I apologize for the delay and appreciate readers' understanding - it's been a wild week. Thanks for the continued support.
Claire had never slept so soundly. Just like in the infirmary, it took a few moments to fully regain her senses when she awoke. Then, it hit her like a ton of bricks. If the ton of bricks was a furnace-hot mass of naked, firm muscles cocooning her and smelling of sex. She more than liked waking up to him. She never wanted to wake up any other way. She felt more than muscle at her backside, too. It was emboldening, and she wouldn't let it go to waste.
"Are you awake?" she whispered through a lustful grin.
"Mmm-hmmm," Owen hummed between planting kisses on her shoulder.
"Don't move." Claire was thankfully lying close enough to the edge of the bed to reach into her nightstand drawer. It took a little straining, but she was assisted by his slight push - or rather, poke. He didn't need to be told. He also clearly enjoyed her gasp in response. She passed him the condom and sighed while rocking back against him.
He grunted and said in a low voice, "The things you do to me." His hands caressed her skin possessively. When one hand dipped between her legs, she gasped again. "The things I'm going to do to you." His mere presence made her wet. His fingers threatened to turn her into a puddle.
"Bury yourself in me," she moaned, her voice thick with need. Claire closed her eyes, deferring to her other senses as she felt overloaded with yearning. She was very quickly over-filled as well. She bit down hard on her lip to prevent a scream from escaping her throat. She didn't want him to misconstrue it as pain. He was just so big and pushing deep into her slick folds. The shock subsided, and the only sensation was pleasure. Pure. Raw. Greater than anything before this moment - difficult to fathom after their phenomenal first time! Her pulse pounded at the idea that they would continue to get better and better together. She rocked her hips harder against him.
"Fuck, Claire. This is good." One of his hands traveled to her breast while the other maintained its grasp on her hip for leverage. His hold was firm but tender. His breathing steadily harsher. She reached back to run her nails across his scalp and tug his hair lightly.
"Better than good," she choked out. "Fantastic." At that, he picked up his pace and moved his hand down her body. He was more than fantastic. His touch was almost - dare she believe it - loving. She had no basis for comparison. Before she could ponder it further, his fingers were rolling her clit, and her head fell backward. Her mind emptied. Primal desire consumed her. They climaxed and tumbled down together. Claire felt as if she was seeing stars, yet it had nothing to do with her head injury.
Owen pulled her flush against him and whispered gruffly into her ear, "Mine." She never thought she'd enjoy being conquered by someone, but she couldn't deny his complete possession. Or her satisfaction with it. The things he did to her, indeed.
"Yours," she panted. His head dropped onto her shoulder, so she leaned hers against it. She was desperate to look into his eyes. Kiss his lips. She missed seeing the ecstasy on his face. Her effect on him.
After catching his breath, he asked, "Did I hurt you?" She began to roll over and whimpered at the loss of him from inside her. It was almost like losing her own limb. Was she really feeling that strongly about him? She blushed at the thought. Maybe she had just been that hard up. When she finally saw him smiling down on her, the blush spread throughout her entire body. It wasn't just her post-orgasm state. Owen stirred something profound in her. She didn't want to overthink it. Not right now, at least. Their moment was too perfect. He looked at her expectantly. She forgot that he'd asked her a question.
"No," replied Claire, stroking his cheek. "Far from it." He visibly relaxed and gently kissed her black eye before kissing her lips.
"My dad gave my mom a shiner once," Owen spoke with an earnest expression and pain in his eyes. "Only once. I never forgot his face when he looked at her the next morning. It taught me the meaning of remorse."
"I'm sorry, Owen. When I said I blamed you for my accident, I didn't mean-"
"I know, Claire. Just telling you where my mind goes." The pain in his eyes melted away. What replaced it was arresting. Breathtaking. Something else she didn't think she deserved. "I don't ever want to hurt you. You deserve to be worshipped." She expected him to kiss her, but he just continued to gaze at her. It surprisingly didn't make her self-conscious. She considered whether this was even better than the sex.
He quickly pecked her lips before hopping out of bed to dispose of the spent condom. She took a deep breath and pulled the bedsheet over herself as she laid on her back. She had an excuse not to work today but wouldn't be presumptuous about his schedule. It didn't stop her from daydreaming about what they could do with their time. "Where's my competition?" asked Owen, startling her. He wore a playful grin and gave side-eye to her nightstand.
