Page 9 of Protected by the Loner (The Men of Ghost Security #2)

OWEN

T he second the door closes behind us when we arrive at her apartment, Vivian turns to face me. Not to kiss me—just to look at me. Really look at me, like she’s making sure I’m not running.

“You’re really here,” she says softly.

“I’m not running.” I cup her face in both hands, feeling the warmth of her skin and the tremor of her breath against my palms. For a second, the enormity of what I almost lost punches through me. “I’m sorry I made you doubt that. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Her hands come up to cover mine. Her thumbs stroke the insides of my wrists as if anchoring me. “Owen, I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“If you get scared again—about us, about your work, about anything—you talk to me. You don’t disappear. Even if it’s hard, even if you think you’re protecting me, you stay and we figure it out together.”

The words lodge in my throat. This is the commitment I’ve been avoiding my whole adult life.

And with Vivian looking at me like this, I realize I want it more than I’ve wanted anything.

With a glimpse of what life with Vivian could look like, I can no longer imagine continuing on the lonely life I’ve been leading.

It took Vivian to make me see what was possible.

“I promise,” I say. My voice is rough but sure. “I’ll talk to you. I’ll stay.”

She rises on her toes and kisses me, and this time it’s not desperate or frantic.

It’s a promise of its own. I kiss her slowly, thoroughly, pouring everything I couldn’t say this past week into the press of my mouth against hers.

The kiss deepens and softens at the same time, like breathing after holding my breath for too long.

When we break apart, her eyes are bright. “Take me to bed.”

We make our way to her bedroom, kissing like teenagers as we stumble down the short hallway.

For a moment, we stand by her bed, foreheads touching, breathing each other in.

Then we undress each other with deliberate care.

No frantic tearing at clothes this time.

I slide her sweater up slowly, savoring the way her skin pebbles in the cool air.

She tugs at my shirt, palms gliding over my chest as it comes off. Each movement is slow and lingering.

When we’re both naked, I pull her onto the bed with me, positioning us so we’re face to face, her body stretched out alongside mine. My fingertips drift over her hip and up her waist, relishing the curves of her womanly body, the rise and fall of her breathing.

“I missed you,” I say, the words raw. “Every day this week, I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” She touches my face, her thumb brushing along my jaw, her eyes searching mine. “I was so angry with you. But mostly I just wanted you back.”

“You have me.” I kiss her forehead, her temple, the corner of her mouth. “I’m here, Vivian. I’m not going anywhere.”

She guides me over her, and I settle between her thighs, bracing myself on my forearms so I can see her face. Her hands slide up my back, fingers tracing lines between my shoulder blades, pulling me closer.

“Make love to me,” she whispers.

I reach between us, groaning when my fingers find her hot slickness.

I tease her clit and smile as I watch pleasure fill her eyes before positioning myself.

When I push inside, we both exhale—not with desperate lust, but with relief.

She hooks her ankles around my hips, drawing me in fully, and the feel of her accepting me makes my chest ache.

“God,” I breathe, staying still for a moment, feeling her around me, feeling the tremble in her thighs against my sides. “Vivian.”

“I know.” She arches slightly, her palms gliding up my arms to my neck. “I feel it too.”

I move slowly at first, savoring the way she grips me—tight, hot, perfect—as if her body missed me as much as her heart did. With each thrust, I give myself more to Vivian—not just sex, but my love. I watch her face as pleasure builds, as her lips part and her eyes darken.

“Look at me,” I murmur when her breathing becomes jagged and her eyes fall to half-mast. “I want to see you.”

She opens them, and the intensity of her gaze opens something deep in my heart and soul. I can see everything there—trust, desire, a depth that makes my heartbeat falter. I see our future together.

“You’re so beautiful,” I tell her, meaning it in every possible way. “You’re everything.”

“Owen.” My name on her lips is the best sound in the world.

She pulls me down for a kiss, and I keep moving, slow circles of my hips, adjusting my angle until her breath catches and a soft sound breaks from her throat. The rhythm turns into a pulse between us—her legs tightening, my body answering instinctively.

“Is this good?” I ask against her mouth, voice ragged. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just this.” Her fingers thread through my hair, anchoring me. “Just you. Don’t stop.”

I don’t. I keep the pace deliberate, deep, letting the pleasure build between us gradually.

Our bodies move in a frantic rhythm, her scent filling my lungs, her whispered breaths in my ear—every detail sharpens.

Her body trembles, she bucks against me, and my control dissolves.

Sweat slicks our skin as we move together passionately; her thigh gliding against my side as she moves with me now, rising to meet each thrust.

This is what I was running from—this closeness, this ache—I thought I would never be worthy of a woman like Vivian or feeling this way, but oh, how I was wrong. I never want to let it go. I will never let Vivian go.

“Vivian,” I pant, forehead pressed to hers. “I’m close.”

“Me too.” She cups my face, keeping our eyes locked even as her body trembles. “Come with me. I want to feel you.”

The love in Vivian’s eyes breaks something open in me.

I let go of the restraint I’ve held, and my hips move harder, deeper, not in a rush but in complete surrender.

She clutches me tighter, crying out my name as she shudders beneath me, and the feel of her release pulls me over the edge with her.

I thrust once, twice more, and then I’m gone—shattering, consumed, everything inside me flooding into her with a groan I can't hold back.

I stay inside her as long as I can, kissing her face, her throat, her lips, until the tremors ease. Then I roll onto my side, pulling her with me so we’re tangled together. We’re both breathing hard, skin damp, but all I feel is quiet and whole.

“That was—” I say.

“Yeah.” She traces patterns on my chest. “The first time was incredible, but this...”

“This felt real.” I kiss the top of her head. “Like a beginning instead of just a night.”

She lifts her head to look at me, her expression serious. “Is that what you want? A beginning?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. “I know I’m not easy. I know I get consumed by work. But I want to do the work, Vivian. With you, I want to build a future.”

“I want that, too.” She smiles, and it transforms her whole face. “We’ll figure it out together.”

We lie there in comfortable silence for a long moment, just holding each other. Finally, she shifts slightly in my arms.

“So,” she says, a hint of mischief in her voice. “You coordinated with Izzy all week while avoiding me?”

I groan. “I was trying to fix the problem I couldn’t face.”

“My dear Owen.” But she’s smiling. “Thank you. For not giving up on me, even when I thought you were giving up on us.”

“I wasn’t giving up on us. I was just being an idiot.” I pull her closer. “But I’m done with that now.”

“Good.” She yawns, nestling into my chest. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

“I don’t want you to.” I stroke her hair, feeling her breathing start to even out. “Vivian?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m falling in love with you.”

She goes still for a moment, then tilts her head up to meet my eyes.

“I love you, too.”

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