“Hey, don’t talk to him like that. It’s not his fault.” Cheri said, outrage evident in her voice.
Bo faced her. “Keep quiet. I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
How was it, with so few people in the room, there still seemed to be controlled chaos hovering just under their feet.
Cheri.
7
“Calm down, we’ll take them.” Riser took Cheri’s hand in his, raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles in an act of pure possession. Possession that made Bo see red. Christ. What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d never reacted to a woman this way – ever. Where was his calm shell of control?
“Time’s wasting.” Bo bit out when the two lingered.
Riser and Lamont each slipped an arm underneath Arlow’s bulky torso, and Bart hooked his hands around his feet. Bo held the front door open for them and watched as they maneuvered awkwardly down the tall wooden staircase and over to Bart’s police cruiser, Ginger tottering on too-tall heels at the end of the line. He waited until they pulled out of the parking lot before facing Cheri.
She had moved from her spot against the far wall and now stood with her arms crossed underneath her breasts, pushing the limits of the top of her vest. There was a faint flush on her cheeks and her arching, dark red brows creased together. “You didn’t have to be so mean to him.”
Bo made his way to her, watching every nuance of movement, every eyelash flicker. Her chest pulsed; her lips parted. She looked pissed – and sexy as hell. “I expect my orders to be followed. I don’t like repeating myself.”
He didn’t stop until he could smell her spicy, warm scent. Her nostrils flared with awareness. “We don’t work for you.”
Bo offered her a cold smile. “That’s the sweet thing about being sheriff, you don’t have to work for me, but you still have to do what I say.”
Her already light eyes stretched open a little bit further. “Yeah, this is my bar. And I have the right to serve who I want, so why don’t you do what you do best and leave.”
Oh, she could serve him all right, and in so many ways. Although her skimpy outfit didn’t hide very much, Bo wanted to see the rest of her. All of her. Shit. He had no business thinking of those thoughts. Not after tonight’s discovery. He’d be buried up to his elbows and paperwork for a month. “It’s not your bar right now – it’s my crime scene.”
“What crime?”
“Disturbing the peace. Drunk and disorderly.” Bo let his gaze leave hers to scan the damage at the bar. “And if C.W. wants, he can sue for damages.”
“You just sent C.W. away.” Her sarcastic tone had him whipping his head back around.
He backed her against the wall and reveled in the flair of worry his move caused. “That’s right. I did.”
“You know what, Bo? I’m getting sick and tired of the way you treat me and my friends and family.” Cheri planted her hands on his chest and shoved him away.
Bo didn’t budge. God, she infuriated him past the point of boiling. How could this one tiny, curvaceous female push his limits? He’d had RPGs launched at him, cross-hairs trained on his head, and escaped full-fledged gun fights without blinking, but Cheri managed to crawl under his skin and dig in, wearing on his resistance like sand in his sidearm.
“Everything you touch explodes. You can’t even run this bar without me getting called in at least once a month for disturbances.” Bo planted his palms on the wall on each side of her head, caging her in place. “You blatantly ignore the speed limit, and your precious cousin encourages your out-of-control behavior. I don’t like it, not in my town.”
“Leave Lamont out of this. We both know he’s not the problem.” Her tongue darted out and ran across her plump bottom lip.
Christ, even her lips were too much. Big and pouty. Lips made for lovemaking. Except he didn’t make love; he fucked.
“You’re right, he’s not the problem. You are.” A problem he intended to get out of his system ASAP. “But he’s up to something, I can see it in his eyes.”
Maybe if he could just kiss her, he could scare her enough to leave him alone, and get enough of a taste to remove her from his mind. He’d warned her his needs were dark. Apparently, the warning hadn’t been enough.
“Lamont’s a good guy with horrible taste in women, but he’d never do anything to hurt anybody.”
Bo leaned in, savoring her spicy scent and the way her pupils dilated with awareness. “I don’t think he would either. Doesn’t mean he’s not up to something.”