Claire couldn't control her turning bright red and stuttered, "What?" She hoped he didn't mean what she thought he meant. He quirked a brow. She was mortified. He moved to open the same drawer where she kept the condoms. "No!" She lunged for him awkwardly while trying to keep the bedsheet around her. She didn't make it in time. Owen clicked his tongue as he picked up the pink vibrator with the rabbit head clitoral stimulator. She could tell that he was suppressing laughter.
"I bet this does take care of you 'just fine'," he teasingly parroted her words from their last conversation in her office. "It gives new meaning to 'doing it like rabbits.'" His laughter burst out. Claire wanted to hit him. Her eyes narrowed. He stopped laughing and cleared his throat. His expression shifted, and she recognized his wanton stare. As he put the vibrator back in the drawer, he pulled out a fresh condom. "You're not going to need that anymore." He gave new meaning to the phrase "bedroom voice." She wasn't going down easy, however.
"I don't know," she taunted. "It's been in my life for a long time and always reliable."
"Oh, I'm reliable," replied Owen, moving stealthily towards her across the bed.
"You'll need to prove yourself." She was holding herself together by a single thread of self-control. He stopped short of kissing her and simply rubbed his nose against hers. She held her breath.
"In the meantime..." He smiled devilishly then caught her off guard by passing her the condom. The moment his hands were empty, he lifted her body free of the sheet and sat her astride him. Her heart raced. Her head spun. Playtime was over. He put his hands behind his head and licked his lips. "Have your way with me, gorgeous."
Owen went to the paddock for several hours while Claire napped. She wasn't exactly sure if she slept. It was a perpetual, dream-like state of replaying their sexual escapades in her mind. She had her way with him alright - even giving him a taste of his own medicine by slowly planting gentle kisses on his jiu-jitsu bruises and "battle scars." Their connection in the bedroom was harmonious. She didn't want to leave the mattress, for fear of losing any piece of that connection to him. She intermittently giggled about her reluctance to sleep with him. Maybe it made it better. Sweeter.
Claire wondered if it felt as earth-shattering to him as it did to her. She could tell that he was holding himself back because of her injuries. She didn't want to be insecure about it. She ultimately decided that it meant they'd have a rich sex life. They could be satisfied doing it in all sorts of ways. She still couldn't get over how good they were together. Her sexual history must've been a novella compared to his encyclopedia, but they were somehow well-matched.
When Owen returned, he brought Sunrio carry-out, a DVD, and an overnight bag. Claire was over the moon. She wasn't even the least bit off-put by his presumptuousness. She wanted to wake up in his arms again. That, and she had already postponed the inevitable by telling by Zara that she needed one more day to "rest." Zara, as always, was very perceptive and wished her boss a "glorious day of shagging." Claire craved a fantasy Sunday with Owen before returning to the reality of work. This prioritization of a man over her job would have been incomprehensible to her a week ago, but their astounding sexual chemistry overrode all else in that moment. Part of her also recognized that their connection was far from superficial.
Owen looked supremely happy as he strode into her kitchen. No conflict apparent whatsoever. There was something light and carefree in his demeanor that she'd never witnessed before. She felt responsible. It made her supremely happy - better yet, if she was being totally honest, blessed. He greeted her with the most delicious kiss of her life. His hands still held her gently, but his tongue was aggressive. He pulled away to look at her. Those flecks of green and gold had the power to transform her into a puddle, too. Yes, she definitely felt worshipped. Like a priceless treasure he'd uncovered after a long, perilous journey. She hoped that wasn't just a projection of her own feelings.
Claire assembled the place settings while Owen started unpacking the bag of food. "How did you know what to get?" she asked with surprise. The staff at Sunrio brought dinner to her office about once a week, and she always ordered the fish tacos. It was special treatment because the restaurant didn't advertise a delivery option. Owen stood behind her at the kitchen counter and put his arms around her waist. "Zara?"
"She recommended it," he whispered, "but the manager knew your 'usual.'" He nuzzled her hair and inhaled deeply. "Even gave it to me gratis because of your accident." Claire tensed, and Owen kissed her cheek. "Everyone's wishing you a speedy recovery."
