Page 27 of Pick Me

The headlights of Owen’s car illuminated the front of the house as we pulled down the white stone driveway. “Nice place.”

It was an obvious understatement, because the gray-shingled house with a gambrel roof had the old money aesthetic of a true

Hamptons classic.

“Yeah, it’ll do,” I joked. “Come in and check it out while I change.”

He came to a stop and put the car in park, motor running. “It’s fine; I’ll wait out here.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. You’re going to be quick, right?”

I was so fizzy from the Kai moment that I hadn’t actually thought through what I needed to do to clean up. My makeup was ruined,

my hair was shaggy thanks to the air-drying, and I didn’t have anything else cute enough to wear.

“I need to do something with this.” I pointed to my head. “That’ll take a few minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll wait,” he said as he turned off the car.

“And I’ll rush.”

I ran to the house and had to enter the code into the keypad three times before I got it right. It wasn’t fair of me to make him wait in the driveway like a chauffeur, so I decided to skip the overhaul and work with what I had.

Everything inside the house was white, white, white, and I felt like I was filthy, so I kicked off my wet sneakers at the

door and jogged up the perfectly spaced steps to my white-with-orange-accents room at the end of the hall. My first stop was

my bathroom for a quick face wash to get off the remainder of my makeup. Not that I wore much, but the traces of it had left

little smudges beneath my eyes. Noticeable in the bright light of the bathroom but probably not in the darkness at the party.

My dress had dried to just uncomfortably damp instead of full-on sopping. As I turned around to try to reach the tie in the

back, I remembered that Meredith had strapped me into it, laughing about the tightness of her knot. When I tugged at it, I

realized that she’d done some sort of complicated triple loop that could’ve secured a yacht to a dock, because the thing wasn’t

budging.

I bent over at my waist and tried to pull the whole dress up over my head. Suddenly, it was as tight as a corset. I flipped

upright and stared at myself in the mirror, the dress half snagged up in my underwear. I only had one option.

I grabbed my phone.

OMFG, I’m trapped in this dress!! Could you please untie the knot in back?

It took a few minutes before Owen responded.

Yup.

Thank you! Meet you in the foyer

I shoved my hair up in a ponytail and jogged down the stairs. Owen was standing outside, his back to the door.

“Hey!” I flung the door open so abruptly that he jumped. “Come in.”

Owen stepped inside gingerly, like he was afraid the place was booby-trapped.

“Lemme see,” he said, and I spun around so he could survey the shibari crisscrossing my back. He gave the knot a tug. “The

water didn’t help; it’s basically cemented now.”

He was close enough to me that I could feel the warmth of his hands hovering near my back, but I noticed that he took care

not to let his fingers brush against my skin as he worked the knot.

“You can’t just pull the whole dress off?”

I shook my head. “I tried. Wide ribs.”

He snorted softly. “That’s a thing?”

“Yup, something brand-new for me to obsess about. My big-ass ribs, in addition to my wonky thumbs, the vein in my forehead,

my double chin, my concave ass, and my weird eyebrows.”

Owen paused with one hand still tugging the string. “Are you serious ?”

I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Well, yeah, I think every woman has a list of random things that she hates about herself.

I have more—shall I go on?”

“God, no.” He resumed fiddling with the knot. “That’s some warped thinking.”

I didn’t answer him because I was too focused on the way his hand was now resting against my skin. Lightly, almost ticklish,

but the gentle contact was enough to send warm ripples along my back.

“I can’t find a single thing wrong with you,” he murmured as he worked, so softly that he might’ve been talking to himself.

I swallowed hard as he slid a palm beneath the strapping.

“Okay, now I see what’s going on. It’s twisted with another part.”

Owen’s efforts to maintain some sort of boundary between us seemed to be lost as he focused more on winning the knot war.

Every knuckle brush against my back made me catch my breath.

Still so fucking touch starved. Still left quivering from the most basic of human contact.

But then again, it didn’t feel basic to me. Owen was now bent at the waist with his warm fingertips brushing against me in

unpredictable rhythms. I had to fight to keep from moving closer to him.

“Come this way,” Owen said as he tugged the straps and gently leash walked me backward toward a small desk lamp, the only

light in the foyer.

I was instantly reminded of the scene I’d written in Christmas at Whiskey Ranch where my hero Blaze lassoed a very ornery Nellie and pulled her across the barn to where he was standing. When she kicked

up a fuss, he’d flicked the rope around her body again and then secured her wrists together so she was basically helpless.

And then he’d kissed her, long and hard, because they both knew it was exactly what she wanted.

After asking first, of course, because I was a consent queen.

Just thinking about the scene made me blush, because what came next involved Nellie bent over a saddle rack with her hands

still bound together while Blaze buried himself in her from behind.

Yeah, I could use some of that right now.

I let out a long, slow breath through pursed lips and flicked my eyes back to Owen in the reflection of the mirror above the light.

Owen’s movements slowed, like he sensed that the knot was about to pull free and he wanted to prolong the moment.

“Almost there,” he said softly.

He pulled at the tangle and the dress went tight against my chest. I glanced at myself in the mirror to confirm that, yes,

my nipples were at full attention.

