Page 21 of Fragile Hearts (Hibiscus Hearts #3)

I grab a few pictures in the full-length mirror in the bedroom, sending them to the girls and their responses have me laughing. All of them can’t stop commenting on how awesome a job Owen did picking out my dress and shoes, and I couldn’t agree more.

“Hold on,” I say, looking up at Owen. “Do we have time for—” Before I can finish, Owen cuts me off, his hand around my wrist, his grip tight, and I giggle.

“Time for a quickie?” he says, and I shake my head, laughing now. “What? That’s not what you were going to say?”

“No, my insatiable boy, that’s not what I was going to say.” Owen sighs loudly, rolling his eyes, and it only makes me laugh harder. “I was going to ask if we have time for a couple of quick pictures. I want to send a few more to the girls.”

Owen growls, his hands running over my body, touching every inch of bare skin. “You in this fucking dress. You’re killing me.”

“Later, I promise,” I murmur to him, kissing his neck. Taking his hand, I lead him back into the bedroom, stopping in front of the mirror. “Smile.”

I hold up my phone, getting a few pictures of us, and I quickly text them to the girls. Not that I don’t expect it, but it only takes seconds before my phone is blowing up with replies.

Daisy: Omg, Ken and Barbie!

Sage: You two are seriously the cutest.

Alana: Remember when you tried to tell yourself you hated him?

Alana: He’s perfect and so are you.

It’s Alana’s text that gets me. I did try.

I tried so damn hard, but in the back of my mind, I knew I didn’t hate him.

I just didn’t think I deserved a guy like Owen.

One who would treat me well and who would be able to look past the life I had before meeting him.

He felt out of my league, and to be honest, sometimes he still does.

“You ready?” Owen asks me, and as nervous as I am to attend this dinner, I want to be there with him. I want to support him and all his family has accomplished. It’s a huge deal, this hotel and this dinner, and all the time and effort they’ve put in.

“I am, but seriously, Owen, thank you. You didn’t have to do this. The dress, the shoes, the suite, all of it,” I say, cradling his cheek as I push up to kiss him. Even in these heels, he’s still taller than me, and he leans down to meet my lips.

I give him a few gentle kisses, my eyes falling closed as I let out a soft sigh. Nothing could be more perfect than being here with him. He’s made dreams come true; dreams I didn’t even know I had. I never once thought I’d be staying in a hotel like this, with a guy like this.

“Let’s go before I lose the courage and hide out in our massive suite. It would be like a game of hide and seek, you trying to find me,” I tease, and he takes my hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of my palm.

“It wouldn’t take me long to find you,” he responds, heading out of the room and down the hall.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can feel your heartbeat from across the room,” he tells me, and I stop him, looking up into his green eyes.

“Owen,” I say, his words making my stomach flutter, and I don’t even know what to say to that. I do feel connected to him like no one else. And as ridiculous as it sounds, I know what he means.

I can feel him too. Even if he’s not standing next to me. His scent is constantly surrounding me, the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart thumping in time with mine. All of it.

“Tell me you feel it too,” he whispers, his fingers slipping under the thin straps of my dress. My eyes close at his touch, leaning into him, I bask in the feeling.

“Yes,” I murmur, my hands resting on his chest. “I feel all of it.”

Taking me in his arms, he holds me, our unspoken I love you floating between us.

We’ve been dancing around it, saying everything but it, and as much as I want to, I’m scared.

It’s early, so early, and I’m not one to jump into things, afraid of what the future might bring, afraid of losing him the way I’ve lost everyone else in my life.

“How many people will be here tonight?” I ask, needing the subject change, but also fearful of what he might say. My nervousness over the night returns full force at just my simple question.

“I don’t know,” Owen says, leading me down the hall now and through the open-air lobby. “Like a few hundred,” he adds, and I freeze, stopping him in his tracks too.

“Owen, a few hundred?”

“Yeah. I told you it’ll be the media and influencers and people who just want to be around my parents. Don’t worry. No one gives a fuck about me.”

I swallow hard, hoping I have the strength not to embarrass him or myself. I don’t know what I have to contribute to a conversation with the wealthy. Actually, yes, I do: nothing.

“Stop, it’ll be fine,” Owen says, squeezing my hand. “My sister and her fiancé will be there. You’ll like her.”