"Everyone knows?" she asked hesitantly. As the question popped out, she realized that it didn't only apply to her accident. She was suddenly very curious if, in the last 48 hours, word had spread about the two of them.
"You're ubiquitous - of course people know when you're MIA. It's also a pretty dramatic event to happen to any park employee." He paused. "And some people know about us. Mostly, it's my staff...and the manager at Sunrio." Claire turned around to look at him, and he was grinning ear-to-ear. It was the kind of glee that's tough to hide. It made her knees weak. She hugged him tightly and inhaled his scent deeply.
Owen did most of the talking over dinner. Claire was content to listen and avoid thinking about her own worries. He related that the raptors were getting increasingly defiant with Barry. Barry joined Project IBRIS after the critical imprinting period and had yet to develop a deep bond with the pack. Owen knew that the girls would never follow commands from Barry like they did from him, but he worried that they didn't respect and would perpetually challenge Barry. Oftentimes, Barry was a glorified - and clearly disheartened - assistant rather than a co-trainer. Owen's face betrayed a sense of defeat. His concerns went beyond Barry. He recognized how smart the raptors were becoming and verbalized a fear that they would reach a point of not being direct-able at all.
"When I'm there, at least, they listen," he said.
"Don't just feed into their bullshit," Claire interjected astutely. Owen gave her an annoyed look. She didn't back down. "They won't learn to respect someone else if you're always stepping in."
"I raised them," he spat back defensively. "I know them the best."
"That won't change if you allow Barry more leeway. You'll still be the Alpha."
"You think I'm threatened by Barry?" He scoffed.
"No." Claire's eyes slitted. "But if you're already convinced that they'll never listen to anyone else, you're setting yourself and the research project up for disaster." He clearly wanted to protest, but she was right. His lips pursed. A warm smile spread across her face. She added in a teasing tone, "Besides, you'd end up being at the paddock all the time."
Owen softened and smirked, "Says the woman who goes into her office and the control floor every day." Her face scrunched up in response. They stared at each other in silence for a beat.
"I understand feeling like you can't delegate," she eventually sighed. "I'm guilty of that, for sure, but..." Her voice trailed off as she took hold of one of his hands. "There's more to life than being a workaholic." He raised his eyebrows at her. She was startled by this admission herself, but it felt right. Everything felt right in that moment. She smiled at him and shrugged. "You do things to me."
They settled onto the sofa with the DVD that Owen brought: On the Waterfront. It was another classic film that Claire had heard of but never seen. Owen commented on his continuing to open her world to new things. She was delighted to discover that it was Eva Marie Saint's first role, as Edie. Owen said he picked it for that reason. Claire had been quite taken with the actress after North by Northwest. While they watched the leads falling in love, Claire was struck by the parallels to her own relationship. She laughed when Marlon Brando's character, Terry, told Edie, "I'm not gonna bite you." She pulled up to kiss Owen after Edie said of Terry, "He tries to act tough, but there's a look in his eye."
Claire was significantly more relaxed this time around compared to their last movie. She didn't jump or blurt out her responses to the action. She let Owen put his hands wherever he wanted without flinching or pulling back in the slightest. He hummed in satisfaction as he reached into her camisole to play with her breast. She parried by slipping her hand down the front of his pants. He flinched as she stroked him over his briefs. He let out a guttural moan and teased, "We are definitely doing it after this movie. It's not a maybe."
At the end of the film, Owen adjusted their bodies on the sofa much more gently than he had done on their first movie night. Gone was his sense of urgency that had loomed like an oppressive shadow the previous night. Claire's anxiety was also nowhere to be found. He cupped her face with both hands before starting to kiss her. They had already worked each other up, so it was Claire who felt ready to push harder. She kissed him back more roughly than ever. Her hands moved under his shirt to touch him and make an attempt to pull off the garment. He laughed a little into her mouth.
"So eager," he teased.
"Maybe," she taunted him in response. With that, he picked her up and carried her bridal style into the bedroom. She felt him shuddering as she kissed his neck and trailed her hands wherever on his body they could reach. "I don't know where my feet are anymore," she whispered, referencing a line from On the Waterfront.