Just like Bo was at this very minute.
“Why don’t you man up and admit the only reason you’re here is you want me?” Damn he liked the breathy tone of her voice, almost as much as knowing he was the reason behind it.
“You think you’ve got me pegged?”
Cheri eyed him from his head to his toes. “It doesn’t take a genius to see what you want.”
Her gaze locked in on his crotch. Blood poured form his brain into his cock in a full-out, unstoppable rush. Even his body turned to chaos around her. Anger made his chest tight and his words harsher than he liked. “You don’t know anything about what I like. If you did, you’d find a way to get this under control.” Bo gestured down her entire body, inwardly cursing himself for noticing every luscious curve.
Cheri’s green eyes darkened with unfiltered rage. “If you could pull your uptight head out of your uptight ass, you’d see how much life you’re missing trying to keep everyone and everything in your life in order.”
“Uptight?” Bo whispered, his voice dropping under the weight of his growing fury.
“Always so worried about stepping outside the lines.” Cheri’s tongue darted out to wet her lips.
She always managed to take every situation and twist it out of control. And damn him, he wanted her anyway.
She made him want to let go and just feel. What the fuck? He didn’t feel anything. He worked. He took care of his town. His job. The law. Feeling things just screwed everything up. He liked his life simple and boring, black and white. His women easy to mold and easier to forget. That’s what he wanted: Cheri to bend just enough to get her the hell out of his mind so they could both get back to their lives.
Fast as lightning, Bo threaded a hand through her hair and held her immobile, moving closer, inch by tortuous inch until his breath fanned across her mouth.
8
Cheri’s entire body trembled from head to toe, her body lit from his words. His mouth. He spoke in a dominant voice, almost condescending, with just enough raw power to back up his implied promise to soak her panties
Her nipples had turned so sensitive even the lukewarm air in the bar chilled her skin into goosebumps. The erotic combination curled her toes in her heels.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t had sex before. No, she’d done it. She’d gotten rid of her virginity like a bad habit in high school; the sex then had been rushed and fumbling. She could still remember her boyfriend’s shaking and insecure touch…definitely not the world changing orgasms she’d read about in her books.
However, she got the distinct feeling sex with Bo would put those books to shame. Not that she’d let him know it. “What are you so afraid of Bo?”
“I’m not afraid of anything, Cheri.” His voice rolled down her body like a dark, erotic caress. “If you want to be with me, you’re gonna have to learn a lesson. You’re not in control, I am.”
Cheri snorted and rolled her eyes. “You sound like my dad. I don’t listen to orders.”
She half expected him to lash out at her; instead, his gaze meandered down her body leisurely, leaving no doubt exactly how wrong he thought her statement was. His lips lifted in a sardonic, half cocky grin. “I doubt your daddy ever put you in a position like this.”
She tried to swallow, but his words depleted her air supply making the feat impossible. No one had ever put her in this position.
“This is how it’s going to go, Cheri. You’re going to do exactly what I say, exactly how I
say it, or I’ll spank that gorgeous ass of yours until it’s red.”
Her heart did a little flip-flop in her chest, and she caught her breath, the erotic image searing through her mind like a hot brand. Cheri tried to yank from his grasp, realizing he’d somehow read her thoughts. Hot embarrassment flooded her body in a flush which spread from her chest upward. He’d topped her and shocked her – and he thought he’d won. But she didn’t roll that way, and she was about to teach Bo a lesson.
She ate domineering men with her Cheerios for breakfast.
“Bo?”
“What?” His voice was a low throaty growl.
“I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be spanked by a man.”
His gaze snapped to hers, flashing with lust. His jaw ticked, the way it always did when he clenched his teeth too hard. “Spanked by a man?”
