Page 35 of I Love You, I Hate You

@Lukethebarnyardcat

Honestly? My job now. I’m just Don Fucking Quixote, tilting at capitalist windmills

@Noraephronwasagenius

How do you handle taking risks like that? I know you’re rich, but there must be some real brass balls behind that money to be this bold. Teach me your ways, because I don’t know how you manage it. I can fake it, but with you it’s the real thing.

@Lukethebarnyardcat

I’m a white male, Nora

The world is literally designed to make me happy

I don’t really need to be brave. The world will pick up after me. So I’m just trying to do what I can to even the playing field for everyone else

@Noraephronwasagenius

I would hate you if I didn’t adore you so much, you know.

@Lukethebarnyardcat

I know

Chapter Fourteen

Water hissed against the tiles, muffled by the bathroom door. The ride up to the room had been surprisingly quiet. Something had shifted between them during the dance, and Victoria wasn’t sure she could put her finger on it, exactly, but things were different-with-a-capital-D. Even the bride had noticed, cornering her while Owen went to get drinks.Since when are you and Owen a thing?Cassie had hissed, and Victoria wasn’t quite sure how to answer.

Because she honestly didn’t know. They hadn’t talked about it, but it was clearly more than she ever anticipated. She’d tested her theory earlier by seeing if he’d hold her hand when the ceremony was over, and the speed at which he’d accepted—and the way his thumb caressed the back of her hand—had seemed to answer it, but after their slow dance he had gotten quiet.Regret, maybe, or maybe he doesn’t want to send me the wrong signals?But there was still that now-familiar look in his eye whenever he glanced at her, heavy and thick.Lust. That’s what makes the most sense, she decided.Not hate sex and not quite a relationship, but something in between.It was more in their comfort zone than real feelings, although her heart sank strangely at the realization.

The easiest, most grown-up way of handling it would be to ask him, but she couldn’t find the words. Owen had confessed that he needed to shower when they got into the room, his shirt soaked nearly through under his suitcoat, and she had been standing outside the bathroom door like a creeper ever since. Victoria pressed her forehead against the door and took a deep, steadying breath. She should probably wait, but she was impatient. And the longer she stood here thinking, the more fear worked its way inside her chest. If it was just lust for him that would hurt, even as she told herself that’s all it was for her. The more she thought the tighter the tension in her lungs rose, and Victoria decided it was better to just get them back on their usual footing.

She knocked.

The answering pause was long enough to make her consider running downstairs, stealing his car, and driving all the way back to Minneapolis rather than face him. But finally he responded. “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?”

Another long pause. “Yeah,” he agreed.

The bathroom was surprisingly modern for the old-fashioned building they were in, all glossy subway tile and chrome. The shower itself was glass, with a wide shower head sending gentle sheets of water cascading down Owen’s shoulders. Victoria kept her chin up but the moment she saw the look in his eyes her knees went weak.

Getting back on track wouldn’t be hard, with him looking at her like that. He wanted her, and she was powerless where that was concerned. She pointedly dropped her gaze, taking in the ridged planes of his stomach, lightly dusted with hair, and trailing down to the junction between his thighs. His cock was thickening against his thigh and he flexed his fingers as if resisting. “Mind if I join you?” she asked, dropping her voice to a sultry purr.

Owen lifted an eyebrow. “If you’d like,” he said casually, but the slow, spreading flush on his neck told her more than his tone.

The dress slipped from her shoulders with a hiss. The beads clinked against the tile and his eyes darkened. Rent the Runway was a godsend, and not just because it let her go to a black-tie wedding without having to dip into her precious savings. She would be remembering the way Owen looked at her in that dress for years—decades, even. Her bra resembled a corset, secured at her lower back with just two clasps, the narrow band easily hidden by the waist of her dress. She sighed in relief when the black fabric released. Owen’s hand flexed again, his dick now fully hard, but still he refrained from touching himself. Her hair came out of its coiled updo with a few tugs of pins, cascading down her shoulders.

Owen took a long moment to survey her. Clouds of steam billowed out of the shower and silence hung thick between them. Then he turned to face the water with a shrug, as if to sayit’s all up to you.

Good god, she loved that. He had a habit of turning things over to her in a way that made her feel powerful, even if she knew within minutes she would be under his control. Or maybe it wasbecauseshe knew that was coming. The way they handed control back and forth, easy as breathing in and out, was unlike her experiences with any other man.

Victoria closed the glass door behind her and molded herself against his back, cheek against his shoulder. Water sprayed her skin, gentle and insistent, and Owen bowed his head. “Are you sure?” he said, so lowly she almost missed it.

Victoria decided to let her touch do the answering. He dropped his head back against her shoulder and their lips met in a sloppy, off-center kiss. Victoria slid her hand down his long, thick length, twisting her wrist when she reached the tip, the water raining down on them both. She only made it a few more strokes before Owen spun in her arms and took her face in his hands. This kiss was deep and needy, verging on desperate.

She sank to her knees without hesitation. Owen’s hand came to cup the back of her head, not holding her in place but urging her on. She loosened her jaw and drew him deeper, making his hand fist tightly in her hair. More curses dripped from his lips. Victoria moaned, setting a rhythm she knew would break him, and break him she did. It was hardly any time at all before he was groaning and coming, spilling down her throat.

Owen yanked her up to stand and kissed her hard. “Fuck,” he muttered against her lips. “Fuck. How do you—how do you do that to me?”