"You're floating," Owen whispered back. "Just like me."
"Do you really have to go to work today?" groaned Claire, tracing a scar on Owen's arm while lying on his chest. "Let Barry be in charge today."
"I'll give Barry more 'leeway,'" he replied, "but I still have to go to the paddock. Not everyone is on sick leave." She let out a heavy sigh.
"You're not allowed to get any more of these." She planted a soft kiss on the scar.
"No promises. Hazard of the job." He rolled their bodies to kiss her on the lips. "You, on the other hand, are not allowed to damage yourself in any way." He ran a hand down her bare back, giving her goosebumps. "Your skin needs to be perfect and unblemished." When he kissed her again, she winced over-dramatically. "What?"
"If you want me to stay unblemished," she teased, "then you need to shave. Your stubble irritates my sensitive skin."
"Fair enough," he laughed. "That means I'll have to spend the night at the bungalow."
Her mouth drooped into an exaggerated pout before she shrugged and said, "Sacrifices." One side of her mouth quirked up. "I could always spend the night with you there."
"Nah," he answered quickly, "you should be comfortable. My place is small and...lacking amenities." He avoided her eyes.
"I can manage. I'm not some stuffy princess."
He stammered, "No, no, that's not what I meant. You're injured and can't drive out there on your own." She wasn't buying his excuses.
"So, you need to clean up your man cave?" Claire dead-panned. "Or is it a 'no women allowed' kind of hideaway?"
"You're allowed." He paused to stroke her cheek. "You just deserve better, especially right now." He kissed her black eye. "It's already starting to fade." Claire gathered that Owen was trying to distract her, but she let it go for now. He would soon be leaving her bed - she wanted the enjoy the time they had left. She snuggled into his seemingly boundless warmth. "When is Dr. Adams seeing you for follow-up?" She reveled in this genuine concern.
"Friday afternoon at the mainland employee clinic."
"Damn, we'll just miss each other." He pulled her close then continued saucily, "You can spend that night at the bungalow, assuming you're medically cleared."
"For what, exactly?" she asked in a playful tone.
"Rough-housing." He smoldered, and Claire felt warm all over.
"You'll have to save some strength after your training then."
"I have plenty of stamina, gorgeous." Owen kissed her fiercely albeit briefly. He hopped out of bed to get dressed, and she admired the view. They'd already discussed his plans to train at the jiu-jitsu studio several evenings this week. He hoped to earn his third, and possibly fourth, stripe very soon. He told her that the black-belted owner of the studio could choose to bestow one or two stripes at a time. She didn't want to discourage Owen or seem unsupportive, but she'd miss him. It bothered her a little bit that she was getting so attached. Fortunately, she knew it was mutual. Unfortunately, the bubble she'd been living in for the past few days was about to burst, in more ways than one.
After his obviously reluctant departure from her apartment - evident by his jumping back into bed with her when he was half-clothed - Claire decided to start catching up on work emails. Several hours went by in a flash as she fell back into her groove. It felt good to be productive, but her main motivation was to avoid feeling clobbered on Monday. Zara stopped by at the end of the day to review key meetings scheduled during the week and to gossip.
"Word has spread like wildfire," Zara related with abundant mirth. "Owen Grady: a taken man." Claire blushed. "Alec heard that he's 'disgustingly smitten.'" Zara looked skeptically at her boss, who just smiled. "You're not bothered by it?"
"Of course I'm not!" Claire blurted out. "He might be, however," she added under her breath. The two women laughed.
"I'm so glad he makes you happy, Claire."
"Let's not jinx it, Zara. It's early days still."
"Fine, have it your way," Zara giggled. "I'll be happy to relinquish the Senior Assets Manager duties back to you tomorrow."
"Do you know anything about the new asset Henry's planning to unveil?"
"He was pretty evasive when I asked about it. He wants to speak directly with you first."
"Just makes me anxious going into the meeting blind. He usually prepares an entire package to review. It's a deviation from his norm."
"Gird your loins then," Zara winked. Claire fully intended to prepare for the worst.
