Found (Lost and Found #2, New Adult Romance) (Lost & Found) Page 2

  I leap up into his arms and he catches me, pulling me in as my momentum carries me around him in a spin. His arms are strong and warm as he holds me, and I joyfully press my cheek to his. It hasn’t even been two days, but I still missed him as if I hadn’t seen him in months.

  His smile melts my heart and full books of emotion pass silently between us as we embrace. There’s plenty of time for words later, but right now, what I want is to kiss him. I lean in and brush my lips lightly against his, inviting him to join me, and he gladly accepts and presses his lips to mine with a passion that steals my breath.

  Owen caresses my cheek with his good hand as he pulls me close. I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but as his chest presses against mine, I think I feel his heart pounding, He’s holding me so tightly that I can barely breathe and I don’t care one bit. My legs start to tremble as our kiss runs deeper and deeper. God, I love him. I don’t know how we ended up together, but I’m so glad we did. Being with him is everything I never knew I wanted.

  We finally break away from the kiss and gasp for air as we cling to each other. My heart races and I almost feel lightheaded as indescribably beautiful feelings course through my body. Owen nuzzles my cheek as I lay my head on his shoulder. A heavenly euphoria settles in my mind, telling me that everything is going to be okay now. This is how my life should be. No more fears, no more nightmares, just Owen and me.

  His love is all I need to grow.

  “Hi sweetie,” I whisper, still weak-kneed from the kiss and leaning into him for support. It’s definitely his heartbeat I’m feeling; I know it is.

  He runs his fingers softly through my hair and kisses me once more before quietly answering.

  “Hi Maria. I missed you.”

  So few words and yet so much meaning. I could stand here in his arms forever, savoring his warmth.

  “I missed you too,” I whisper back, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it gently.

  He adjusts the sleeve of his coat to cover his cast, and then hand in hand, we start down the steep, crumbling stone staircase into the gorge. The stairway winds back and forth down to the bottom, and I shiver as the waterfall’s cold mist chills my skin. Owen pulls me close to him to keep me warm as we pass through the mist, and then I stop on the other side to pull my coat out of my backpack.

  “Are you ready for the career fair?” he asks after a long silence. It starts in two days and he knows I’ve been worrying about it.

  “I’m as ready as I’m going to be, I think,” I answer, staring up at the single, fluffy white cloud floating in the clear blue above us.

  Academically speaking, I’m more than ready. That’s never been the problem. The big question mark for me has always how well I’ll hold up during the interviews. A dark terror flickers to life inside me at the thought of faceless men in suits staring at me, evaluating me, dissecting me like I’m their personal science-fair project, but I quickly shove it aside and focus on Owen instead.

  “How about you? Are you going to it?” I ask.

  “I’ll try to stop by for a little bit at least,” he replies. “I had my first interview for my grad program during lunch today, and if I get picked for a second round interview, it’s probably going to conflict with the career fair.”

  “Ooh! How’d it go?” I ask excitedly. My mind is all over the place today and I forgot about both his and Tina’s interviews.

  “It went well enough,” he answers, and then he releases my hand and hops from stone to stone across the ice-cold stream. I follow behind him, going a little more slowly to make sure my textbooks don’t end up in the water, and he catches me on the other side with strong arms and a warm smile before we continue both our walk and the conversation.

  “So yeah, it was pretty good,” he continues. “It was just the basic background stuff. Academic goals, talking about my major, my research interests... you know the deal.”

  We both drift into silence as we continue along the gray slate path toward our apartment complex, and I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking right now.

  “What if I get a job offer somewhere far away? What if he doesn’t get into grad school and I do?”

  I don’t want to be apart from him. Now that I’ve found him, I can’t bear the idea of losing him like that. Even thinking about it hurts me, so I can’t imagine how horrible it’ll feel if it actually happens.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispers as if reading my mind. “We’re not going to be apart. I know it.”

  “How do you know that?” I ask as we reach the staircase leading out of the gorge and up to the back end of our apartment complex. “Hiding psychic powers from me?”

