I dig my keys out of my purse, unlock the door, and send him off with a little wave.
“Thanks for the ride,” I call out to him as he pulls away. “I’ll see you soon.”
And I know I’ll see him soon because I know Owen wants to see me again—whether he’s willing to admit it or not.
I start writing a text to Owen, telling him that if he ever wants to see his shirt again, he’s going to have to rip it off my hot, naked body.
But I can’t bring myself to send it.
If he still wants me, he knows where to find me now.
Chapter 13
Owen
I stand there, watching the limo pull away as the horde of paparazzi continues to swarm around me.
It pains me to see her go, but I know it’s for the better. It’s the smart and right thing to do.
Not wanting to look more pathetic than I know I already do, I turn away and head back inside. I put my head down and avoid eye contact with the photographers, but one steps right in front of me, blinding me with the flash of his camera.
“Owen! Is this the same woman from last night?”
“Is this serious?” Another one from behind me yells.
I stare blankly in his direction and maneuver around him, staying silent.
Fuck.
After reading Lis’ article this morning, I knew something was brewing, and I knew it wasn’t good. But now, it sounds like they’re starting to put pieces of the night together—the wedding, Mira, Carol, and Carl, me leaving abruptly, the blonde.
I see it happening right before my eyes.
We might already be fucked.
For a brief second, I think about turning around and chasing after Mira. What’s the point of letting her go, if we’re already caught with our hands dirty? But I know that’ll make a bigger scene and add to the speculation.
So, I continue forward, making my way through the cesspool and towards the elevators.
I still can’t figure out how this happened. How—out of all the fucking people there last night—did I wind up seconds away from fucking my niece?
Sorry, correction—step-niece. That’s important to remember.
And why in the hell does she have to be so damn hot? And why does she have to keep fucking taunting me?
Entering the elevator, I punch the button for my penthouse and lean back against the steel walls. Adding to this dirty fucking mess I’m already in, I’m hard—too hard. That almost kiss Mira left me with has my dick stiff as a fucking rod.
I know this is wrong, and everything around us will come crumbling down if I let my dick win, but there’s nothing wrong with imagining it.
Right?
No one gets hurt if let my mind wonder a bit. Envisioning what I’ve been wanting to do to her—fill her body with my dick and pound into her until I see her gasping and begging for me.
Fuck me.
She makes me hornier than usual.
It’s to a level that’s almost painful. Having to restrain myself from not pouncing on her in the backseat of the limo was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.