Apparently, he wanted her to say spanked by him. The image flashed in her mind, and try as she might, she couldn’t think of any man touching her except Bo Lawson. Could he not see how his magnetic force drew her in? “Yes, I’ve always wanted to know what it was like. I’ve read about it in my books, fantasized about it. Does that shock you?”
Bo snatched her to his chest, locked her arms behind her back in one swift movement, and freed one of his hands to squeeze her ass. “If you’ve been reading so much, then you know what comes along with it.” His fingers dug into her flesh, emphasizing his point.
Cheri didn’t bother trying to struggle from his firm grip; there’s no way she’d be able to break free. From the heat sizzling her sex, she was woman enough to admit she didn’t want to. But if he thought a few words were sufficient to make her play his game, he had a hard lesson coming.
“I dreamed about your hands on me,” she said in a husky voice.
His expression darkened, and she continued, “I dreamed about tasting you. Touching you. Feeling you.”
Bo’s pupils dilated turning his blue eyes black. He didn’t give away anything else to let her know how much she affected him. She needed to use more drastic measures. Cheri arched her back, brushing her breasts against his chest, zings of electricity shot straight to her core. It took all of her willpower not to gasp out loud from the intense sensation. She had a goal in mind, which involved her getting horizontal with the sheriff in precisely the way she wanted.
She ran her tongue over her lips provocatively. The movement should’ve warranted at least some sort of reaction, but he did nothing except a slow blink. Desperation danced with the desire in her veins, sending a trickle of worry down her spine. Was he going to make her beg?
She’d die a cold hard spinster first.
“I don’t want anything from a man who doesn’t want me!”
Bo froze. “You think I don’t want you? That I don’t want to be buried so deep inside you right now, I wouldn’t be able to tell where I end and you begin?”
Her nerves sparked like fireworks, and she squirmed, unsure if he intended to bite or suck or lick. Right now, she didn’t care as long as he put his mouth on her. What the hell is he waiting for?
His solid, steady touch eased a loneliness inside her she hadn’t even realized existed. His stability comforted her. She could let herself go and Bo would be there to catch her.
Something in the atmosphere changed. Her lips tingled. Her heart thudded—boom, boom, boom—picking up strength with every pulse. He was finally going to kiss her.
His chest rumbled with a groan, and his fingers threaded through her hair, yanking her against his chest so every inch of bare skin on her front pressed to his. He took her mouth with ferocity.
Half afraid he’d stop, but too gone to care, Cheri threw her arms around his neck and met him with full measure. Her body was a living, breathing volcano of lust and desire. Every cell inside her strained toward the man beneath her.
And in response, Bo crushed her in his grip and devoured her mouth. She could sense him skating the edge and knew instinctively if she pushed a little bit harder, he’d snap. Then he eased back, leaving her listening to the harsh sound of their breathing.
“I can’t decide if I want to strangle you or kiss you.”
Cheri stiffened and pulled back, his words cooling the inferno burning through her veins. He regretted kissing her. “Let me go.”
“Cheri—”
“Well, well. I heard you were bartending up here, not whoring yourself out.”
Like a bucket of ice water had been tossed in her face, Cheri jerked, staring in shock past Bo’s shoulder at her brother, Frankie. He stood with his elbow propped on the bar, a look of pure disgust on his familiar face.
Before Cheri could even blink or process the information, Bo jumped to his feet, yanked his gun from his holster and took aim. “Put your fucking hands up.”
The instant change shocked her system. In the matter of a second, Bo changed from a lazy playboy to a killer. Leaving Cheri struggling to process the fact that her long absent brother now stood in her bar. Judging her.
Bo shifted in front of her, shielding her from Frankie’s laser like stare. Cheri took advantage of her hidden position to quickly button her top and frantically try to piece together her resistance. She’d left home ten years ago, to the tune of her father and brother’s disgust. Not that she’d needed or expected them to believe her when she’d tried to tell them she hadn’t had sex with the quarterback and his friends.
Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with the top button. Shit. If Frankie sensed how much he’d thrown her off kilter, he’d go in for the kill. Just like he always had.
Finally, she managed to get her stupid shirt buttoned and drew in a deep breath. Think happy thoughts. Maybe Frankie had finally come to apologize for not defending her when her father attacked her.
Cheri squared her shoulders and stepped from behind Bo’s shelter, slapping a half-cocked smile in place. “Well, if it isn’t the prodigal son. Off doing daddy’s dirty work again?”
“Why don’t you tell your boyfriend here to put his gun down before he accidentally shoots an innocent man.” The lights hanging over the bar glinted off Frankie’s gold cross as he shifted to face the end of Bo’s pistol barrel.
“I’m not sure the terms innocent or man apply here.”
Bo shifted to his left, putting his body another few inches closer to hers. “You know him?”
She took her time before answering. Frankie had changed in the past ten years. His youthful freckles hid beneath a red-neck patchy beard, and he wore a stained jean jacket to match. And his eyes, the same shade as hers, held the sunken look of a druggie searching for his next fix.
What the hell had happened to him?
“Cheri, why don’t you do something for someone other than yourself for once in your life and tell the sheriff here I’m no threat.” Frankie’s condescending tone jumped right out of her memory playbook. Apparently, not much had changed.
He still treated her like a white-trash trailer park version of his little sister. And it still hurt.
A wash of anger shot from her toes to her scalp. For all her family’s preaching about love and righteousness, their capacity for compassion was about as big as a tick’s turd. “And why would I do that, big brother? You show up in my bar, unannounced, looking like a junkie ready to rob the place for drug money.”
Frankie paled and rocked back. “You know what the Lord thinks about drugs.”
“Yeah, the same thing he thinks about whores.” Cheri narrowed her eyes, letting Frankie see a glimmer of her fury before she purposely smiled again.
“Cheri, do I need to arrest him or not?” Bo spoke in an even tone, his gun never wavering from his target.
Yes. “No. This is my long-lost brother, Frankie. As far as I know, he’s never committed an actual crime other than being an asshole.”
Frankie’s hard gaze flicked from hers for the briefest instant.
Bo holstered his gun, and stayed close to her, hovering near her side in a deliciously protective way. Not one to waste th
e opportunity, she hooked her arm around his rock-hard waist.
Frankie watched her movement, what he thought about her clearly written in the slight curl of his thin lips. “You haven’t changed. Still using men to get what you want.”
What the hell did he mean? “Did you hit your head or something?”
Frankie ignored her and turned to Bo. “It’s a sad thing to have to do, but as her brother I feel it’s only fair to warn you my sister has a habit of sleeping with anyone she can if it will benefit her.”
If she hadn’t dulled her feelings to her brother’s taunts so long ago, his comment might have had the power to do more than just sting. Besides, she hadn’t been with a guy until she’d turned seventeen, and it had been absolutely pathetic if Bo’s work earlier was any indication of good sex. And she was a second from telling her brother to eat shit when she got blasted by a wave of pure heat from Bo.
“Do not talk about her like that again.”
Cheri stared in shock. The last time anyone took up for her had been…never. Even the times Lamont had stood up for her had been more like light joking to diffuse the angry attacks from her father and brother.
“Just as pathetic as my best friend. He fell for it back then. Now you. The weakness of men for the sins of the adulteress,” Frankie said.
Bo took a menacing step forward and Cheri didn’t bother trying to hold him back. She wanted him to pound Frankie’s face into the floor and throw him out on his ass. “Maybe you should go back to church and pray for me. Oh yeah, wait a minute, hypocrites aren’t allowed in church.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.” Frankie surged to his feet and backed toward the door.
“I think you should listen to your sister.”
Cheri sidled up to Bo and leaned into his side, deliberately pushing her breasts against his arm provocatively. If Frankie thought she was a slut, she might as well act the part.
Relentless River: Men of Mercy, Book 10 Page 6