  “I just do,” he whispers, flashing me a smile that makes me want to melt into him. God, I hope he’s right.

  The staircase ends at the slanted sidewalk running past my apartment, but as I turn toward my front door, Owen grabs my hand.

  “Why don’t you let me make us dinner tonight? You fed me for like two weeks straight. It’s about time I started paying it back.”

  I smile at him but shake my head.

  “I’d love it, but can you afford to be making me dinner?” I ask. “You’re still paying for that arm, right?”

  He looks down at the cast on his right arm and then back up at me, grinning.

  “One more week,” he says. “The doctor says I’ve got one week left and then I’m rid of this thing.”

  “Doesn’t quite answer my question,” I tell him, winking. He laughs and nods.

  “Yes, Maria, I can afford it. Honest.”

  “Then I accept,” I whisper. I smile warmly at him and let him reel me back in to his side again, and we continue straight past my apartment and up the stairs to his.

  ––––––––

  Owen’s apartment is cold and empty when we get there, and I toss my backpack onto the dining room table with a thud he waters the plants on the kitchen windowsill. His little window garden isn’t much to look at—mostly scraggly vines and a few pots of wildflowers—but he’s proud of it. He spent most of his life struggling to grow, so seeing his garden thrive must help him feel, somehow, like everything worked out in the end.

  “Where’s Craig?” I ask, following Owen up the stairs after he finishes with his plants.

  “Oh, probably at office hours right now and then being a total lush later,” he answers, looking back at me over his shoulder. “Tina invited me to come out to Pixel with them, but there’s no way I’m going barhopping on a Monday night.”

  I laugh and shake my head. Tina didn’t invite me, but she knows better than to waste the effort on a weeknight. I’m not big on bars in the first place, let alone when I have early classes the next day.

  I carefully pinch the neck of an empty beer bottle from Owen’s nightstand between two fingers and toss it into the garbage can while Owen sits down on his bed and starts unpacking his backpack. Professor Meador must’ve given up on waiting for his hand to heal, judging by the ungodly pile of papers he needs to grade. The sun comes out from behind a cloud and shines through the bedroom window, framing Owen in a brilliant square of sunlight as he sits on the bed. The way the sun lights up his face makes him so handsome that it’s almost unbearable.

  “So... no Tina or Craig until late tonight?” I ask, sitting down beside him. Something beautiful and intoxicating flickers to life in my mind as I slowly put my arm around his waist. It whispers delicious and terrifying ideas to me, begging me, demanding me to act on the urges suddenly growing inside me.

  “No, probably not. Why?”

  “Then dinner can wait,” I whisper, and I push him down on the bed.

  My mouth crashes into his in a passionate kiss so intense, so full of longing, that even I’m surprised. Our eyes meet and I feel as if I’m being drawn into his gaze. I could stare into those beautiful gray eyes forever. An incredible, fiery desire erupts inside me and wrests control from my mind, giving it to my body instead.

  My lips find his again, tasting him, tel
ling him with their burning touch all the desires that I couldn’t possibly find words for. I need him. I need him right now. His arms are around me before I realize it, and he pulls me down against him.

  I can feel how excited he is, and somehow, knowing that I have this effect on him makes my mind sing in delight and throws even more kindling onto my fire. I couldn’t do this with anyone but him. The idea is unimaginable and almost terrifying to me. How am I even here? How did I rise from the ashes like this?

  I straddle Owen, being careful not to hit his cast, and I lean in for another kiss. Soon his cast will be gone, and with it, so will the past. I pull the comforter at the foot of the bed up and over my head as I kiss him, and between the heavy blanket covering us and Owen’s hands running up my back, my body feels like it’s on fire. I’d get rid of the blanket, but it isn’t for me—it’s for him, to hide his scars.