I take in the lobby as we walk through it. My shoes clapping against the marble floor with such gusto that feel like I sound like a horse. The lobby is spotless, and that’s where my mind goes.

How the hell do they keep it so clean?

There’s not a speck of dirt, a stray leaf or a bug anywhere to be seen, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m in some sort of dream and I haven’t woken up.

“I think I need you to pinch me,” I say just as we exit the lobby, but that’s the last thing I need when I see the crowd of people gathered on the massive lawn for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. “Never mind,” I quickly add. “I think I might just need a drink and an oxygen tank.”

“You’re good, babe. You look gorgeous. You’re going to be the most beautiful woman here.” He slips his arm around my waist, holding me to his side. “And I’m here if you need me. Just say the word, and we can leave whenever you want.”

I take a deep breath, readying myself for this just as a gorgeous brunette comes running up to us, letting out a loud squeal.

“Oh my god, where the hell have you been? I’ve been entertaining Mom and Dad’s friends for the last thirty minutes.” She lets out an exasperated sigh before turning to look at me.

“You must be Sloane,” she says, beaming at me. As I take her in, I see the resemblance to Owen and to their mother. The green eyes, the muted brown hair, the perfectly sloped nose. She’s stunning. “I’m Cara, Owen’s sister.”

I reach out to shake her hand, but instead, she pulls me in for a hug. Holding me close, she smells of coconut and something citrusy, and when she pulls back, she’s smiling.

“You look gorgeous. Your dress, your shoes. Where are they from?”

“Actually, I don’t know. Owen picked them out for me,” I say, and for a second, I wonder if it’s weird that I’ve admitted that.

“Owen, shit, bro, you’ve got great taste,” Cara says, and a guy dressed in a linen suit walks up behind her.

“Babe, your parents are looking for you. And you, dude. About damn time you showed up,” he says, clapping hands with Owen and pulling him in for a quick hug.

“So you’ve met my obnoxious sister,” Owen says, chuckling. “Now meet her better half. Sloane, this is Zach, my sister’s fiancé.”

“It’s great to meet you, Sloane,” he says, shaking my hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you. Glad we finally get to meet in person.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to meet you too,” I say, hoping this interaction quells some of my nerves.

“Now it’s your turn to chat with old Mr. Robinson about his yacht,” Cara quips, pointing at Owen. “Ask him about his fishing trip. Fascinating.” She rolls her eyes, her sarcasm seeping through.

“No chatting with the rich old folks,” Zach says, lacing his fingers through Cara’s. “Your parents need both of you.”

“Pictures,” Cara says, adding in that now-signature eye roll. “Come on, you two. If Zach and I have to do this, so do you. You’re not getting out of this, Owen. You’ve gotten away with the surf bum persona for too long. I guess I should be grateful you have a shirt on, huh?”

I laugh out loud, loving how much shit she’s giving him.

She really knows him well, and I love it.

Honestly, meeting Cara has eased a lot of this stress.

She’s so cool and relaxed about it all. Not that I should be surprised.

Their whole family is like this. You’d never know they’re as wealthy as they are, never bringing it up or throwing it around.

We make our way over to where there is clearly a backdrop set up for the media, and I see Owen’s mom and dad standing there chatting with some people.

Sally turns, a huge smile on her face when she sees us. “Oh, good,” she calls out. “Come, we have some pictures we need to do before we can start dinner.”

She hugs both Owen and me, thanking me for coming, and I, in turn, thank her for having me. Owen’s dad, Rick, does the same, making me feel more than welcome.

“Okay, we have a few shots we need to get in, so please cooperate, you two,” Sally says, directing her comment at Cara and Owen. “And Cara, when we’re done here, you need to head over to do your interview and get your shots for the article done.”

Owen leans in, whispering in my ear. “Cara is taking over Orchid Bay Lux. It will be her thing while my parents manage Maui and Oahu.”

“How about you?” I ask, knowing he’s in school and also helping out with things at the hotel.

“Not my gig,” he says. “But I’ll work the environmental end of things once I finish school. I have zero interest in kissing ass and dealing with people.”

He leans down, kissing my shoulder, and we’re then instructed to get ready for pictures. The photographer moves us around, and when I try to slip away, Owen reaches for my hand, tightening his grip.

“I want you in the pictures too,” he says, and Sally looks over, giving a nod of approval.

