Page 23 of Fragile Hearts (Hibiscus Hearts #3)

Hearing those words leave my mouth is the scariest yet most exhilarating moment of my life. I’ve never said them to anyone—not Alana or Daisy, and I certainly can’t remember ever saying them to my mom. I’m sure I did, or maybe I didn’t.

But it doesn’t matter because having never said them or heard them often enough makes everything about this so fucking perfect.

I’ve said it a million times, Owen Sinclair is perfect, a literal unicorn among men, and I scored him. He waited for me, and somewhere in the chaos of my life, I gave him a chance.

When I saw that orange eviction sticker on the front door of the little cottage I shared with Daisy, I didn’t think things could get worse.

A fucking low point, but under those dark clouds, waiting for me, was Owen to swoop in and save the day.

Even if, at the time, it felt like a horrible decision to move in with someone who had a crush on me for the better part of a year.

It was the best decision I’ve ever made.

I still don’t know what I did to make him wait for me or fall in love with me, but I’d do it a million times over if it means we end up here every time.

All those sleepless nights, all those times I cried in my bed wishing for someone to love me.

All I wanted was a safe place to land, and here I am.

Owen is my safe space.

We climb into the massive bed with the softest sheets I’ve ever slept on. My body is fully relaxed, sated and calm after the sex and the bath, the warm water soothing every inch of me.

“I can’t believe we have to leave tomorrow,” I whisper, the room dark, the warm ocean breeze blowing through the open doors of the lanai. “Thank you for all of this. It’s something I will remember for the rest of my life.”

It’s not just being spoiled with some of the best food and accommodations or getting to leave Maui for one of the most pristine islands, but for how I’ve been welcomed into the Sinclair family with open arms.

The entire evening, Sally and Rick included me in anything that involved their children, with Sally complimenting me and telling me how happy she was that I was here. I couldn’t thank her enough for showing me what it’s like to have a family, to be loved and supported.

“Me too,” Owen says, my body cradled against his. His embrace is warm and comforting, and with that, I find my lids growing heavy. “Sleep, sweets.”

It’s with those words that my eyes fall closed, a peaceful slumber that only being in love can bring.

We wake early, something we’re both accustomed to, and normally we’d be out on the water before class or work. But this morning, our last morning here, it’s all about us and our bodies.

A heavy breath leaves Owen’s mouth, his lips leaving a path of soft kisses across my shoulder. My eyes are closed, basking in the feeling of complete and utter obsession.

That’s what this is.

Obsession.

I’m infatuated with him.

His body.

His mind.

His soul.

His heart.

Everything.

I reach back, weaving my hand through his messy hair, his sleep-laced sigh sends a shiver up my spine. Moving my hips slowly, my ass brushing against his already hard cock, he moans, soft and deep, and I love the sound. It’s because of me and everything we are together.

Owen’s hand wraps around my throat, squeezing gently, his mouth next to my ear as he whispers, “I think you like it rough, but I want to treat you like glass, baby.”

“I won’t break, Owen,” I murmur back, my words coming out on a breathy exhale, that desperation I’ve felt all weekend returning.

His hand moves over my collarbone, his fingers dancing softly over my skin, and I push my ass back against him. Cupping the swell of my breast, his calloused palm brushes over my nipple, and it tightens into a hardened peak in response, begging to be pulled, sucked, tweaked and bitten.

“How rough do you want it, sweets?” Owen asks, a possessive rasp to his voice, and I open my thighs, his knee sliding between them.

He rolls my nipple between his fingers, increasing the pressure as I whimper with each movement. Tugging harder now, my moan echoes in the vast size of the room, which only seems to encourage Owen on.

“Rough, Owen,” I plead, my hand now covering his, guiding it down over my stomach to between my legs. “See what you do to me?” I ask, our joined fingers sliding through my wetness.

“It aches, doesn’t it, sweets?”

Fuck, his words are like a hard line to my pussy, soaking our hands and begging for my release. Grinding against his knee, needing more than just the hard press of his body.

“Inside me. Now,” I command, and he laughs, tsking at my demand.

“Not yet,” he tells me, his fingers strumming my clit, softly at first, upping the tempo as my body responds, humming with desire.

He can feel it, so in tune and understanding of what I need. Owen Sinclair worships me like I’m a fucking god to his dick.

“Tell me when you’re close, baby,” he purrs in my ear, his teeth grazing and nipping at my sensitive skin.

But I don’t need to, my thighs shaking, my head falling back, the soft moans that leave my lips, tell him what he needs to hear.

And he stops, leaving my clit throbbing, my pussy drenched as he makes his way back up my body. Each ghost of his fingers, each brush of his mouth is deliberate and controlled.

“Do you trust me, Sloane?” he growls, his hand back around my neck as a delicious tightness pulls in my stomach.

“Yes,” I moan out. My word is loud and needy but loving every second of this with him.

His hand returns, rubbing softly at first, and then rough and hard, taking me to the edge and stopping, over and over until I’m a writhing, wet mess.

“Owen,” I call out, his name a desperate plea on my lips, and when he rolls onto his back, grabbing my hips, he lifts me onto him.