  “Can I take off your shirt?” I whisper in his ear, nibbling playfully on his earlobe as he holds me close. I’m sure he’ll say yes, but I know how sensitive he is about his scars. It’s only right that I ask, and I’m stunned at the longing I hear in my own voice. I never dreamed that someone could affect me like this. I want to share myself with him, to explore his love in a way I never dreamed I’d be able to.

  He nods nervously, and I kiss him as gently and lovingly as I can. I want him to feel comfortable with me. I want him to be able to trust me, to be able to relax and enjoy being with me.

  “You don’t have to take it off if you don’t want to,” I whisper, “but I love every last bit of you, even your scars.”

  “I don’t deserve you,” he whispers back, and he gently takes my hand in his and lowers it to the hem of his shirt.

  “Yes, you do,” I tell him, planting my lips onto his as I slowly lift up his shirt, only releasing him from the kiss when his shirt reaches shoulders. “You deserve more than I can ever give you.”

  He pulls his shirt the rest of the way up and over his head, and then he tosses it down somewhere outside our blanket cocoon as I run my hands down his chest. I don’t care how many scars he has. They’re a part of him and so are the countless horrible ways he received them. Someday, I want to know the stories behind all of them, like he knows the story behind my scars.

  His hands find my breasts through my brown tee shirt as I press myself against him, and his touch is like electricity to me. How he does this to me even with one hand in a cast is beyond me. His touch clouds my mind and sends incredible, indescribable feelings coursing through me. I feel like I’m floating outside myself, watching my overpowering feelings for him spill out. I love him more than I can even describe, and that’s why I’m so happy that I can be like this with him—that I can show him the love that I’ll never find words for.

  He kisses me softly and slips his fingers beneath the hem of my tee shirt, looking up into my eyes inquiringly. I nod to him, my mind and body too excited even to think about objecting, and he slowly lifts my shirt up.

  “You still doing okay, Maria?” he whispers as my shirt comes off. I nod excitedly and brush away a hair clinging to my face. I’m more than okay—I’m so turned on that I’m starting to sweat.

  “I couldn’t be better,” I answer, drawing in a sharp breath as he shifts his weight on the bed, reminding me through both our pairs of jeans just how excited I’m making him.

  “Don’t let me do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” says Owen, and his voice so low and full of desire that it only makes me want him even more. I’m more comfortable with him than I ever imagined I could be with someone. I kiss him so hard and with such fervor that I almost bite him by accident.

  I love kissing him, feeling his body against mine, feeling the love and care radiating from him... I could do anything with him and it’d be okay tonight. He helped me get past the nightmares and start to recover. All my good memories of the new me—the Maria who owns her body and can live her own life—are with him. I’d do anything for him now.

  I’m whole when I’m with him.

  My mind is so clouded with desire that I’m not certain when, exactly, my jeans came off. They’re at the foot of the bed and I don’t care at all. I can hardly remember to breathe, let alone worry about pants I was going to take off anyway. Every breath comes in a sharp, almost panicked gasp as my body finds its own rhythm, rocking slowly against him as I kiss him with more emotion than I knew I had inside me. The feeling of his body against mine, his hands touching me and finding all the right spots, is so wonderfully intimate that I can barely think straight.

  Darren can’t hurt me when I’m with Owen. I’m not scared anymore.

  “I love you, Owen,” I whisper.

  “I love you too, Maria,” he whispers back, and he kisses me again as my heart does a cartwheel.

  I catch his good hand in mine and slowly guide it up my side and around to my back, holding back a shiver as his fingers brush delicately against my skin. I place it upon the clasp of my bra and then let go. He knows what I want him to do next. The bra falls away my back and hangs loosely from my shoulders, and I smile tenderly at Owen as I let the thin, sheer fabric slide slowly down my body. His eyes are wide and filled with longing. My mind should be screaming in terror as he rolls me over on the bed and kisses my breasts, but instead it’s singing in ecstasy.

  His fingers brush against me through my underwear, first softly and then with greater and greater pressure, and my hips instinctively roll with him to match the motion of his fingers as an incomparable feeling of ecstasy wells up inside me. My eyes roll back in my head and I groan in pleasure as his touch sets me on fire. I want to cry out in delight but all that comes out is a delicate, delighted whimper.