We pose for what feels like a hundred pictures, all different media organizations getting their chance, and they all ask the same questions. Each one gets our names in the order that we’re lined up for the pictures, asking where we live and how we’re connected to the family.

It becomes rote. Sloane Anderson, girlfriend of Owen Sinclair.

I love the sound of it each time it leaves my mouth.

We’re finally sitting down, surrounded by hundreds of people I don’t know, but Cara and Zach are sitting next to us, and with the empty seats across from us, I assume they’re for his mom and dad.

“How are you holding up?” Cara asks me, leaning over since Owen is between us.

“I’m okay. A little overwhelmed, but okay.”

“Don’t worry, the wine will be out soon enough. That takes the edge off.”

Owen’s arm slips around me, pulling me to him. Again, he presses the sweetest of kisses to my bare shoulder. It’s a simple gesture, but it does something to me, sending a spark of electricity through my body.

“This dress,” he says, his lips next to my ear, his breath warm and his words seductive. His hand skims over my thigh, and goosebumps dot my skin.

“I have a secret,” I murmur back, loving that the noise of the crowd drowns out our words to anyone but us. The tip of my tongue slips out, tracing the shell of his ear softly. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

“Sloane,” he warns, and I giggle as his hand tightens on my thigh. His fingers creep higher, but he stops, and I nearly moan out with disappointment. “Tell me the inside of your thighs are sticky, your pussy begging for my fingers.”

Oh my fucking god. Here we are, surrounded by all these people, and Owen is whispering dirty words in my ear. It’s erotic and filthy, and I’m so turned on that I find my hips moving slowly, my body wanting release.

“Why don’t you find out?” I question back, and it must be too much because I hear Owen literally growl out loud.

His hand moves from my thigh to my wrist, grabbing it, he pulls me up from the chair. Without words, I’m following him away from the crowd and down a hallway.

Neither of us speaks, and when he comes to a room far enough away, he punches in a code. The door opens to a storage room filled with shelves loaded down with cleaning supplies and towels, a stationary sink in the corner for filling buckets.

Shoving the door closed behind us, he backs me up against it, his body flush with mine. Our chests are heaving, heat radiating between us.

“You can’t fucking say shit like that to me and not expect me to react,” he hisses, dropping to his knees in front of me. “Hold your dress up,” he now commands, and I gather it in my hand, exposing myself to him.

There’s something so fucking hot about being in here with him, all those people out there, the possibility of being caught. I’m so turned on I’m nearly dripping.

His mouth is on me, his tongue instantly lapping at my clit, and my head falls back against the door with a thud.

“You’re gonna need to be quiet for me, baby, okay?” Owen says, his breath ghosting against my bare skin. “I don’t want anyone to hear you in here, to know I’m eating you out.”

“Yes,” I call out in agreement, my free hand tangling in his hair, pushing him back where I need him.

“So fucking greedy,” he growls. “Watch me, sweets. Watch me eat your pussy.”

My eyes fall to where he’s between my thighs, looking up at me. His tongue flicks against my clit, making my hips buck. I hook my leg over his shoulder to give him better access, opening myself to him.

But what he does next has me nearly coming on the spot.

I watch as his mouth laps at me, his tongue moving so fast that my legs begin to shake.

He undoes his pants, pulling out his dick, and then he flattens his palm against my center, dragging it over my soaked pussy, he coats his hand in my arousal.

Pulling it away, he spits on it and begins to jack himself off.

“Fuck,” I mutter, trying to be quiet but nearly failing. My thighs tremble as he sucks my clit between his lips, rolling his tongue over it.

“Don’t you dare come yet,” Owen demands. Stopping, he blows along my seam, his breath warm, and I shudder at it.

His hand moves on his dick, pumping up and down, hard and fast, grunting with each pass. I move my hips, seeking friction.

“Fuck, Sloane,” Owen gasps, coming all over his hand, his eyes never leaving mine, but my body aches for him.

“Owen,” I moan, my pussy drenched and needing release. I force my hips against his face, needing his mouth again. My center throbs, wet and aching.

With his mouth back on me now, his tongue and teeth grazing my swollen clit, my body tightens deliciously. The pull in my stomach tells me I’m close, and as if Owen knows, he takes his cum-soaked hand and paints the inside of my thighs with his release, leaving me sticky and desperate.

And as he sucks my clit into his mouth one last time, he shoves two fingers inside me, sending me over the edge.