Page 42 of Unplanned Target

I still don’t. Because this man only makes me feel stronger. More empowered. More confident and capable. He’s not intimidated by who I am and he doesn’t want me to be smaller.

So if anything, he encourages the feminism inside me to bloom.

Yet another reason I’d like to suck his dick. Because feminism isn’t about telling women what they should and shouldn’t do or want. It’s about women having the privilege to choose what’s best for them. And right now, what’s best for me is to have Owen’s dick in my mouth.

“That wasn’t a favor.” Owen leans down, coming so close the tips of our noses barely touch. “And I think you know that.”

“What would you call it then?” I want to know how he frames it. The reasons behind what he did. Because if it wasn’t a favor...

Then I might want to suck his dick twice.

“Making sure you’re treated the way you deserve to be treated.” Owen’s voice is a deep rumble as he inches closer, the hard line of his body pressing against mine. “No one is going to speak to you like that in front of me. Not even your brother.” His hand slides from my hip, tracing a path up my side to curve along my rib cage. “And if I find out someone treats you like that behind my back, I’m going to hunt them down and make sure they understand the mistake they’ve made.”

My stomach flips at his claim. “You’re probably going to be really busy then, because I piss a lot of men off on a daily basis.”

Owen’s lips curve in a dangerous smile. “Hunting down men who’ve made bad choices is my specialty, sweetheart.”

Yeah. Pretty sure I’m going to orgasm spontaneously.

Owen’s head tilts, his nose trailing along my cheek as he leans to brush his lips along the side of my neck. He inhales deeply against my skin. “You smell so fucking good.”

“I took a shower.” It was one of the first things I did after getting here, and what led to my discovery that I was not in a random room. “I probably smell like you because I used whatever was there.”

And what was there was a whole lineup of men’s toiletries. They all smelled divine, and very familiar.

“You should smell like me more often.” Owen presses closer, the hard ridge of his cock jutting against my belly. “You should also tell me to go to my room before I try to find out if all your skin smells like me.”

“Yeah. I am not going to do that.” Not for all the money in the world. Especially if he plans to investigate all of my skin.

“I don’t think you understand where that’s going to lead, Mir.” Owen’s hand shifts up a little more, this time stopping at the underside of my breast.

So freaking close.

“I know it’s been ten years, but I’m pretty sure I remember the logistics.” I wiggle a little, trying to work myself lower in order to get his touch where I want it. “But I’m very open to you refreshing my memory.”

“I can’t fuck you, Miranda.” There is genuine regret in Owen’s voice.

I know the feeling.

“Why not?” I don’t mean to sound whiny, but I do. After so long of not being interested in this sort of activity, now that I am, it can’t happen fast enough. “I consent. You have my full permission. I’ll sign documents if that’s what you need.”

Owen chuckles, the sound rich and deep as it reverberates from his chest to mine. “It’s not about that.” His hand inches up the tiniest bit, almost making the contact I’m desperate for. “The problem is, I’m a little concerned about my ability to give you up once I’ve had you.”

A whimper works its way up my throat. It’s of frustration. Of desire. Of confusion.

How can I want someone so desperately in such a short period of time? I was with my ex-husband for years and never felt even close to as needy as I feel right now. It took me months to fall in love with him and years before I was willing to get married. There’s no reason for me to want Owen like this after twenty-four hours.

Except...

I actually have a whole list of reasons why I want him, and the fact that he is hot isn’t even at the top. I mean it’s there, for sure, but his physical attributes rank way beneath his other characteristics.

Like his kindness. His calmness. The way he sees me for who I am, and isn’t intimidated or judgmental. His willingness to take on a task without requiring my input or direction. The easy way he offers what I need when I’m upset or scared.

And then there’s the way he is with my daughter. There’s no frustration or aggravation at her admittedly dangerous behavior. He doesn’t try to control her or berate her for what she did. He simply calmly explained why it was a bad idea, and how he would help her learn safer alternatives. And now he’s claiming that not only does he want to fuck me once, but he will likely want to keep fucking me.

I haven’t really thought beyond this moment, but if I had...

I probably have to consider that I might want to hang onto Owen for more than just one interaction as well.