she blurted.

Geez, tell her how you really feel, Lindy.

Sarabeth’s eyes widened and she drew back. “Wait, what? No.” She shook her head emphatically. “No way. I see the way he looks at you. Like he’s calling on every bit of self-control not to ravish you. Frankly, it makes me a little envious,” she said with a laugh. “That look we talked about in our first session? That’s how he is around you.”

Lindy’s heart stuttered a bit before she got a hold of herself. “You’re misreading him. The physical side of things is good, I won’t lie. But the emotional stuff? Not there.”

“Is this because he cheated?”

Lindy winced. She’d forgotten that was their ruse. “No. I’ve moved past that. This is about here and now. I don’t think he ever loved me. I don’t think he will ever allow himself to love anyone.” She buried her face in her palms. “He doesn’t even wear his wedding ring,” she muttered. It hadn’t been her intention to go there, but now that it was out, she realized how much that bothered her. Owen’s bare finger was a glaring reminder that she had zero chance of a happily ever after with him. A symbol of his absolute conviction that love equaled pain, and she had no clue how to change his mind.

Sarabeth blew out a sigh. “I shouldn’t tell you this. It’s my job to listen, not talk. But the other night when we played that blindfold game? You should’ve seen his face when you touched him. It was like magic. If the two of you weren’t so caught up, you would have realized. The whole room got quiet, and all the other men were eyeing Owen like he was the luckiest guy in the world. Now I don’t know about a ring, or what his reasons behind that are, but I know one thing. That man loves you.”

Lindy rubbed absently at her temple, desperately trying to ward off the headache building there. What if she was right? What if Owen did love her but wasn’t ready to face it yet? She tried not to let the hope build, but it was a force to be reckoned with, blossoming in her chest before she could squash it.

“I’ve got an idea.” Sarabeth had reverted to her professional voice, and that somehow gave Lindy comfort. Surely a doctor would be able to come up with a good solution.

Sarabeth stood and went to her desk. After a moment of shuffling around, she returned holding a deck of cards. “Bring these back to your room tonight and see if he’ll play with you.”

Lindy took them and read the back. Couple’s Truth or Dare.

“I give them to couples when they need a push to communicate. The men like it because some of the dares are really naughty,” she said with a half-smile. “But there are also a lot of soul-baring questions in the truth pile. I’ve had many people tell me that it prompted some real heart to heart talks. Maybe Owen just needs an opening to tell you how he’s feeling.”