“Ride me, baby, rough and hard. Make yourself come.”

His demand is like music to my ears, and I do what he says. Sinking down onto him, his dick filling me, the delicious feeling of fullness as he stretches me, my body opening up to accommodate him.

And as I move against him, my body humming and electrified and desperate, his fingers work over my clit.

It’s all I need to come undone. Clenching around him in the most powerful orgasm of my life. It shoots through me, my walls clenching around him as my head falls back, moans and whimpers leaving my lips on every exhale.

Owen’s hips thrust up to meet mine, rough and deep, his hands gripping my hips as he unloads inside me, coaxing every drop out of him.

“Oh my fucking god,” I mutter, collapsing on Owen’s chest. Both our breathing is heavy, our chests heaving, our hearts beating in time together.

“What a fucking way to start our morning and end our time here,” Owen whispers, his words soft and sweet, his hand tracing gentle circles over my warm skin.

I love everything about him. Every different trait, every touch, every word, every simple gesture, and all the obvious ones too.

It’s been a couple of days since our trip to Lanai, and we’re back into the swing of things at home. Surfing and class and work. Dinners in the evenings together, movies and falling into bed. Waking up next to each other, and the sex—oh, the fucking sex.

There’s nothing like it. I’m addicted, and I love it.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Owen asks, coming in the back door, his hair wet, no shirt on as usual.

He was out surfing despite being out on the water all day today for lessons with The Pipe Dream.

“Alana’s chicken long rice because I miss her,” I tell him, and he walks over, kissing my temple.

“I can get the jet and we can hop over to Oahu to visit her,” he says, and I laugh. Everything with him is just so simple.

Grab the jet.

Island hop.

And honestly, it is. He has the resources, the money, all at his fingertips, and he has no problem using it to spoil me.

“While that offer is incredibly generous, I have class and work, and so do you. We can’t just pick up and leave whenever we want.”

“You’re right,” he echoes back. Taking my chin between his fingers, he pulls my mouth to him. “I love you.”

“What was that for?”

“Just thought you needed a little reminder.” He swats my ass, hitting me with a cheeky grin. “I’m gonna go shower, and then we can eat, okay?”

“All good, babe.”

Owen disappears down the hall, and as I’m stirring dinner, my phone chimes.

Daisy: I miss your face! I’m coming over, so you better be home.

Me: I’m here! And I miss your face too.

Ten minutes later, Daisy is strolling through the door. Her dark hair is piled on top of her head, a messy bun that comes across as effortlessly perfect, and she’s absolutely beaming when she sees me.

“Oh my god,” she wails, running over to hug me. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in like a fucking decade.”

It has been tough. We lived together for a year, basically seeing each other every day and spending hours together regularly.

“I know. I miss you so much. How are things going at your mom’s?” I ask, knowing this is where Daisy ended up when we got evicted.

“Shitty,” she replies, rolling her eyes as she pulls out a stool at the island. Resting her elbows on the cool white marble, she lets out an exasperated sigh.

“What’s going on?”

I spoon some long rice into bowls for the two of us, not bothering with Owen’s yet since he’s still in the shower.

Pushing one of the bowls across the table to her, she pushes her full bottom lip out in a pout. “Alana’s chicken long rice,” she says, a hint of sadness in her tone that I feel too.

“It’s weird having her gone, right?” I say, my nose wrinkling up.

“Totally, but she deserves it. She’s out there kicking the surfing world’s ass, which is where she was always meant to be,” Daisy says, and I nod in agreement. “Even weirder was having you gone. Tell me about your trip.”

“You tell me why living with your mom has been shitty, and then I’ll fill you in on my weekend with Owen,” I counter.

“You know why,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Isaac. She hates him.”

I want to tell her we all hate him, but I reserve my words for a time when they might mean something. Right now, she’s all-in with him again, still trying to drown her sorrows over Miles despite Isaac’s asshole tendencies and the shitty way he treats Daisy.

I’m not one to talk though, or to dish out advice. I avoided Owen like the plague, and now look at us. If only Daisy would see…

“Yeah, how are things with him?” I ask, but her response will be what it always is.

“Good, great, actually.” And now it’s me who wants to roll my eyes, but I control myself. Things with Daisy and Isaac are never great. It’s the reason she never brings him around when we’re all together. Things will never be great, yet she just can’t seem to see that.

“Awesome. Glad to hear it,” I say, the lie slipping out way too easily. If Alana were here, she’d be the one voicing her opinion on it all.

“Now, your weekend,” Daisy says, just as Owen comes into the kitchen.

“Daze,” he calls, walking over to her. He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Good to see you.”

“You, too, O,” she replies. “Was just asking Sloane about your weekend. How was it?” She’s smirking at me, and I let out a soft laugh.

She knows it was pretty good by the text updates I was sending while I was there, but I left out quite a few details, and she’s here to get those. Although I don’t see that happening with Owen standing next to me.

“It was fucking epic,” he says, his arm looping around my waist, pulling me close.

“That’s a good way to describe it,” I add, pushing up on my toes to kiss him, and Daisy lets out the sweetest coo when I do.

“You two, oh my god. The fucking cutest.”