Claire felt rested, refreshed, and ready for anything when she strolled into the lab. After Owen called her to say that he needed to work late, she decided to go to bed early. She'd averaged less sleep when Owen stayed the night, being otherwise occupied in bed. Upon setting foot in Henry's office, her readiness was immediately put to the test. She was thankful for the extra sleep. Unbeknownst to her or Zara, Vic Hoskins was also in attendance at the meeting. Claire shifted into high alert status and silently considered possible explanations for his inclusion. Hoskins smiled at her in a borderline vulgar way. She rolled her eyes, assuming that he was privy to the latest island gossip.
"I'm surprised to see you, Vic." He merely clicked his tongue and leaned against Henry's desk.
Henry was his usual, arrogant self and ignored the tension. He launched right into his news, "I asked Vic to be here because our newest asset will provide some unique challenges. It's imperative that ACU treat this one with greater care."
"I want you to feel confident that my crew will have everything under control," Vic interjected with condescension in his voice. "You know I've been committed to public safety when it comes to dinosaurs even before I was at InGen." Claire couldn't help rolling her eyes again. Vic never missed an opportunity to brag about how he personally captured the pteranodons that escaped from Isla Sorna in 2001. Claire heard the story more times than she could count, and Vic's description grew more epic with each re-telling. He was the man, the myth, the legend in his own mind. And, likely, of his own making. Only he knew the naked truth. Regardless, the event directly resulted in his hiring by Simon Masrani, and he'd unquestionably proved himself to be a capable head of security in the intervening years.
Claire spoke with deadly sarcasm, "A cuddly herbivore, I'm guessing?"
Henry chuckled as his lips curled into a sly grin, "The furthest from it." Henry passed her a computer-generated schematic of a very dangerous-looking dinosaur. "My first genetically-modified hybrid. It will satisfy all of Mr. Masrani's requests." Claire harkened back to a recent memo Masrani sent, encouraging them to create a new attraction that was "bigger, scarier, louder, and cooler." From the schematic, this new dinosaur certainly fulfilled those criteria with its exaggerated predator features.
"What's in it?" Claire asked frankly.
"The base genome is T. rex, the rest is proprietary." She audibly scoffed at this answer. She was getting warier by the second but needed to keep her emotions close to the vest.
"Do we have behavioral data from Site B?" Much of the knowledge about their existing attractions came by way of observations and reports from Isla Sorna.
"We're planning to raise them exclusively on Nublar," answered Hoskins. "Keep them close, like the raptors." He seemed to bite his tongue. Claire carefully watched the nonverbals between the two men. She remained as cagey as they were. She still couldn't fathom why Hoskins needed to be present for this conversation.
"At least we already had data on the raptors," she countered. "Why are they comparable to this hybrid?" Both men were silent. She knew exactly what to say. Owen had taught her to respect the animals and altered her perspective on the island. "We need a lead handler who's a behaviorist. For insurance."
"How about Owen, then?" Hoskins spoke quickly and reflexively. The way he grinned, she couldn't tell if he was joking. He was trying to get a rise of her, regardless. Claire adopted a steely-eyed gaze.
"No. He's the raptors' Alpha. Project IBRIS can't lose him. Handling these hybrids would be a full-time job."
"We need them hatched as soon as possible," Henry spoke up and brushed off her concern. "Mr. Masrani doesn't want this new attraction delayed. There's no time to find someone qualified by the imprinting period." He and Hoskins exchanged an odd look. Claire needed to think fast. Something not-above-board was going on, but it was only a hunch. She'd need concrete evidence. She needed a behaviorist, without question.
"Barry," she suggested firmly. "He doesn't have the same relationship with the raptors, so he could shift. He'll be missed at the raptor paddock, but you can hire a replacement there more easily than fill a de novo position with an unpredictable animal." Henry seemed to take notice of her word choice - they were no longer just assets to her - and she could see the gears turning in Hoskins' head. Hoskins knew she was right.
"Clever," Henry snipped. "But what if Barry won't agree to shift?"
"I think he'll do it." Claire wore her best poker face. After her conversation with Owen on Saturday night, she was confident Barry would go for this opportunity.
A sort of cliffhanger - I'm starting to really enjoy writing them! Let me know what you think of this one and if you were satisfied with the fluff and smut...in the absence of angst ;)