  “I want you,” I gasp, clutching at him and trying not to lose it completely as he leans down, kisses me softly on the neck, and then slides his hand down beneath my underwear. His fingers move down, down, closer and closer, and then he finally touches me. The feeling of his fingers against me is more than I can handle. I’m so sensitive that I can barely breathe, and I writhe uncontrollably and claw at the sheets as he drives me wild.

  “I’ll be right back,” he whispers, and he plants a playful, ticklish kiss on my neck before ducking out from under the blankets and leaving me gasping for air and giggling with delight. I listen excitedly to the sound of his jeans falling to the floor outside the blanket, imagining him undressing, baring his slim, scarred and yet somehow still perfect body, and driving myself crazy with desire while he’s gone.

  “You still okay?” he whispers as he lies beside me again, naked except for a condom. As I nod excitedly and run my hands down his smooth chest, he quietly adds, “I want you too, Maria. I want you so much.”

  “I’m yours forever,” I whisper back breathlessly. I don’t know where the words came from, but I know that they’re true. He’s everything I need and everything I want. I tremble in anticipation as he slowly slides my underwear down my legs and lets it drop to the floor somewhere outside the warm dome of our blanket.

  I’m still a little scared, but it’s easier this time and doesn’t hurt as much. I feel like I’m burning up from desire, and the sheets cling to my skin from sweat as he eases into me, caressing my face and kissing me gently the entire way. I pull Owen’s face to mine and kiss him, sharing my passion in a desperate, muffled moan as powerful feelings build up inside my body, and my mind soars higher and higher.

  Owen’s fingers entwine with mine and the room falls away around us. None of our fears exist when we’re together. Nothing does. We’re all that’s left of the world, and together, we don’t need anything else.

  I’m so glad we finally found each other.

  ––––––––

  “So when were you planning on telling me that you could cook like this?” I ask as I rinse my plate. Steam rises from the sink and clouds the kitchen window, trickling down in long, winding streaks toward Owen’s windowsill garden.

  “As soon as I was sure you liked my cooking,” Owen answers, and
he kisses me softly on the cheek as he passes to put away a pot. “It’s not exactly anything fancy, though.”

  “Are you kidding me? It was fantastic! I might never eat at home again.”

  Owen made baked ziti with a thick, tangy vodka sauce, tiny shrimp, and enough melted mozzarella to choke a camel. If camels were inclined to eat mozzarella cheese, I mean. The meal was deliciously decadent already, and then he brought out the cannoli for dessert.

  “Well, I’m glad you liked it. I wanted to do something nice for you for once instead of always mooching off of you and Tina.”

  I finish rinsing a glass, put it down on the counter next to the sink and then turn to him.

  “You weren’t mooching off of me,” I tell him, putting my hands on my hips. “You couldn’t afford food because of medical bills. What was I supposed to do? Let you starve?”

  “Just because I hurt myself doesn’t mean that I deserve...”

  I cut him off with a kiss before he can take the conversation down that path. I can’t believe his father hurt him like this. His father made him believe that he’s worthless, that he doesn’t deserve even the simplest things like food... that he doesn’t deserve to be loved. He deserves more and better than I’ll ever be able to give him, but at least this kiss is a start.

  I put my arms around him both out of desire and also to keep him from backing away from me. He stiffens as I run my hands up his back but I don’t let go of him. Tonight is for us, not for his horrible father. I’m not letting those memories ruin the evening for him. He finally relaxes and puts his arms around me, returning my kiss.

  “You’re amazing,” I whisper when our lips separate again, and I softly run my fingers through his hair. “You really are.”

  Owen smiles radiantly back at me, almost blushing from my affection. He’s not used to feeling like anyone loves him, is he? I kiss him again just to drive the point home.

  “If you feel like you need to make it up to me for feeding you,” I say, winking at him, “you can always pay me back in dances.”