What Comes Next: Think About It Always

Summary: Allie travels to LA, and she and Owen attend his work dinner.

Note: Set after Right Here (NSFW).

After she books her flight to L.A., Allie decides the trip and Owen’s work function warrant buying a new dress. It’s not that she doesn’t have dresses that would work; she does, but she wants something new, something different.

Mel begs her to wait to buy one until she gets to L.A.

“You hate shopping,” Allie reminds her, pulling up her favorite designers online while they talk.

“For me, yeah. Watching you spend money is fun,” Mel replies.

Allie rolls her eyes but laughs. “Fine. I’ll wait.”

She’s on the phone with Owen later that night, still looking at dresses, then switches to looking at hotels.

“This one has an in room jacuzzi,” she reads off. “Oh! And a Starbucks right in the hotel. Sold.”

Owen laughs. “You have a problem.”

They chat a little longer, and then Owen casually says, “You know, if you wanted…you could just stay with me.”

She’s so stunned that all she can do is blurt out, “Oh! I…yeah. I could.”

“Only if you want,” Owen says hurriedly.

There’s an awkward silence for a few seconds, and then Allie laughs softly. “This is silly.”

“It is,” he says with a laugh. “Allie. Stay with me?”

“Yes,” she agrees readily, and then, because she’s so happy and a little giddy at the thought of falling asleep next to him and waking up next to him, she says, “You’re taking the couch, right? I want the bed.”

Owen laughs again. “Funny, Al.”

“I’m kidding,” she says. “I want…”

Her brain flashes back to waking up with his arms around her. “I want to wake up next to you,” she confesses.

“Me too, Al. God, me too.”

The desire and want in his voice makes her ache.

A few days before she flies out, Owen suggests staying overnight in the hotel where his work dinner is being held, since it’s nowhere near his apartment.

“I don’t know…is there a coffee shop in it?” Allie teases him.

“No,” Owen laughs. “But there’s one nearby.”

