This fucking woman. Alexis was giving me everything I had hoped and dreamt of ever since I lost her. To have her back was a blissful illusion I never wanted to wake from.

Chapter 31

ALEXIS

I didn’t know how we got to the ground, sprawled over his picnic rug, but that’s where we ended up, an assortment of stroking limbs and moaned promises as we explored each other again.

Owen tried to keep it PG as he kept his hands firmly on my face or back, never venturing into dangerous territory while he kissed the shit out of me.

That’s not what I wanted. I had waited long enough— four years was long enough. Which is why I did what I did next.

We were lying side by side when I retracted from his embrace. His eyes sparked with panic, which quickly transitioned into pure lust as he watched me. My fingers trailed up my thighs, beneath my skirt, to methodically slip my thong down my legs.

Owen examined my actions with single-minded rapture, licking his lips at my wanton display. He didn’t move an inch, frozen into an inanimate state. Oh, no, that won’t do.

Feeling bold, I chucked my panties to the side and reached for his waistband. Then, I pushed his pants and boxers out of the way until I found what I was searching for. His beautiful shaft throbbed in my palm, all hard and rigid, begging for my caress.

Owen’s rib cage collapsed beneath his shuddering breaths as his eyes lapsed shut. “This isn’t very romantic, Lex. I want to take you out. Wine and dine you. Spoil you. You’re perfect. And I want our first time back together to be perfect.”

“Is this not perfect?” I replied. Owen hissed as my hand massaged his balls. “I don’t care if we’re out in the open, or that we’re on top of your picnic rug. We’re at our spot, Owen. Where we had all our firsts. This is perfect. Touch me, baby… Please.”

That was it. After my panting speech, there was no way he could hold back. And he didn’t. Before I finished my last plea, his hands and lips were back where they always should have been.

The way he held me, the very impression of his fingerprints took me back to another time. The very last time we had made love.

Over the years, I had repeated that scene in my mind, letting it play out to push me through the days where I really felt alone, where I truly missed him.

And now that it was all real, I couldn’t help but give those words life again, connecting us back together in a sense of belonging and healing.