This time not from the cold.

Owen was focused, squinting a little, and lit like a Vermeer painting with half his face in shadow and the other bathed in

the golden light. He was as clean-shaven as I’d ever seen, though the hint of scruff remained, like a stain in a coffee cup.

I let out a little sigh. He’d never looked better.

“And there... we... go ,” Owen murmured as the straps finally pulled free. “Wait, hold on. One last tangle.”

He didn’t know that I was staring at him in the mirror. I watched him as he gently unwound the thin string from around the

other straps, smoothing them to the side with his palms like he was cleaning condensation from a mirror and sending goose

bumps racing down my arms. The dress skated down my shoulders and I had to clutch my hands to my chest to keep it from falling

off my body.

Neither one of us moved away.

Owen was closer than necessary now that I was free. It felt a little like the way he’d stood behind me at my first lesson,

but the stakes were so much higher this time around.

“Did you just shiver?” he whispered, finally catching my eye in the mirror.

I nodded shyly. “You give a mean accidental massage. Your hands are . . . nice. Gentle.”

He glanced at my naked skin. “Whoops, still a mess at the bottom.”

This time he swept his hand across my lower back, making me giggle. I arched away.

“Ticklish?” he asked with a soft laugh.

“Maybe a little.”

We held each other’s gaze in the mirror, still close enough to give in to the pull we both seemed to be trying to ignore.

My breathing went shallow. My body was now in furnace mode, kicking out enough heat that my dress would be dry in minutes.

I turned so that we were face-to-face and looked up at him. Given we’d already kissed more frequently than what was acceptable

for friends helping friends, it felt familiar being so close to him. His chest rose and fell, like freeing me from the dress

was a marathon he’d just finished.

Do it.

The invasive thought was so overwhelming that I had to fight to keep from going up on my tiptoes to kiss him yet again.

Owen’s eyes were anchored to my mouth, which felt like a countdown to something.

Any time we kissed, it was good . There was no disputing what was fact. And despite all the static around Kai, and Owen’s history as the underappreciated

third angle of a love triangle, it was about to happen again.

My stomach flipped at the thought of his lips on mine.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” he rasped as his gaze traveled around my face.

I could hear my heartbeat pulsing in my ears. “I don’t believe you,” I whispered.

I inched toward him, almost daring him to step back from me. Nothing made sense but somehow everything did.

“You’re drunk,” he countered without moving away.

“Not even close,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as desperate for him as I felt.

I went statue still, not wanting to break the spell, but inside my body was alive with a pulsing need to get on with it . To make the inevitable moment that we were both pretending wasn’t going to happen, happen.

“This is the last time,” Owen growled, then swept me into his arms.

His mouth found mine like the waiting had tripled his urgency, but within the first few seconds, I could sense that this kiss

was different. His lips were almost fierce against mine, like he was angry that we were kissing but powerless to stop it.

The words “hate fuck” flitted through my head, but it was impossible because I could never hate Owen, and we weren’t going

to fuck, no matter how badly I wanted to.

Owen reclaimed the naked skin of my back without any of the hesitancy of a few minutes prior, like every inch of me was now

fair game. His tongue flicked against my lips, and I stifled a little thankful noise before it could escape the back of my

throat.

The only thing holding up my dress now was the tension of our bodies smashed together. Owen’s hands slid down to cup my ass,

drawing me closer still, until I had zero doubt about what I felt pressing up against me. I slid my hand between us and against

his hardness.

“ Brooke ,” he whispered.

I kept going, drawing my hand up and down his stiff cock as we kissed.

His fingertips migrated down my back to the hem of my dress, drawing it up the sides of my thighs and getting a whimper out of me.

He turned me so that my ass was up against the sturdy table, never breaking off the kiss, then picked me up and sat me on top of it and bumped his way past my knees.

I smiled against his mouth, then drew in a sharp breath when he pressed his hand against the heat between my legs.

The faintest touch through cotton was enough to send shocks through my body.

“We should stop,” he murmured as he moved to take my earlobe in his mouth.

His body hadn’t gotten the message. The featherlight touches through the thin fabric of my underwear had me feeling unhinged

and desperate for him.

My head fell back as Owen finally slid his fingertips beneath the elastic, and he took advantage of my exposed neck, kissing

me from my ear to my collarbone, then back to my mouth.

He wasn’t tentative. He was toying with me, teasing me in time with my jagged breathing.

“Owen...” I inhaled sharply, my lips pressed against his ear.

My heartbeat was a drumline, loud enough that he could probably hear it.

“Do you want me to stop?” He brushed against my warm heat, and I shook my head and tightened my thighs around his waist as

an answer.

“Do you like it?” Owen murmured. He teased his fingers along the dampness between my legs, so gently that I quivered with

need.

My head dropped back, and I made a noise that was the closest I could get to a yes.

“I’ve thought about this so many times . . .” he whispered in my ear, trailing off like he needed to fully focus on the little circles he was making with his fingertips.

Our mouths crashed together again, right as the front door swung open and the massive chandelier above us flicked on.

“Um, whoops ,” Meredith said, eyes wide.