“Hmm. I guess I can make that work,” she says.

~~~~~~~~~~

Allie flies in to LAX the morning of Owen’s work event, and Mel picks her up.

“You are way too excited about going shopping,” Allie says.

Mel is half-giddy, zipping around people she deems are driving like assholes and ignoring a few angry horns and gestures sent their way.

“I see your driving skills are still horrifying,” Allie says.

Mel shrugs. “We have places to be.”

At the first store, Mel somehow manages to find a dress that is possibly the smallest thing Allie has ever seen.

“Melanie. This is a formal event,” Allie says patiently.

She raises her eyebrows at the dress Mel holds up next.

“What? This is black. It’s lacy. It will show off your legs. It’s perfect,” Mel argues.

“Flashing everyone my ass is not formal,” Allie replies.

Mel sighs dramatically. “Fine.”

Allie vetoes the next dress (“I don’t really want everyone there to possibly see my nipples”) and the next one (“It’s see through, Mel”). She finally finds one, in a midnight blue that she loves. It’s just short enough, she decides, to possibly drive Owen a little crazy, but long enough to be formal and appropriate.

Mel just smirks when Allie buys it.

“What’s so funny?” Allie asks as they walk out.

“Oh, nothing. But I’ll bet you twenty bucks you and Owen are late to this dinner.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Mel drops her off at Owen’s apartment, cheerfully shouting that Allie can pay her tomorrow when she and Owen are inevitably late.

Allie buzzes up to his apartment, and he meets her at his apartment door. She knows she has the biggest smile on her face, but she doesn’t care too much, because he does too. Owen’s hands burrow into her hair, hers going around his neck, and he kisses her deeply, again and again.

“Hi,” she murmurs in between kisses.

Owen smiles. “Hi.”

Bringing her suitcase into his bedroom and using his shower puts butterflies in her stomach. It’s comfortable and feels domestic, but everything is still so new that every brush of his lips over hers, and his breath on her neck when he zips her dress up, sends a little thrill through her.

Owen stares at her when she’s dressed and slips her heels on.

“God, Al,” he says in a low voice. “You’re incredible.”

Allie is acutely aware of her racing heart, her shallow breaths, as she stares at him too. The top two buttons of his white dress shirt are undone. He smells fantastic. He’s wearing his glasses. His stubble pleasantly scratches her skin when she kisses him.

“Not fair,” Allie sighs against his mouth.

“What’s not fair?”

“You’re wearing your glasses.”

Owen smiles, touching his thumb to her lips. “My eyes are dry.”

He tilts his head down and kisses her again, careful not to smudge her lipstick.

“Liar,” she murmurs, and Owen laughs.

They’re on time to the dinner, partly, Allie thinks, because she told Owen about Mel’s bet, and they’re both determined to prove her wrong.

Owen is right about the catering being fantastic. The hotel the dinner is being held in is beautiful and has a stunning view of the city lights. His coworkers are welcoming and funny, and she’s struck by how effortless it is, being here with him. There are no forced conversations full of condescending remarks, and no worrying if people are deciding she’s not worthy to be there.

Allie loves watching him in his element, confident and at ease while he talks to his company’s new clients. She’s warm and happy as the evening progresses, both from the company and the easiness of it all, and probably a little bit from the champagne she’s been sipping on. Owen’s arm feels good wrapped around her waist, his fingers squeezing her side every so often, while they circulate the room and he introduces her.

He catches her staring at him for a little too long at one point and looks at her curiously. “What?”

“Nothing. I just like watching you like this,” she explains.

Owen laughs. “Talking engineering?”

“Yeah. Well, that and the suit and the glasses,” she adds under her breath.

His fingers tighten against her side, and he pulls her in a little closer.

“Allie,” he murmurs.

She sips her champagne, smiling at him innocently. “What? You’re the one who decided to wear them.”

Owen shakes his head, a wry smile on his face. “So I did.”

After dinner ends and everyone starts leaving, Owen slips his hand into Allie’s.

“You ready?” he asks, inclining his head toward the elevators.

She swears the ride to their floor takes forever, and that their room is as far away from the elevator as possible. When they finally get inside, and the door has clicked shut behind them, Allie is stunned momentarily by the view of the skyline sprawled out before them.

“Oh wow,” she breathes, standing in front of the windows.

Owen comes up behind her, and she finds herself leaning back against him, sighing when his arms wrap around her and his lips whisper over her neck.

“It’s beautiful here,” Allie murmurs, covering his hands with hers and tilting her head to the side.

“It is,” he agrees, his voice muffled against her skin. “And there’s no snow.”

Allie grins slowly. “I like the snow.”

He turns her in his arms, swaying with her slightly, an amused look on his face. “For reasons I’ll never understand.”

She leans in, brushing her lips over his. “Fireplaces. Hot chocolate. Sweaters. Hot tubs. Cuddling.”

Owen laughs, kissing her deeply. “All things you can still have without snow.”

“Mm,” she hums. “But they’re better with snow.”

Her eyes flicker up to his, and she slides her hands up into his hair, noting the way his head drops forward and his eyes close in pleasure.

“Especially hot tubs,” she murmurs. “And cuddling.”

When he opens his eyes again, they’re nearly black, his pupils dilated. He leans in to kiss her, almost agonizingly slow, his lips teasing over hers. She groans softly when he kisses her harder, one of his hands gliding up her back and hovering over the zipper on her dress.

He slides it down, then turns her again, pushing her hair over one shoulder. Allie shivers at the feel of his lips on the back of her neck, then across the top of her back when he pushes the dress down over her shoulders. Goosebumps erupt across her skin when she slips her arms out of the sleeves and Owen pushes the deep blue fabric down over her hips until it hits the floor.

She cranes her head back, their kiss immediately growing hungry and desperate. Allie turns to face him, wrenching her lips from his to get his suit jacket off and undo the buttons on his shirt. It feels like it takes forever, because he keeps tilting her chin up to kiss her, and his hands keep wandering across her hips and her back.

She protests when he starts walking her backwards to the bed.

“You’re overdressed,” she says, gasping when he gently bites her neck.

Owen’s fingers trace teasingly along the waistband of her underwear.

“So are you,” he replies, inching his fingers lower and making her even more impatient.

“Huh,” she pants. “You’re right.”

He stops just long enough for them to get the rest of their clothing out of the way, then pulls her back in for a dizzying kiss.

“You know there’s a jacuzzi in the bathroom,” he murmurs in her ear.

“Is there?” she asks, distracted by his hands cupping her breasts, then drifting down across her hips, then dipping lower.

“There is,” he confirms.

“Mm,” she whimpers, pressing into him instinctively.

Owen wraps his arms around her waist and walks her backwards into the bathroom, the tile floor cool under their bare feet. He groans softly when she loops her arms around him and presses her lips across his back while he starts the water. She glides one of her hands down his chest, along his stomach, and then lower, sucking in a breath at the way he throbs under her touch when she slowly pumps her hand up and down.

“Allie,” he groans, gently grabbing her wrist. “We’ll never get in the tub if you keep doing that.”

“I don’t care,” she murmurs, and suddenly, she doesn’t.

She’s desperate and wants him, now, doesn’t care about the jacuzzi or anything else but having him.

“Owen,” she barely gets out, can hear the desperation in her voice, and then he’s abruptly shutting the water back off and carrying her to the bed.

They tumble into it, lips meeting over and over again while they shift impatiently. Owen wraps his arm around her back, rolling her to her side so her chest is pressed against his, then lifts her thigh over his hip.

“God, Al,” he groans. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

She exhales shakily, almost overwhelmed with how badly she wants him and needs him. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either.”

His eyes grow impossibly darker, and he shifts and presses into her.

Oh,” Allie moans, gripping his shoulders, her eyes closing briefly.

She buries one of her hands in his hair as they move together, slowly at first. Allie can feel the way he’s trying to keep control, and rolls her hips against his, a silent plea. She gasps as he thrusts into her, hard, and moans with pleasure.

“Yes,” she whispers, the word ending on a sharp inhale, her eyes locking briefly on his in the dimly lit room.

Allie presses herself closer, burrowing against him, her hand tightening in his hair. He lightly bites her shoulder, his fingers digging into her thigh, and she groans at the sensations rolling through her. She squirms against him, desperate for just a little more, a little more friction, a little more of his skin touching hers, a little more of his rapid breaths against her neck.

“Allie,” he grunts out, slamming into her.

She doesn’t catch his next words, consumed with the way he’s making her feel. Her heartbeat becomes a dull roar in her ears, her vision blurring. Owen tilts his hips suddenly, pulling her thigh a little higher over him. She hears him say her name again, a low groan, and then feels his lips brush over her neck and his hand slip between them.

It makes her sob out his name, the feel of him and the way he holds her to him so tightly, her eyes slamming closed and her muscles tensing when they both come apart. For a long moment, she just holds on to him, relishing his solid warmth, the feel of his skin against hers, and the way they fit together.

He tilts her chin up after a few minutes, kissing her slowly. She sighs contentedly, running her fingers through his hair.

“I was going to try and convince you that jacuzzis and hot tubs are still good without snow,” he says, his mouth quirking up in a hint of a smile.

Allie laughs quietly. “You still can,” she points out.

He murmurs an agreement but makes no effort to move right away. Instead, he kisses her again, his hands running lazily up and down her back. When he does eventually go to get up, Allie stops him, nudging him to his back and straddling him. He groans, squeezing her hips.

Allie leans forward, whispering in his ear, “The jacuzzi will still be there in the morning.”

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