by A. M. Kusi
“I’m sorry—”
“No. You have nothing to apologize for. You’re beautiful.” He kissed one scar, and then another. “Perfect just the way you are.” He made sure to caress each one with his lips before he looked up at her again.
Tears welled in her eyes as she focused on him. She sucked him in like a black hole, relentless and complete. His chest squeezed. “You are not your scars. You’re not your past. They’re just reminders that you’re a warrior. They’re beautiful. You’re so fucking stunning you take my breath away. You make me . . .” He choked up. He wanted her to know just how truly amazing she was.
He dipped his head to her sex. His tongue darted out, licking between her hot slick folds. She was dripping wet for him. She tasted like honey from the gods. He groaned and she pulled on his hair until the pain only highlighted the pleasure. His cock was rock hard, the zipper teeth cutting into his flesh painfully.
“You taste so good,” he said before diving back in for more. He licked and sucked as her legs began to tremble, clamping around his head. He pressed them apart, spreading her thighs open to him as he used his fingers to fuck her and sucked her clit into his mouth.
“Fuck!” she gasped, her eyes widening before she squeezed them shut.
“Open those eyes, Angel. Want you to see me worship you. Want you to see how responsive your tight little body is. Want you to see who’s making you feel this good. Don’t hide from me,” he begged.
Belle’s eyes rolled. Her thighs clenched around him and he raked his teeth ever so gently over her pulsing nub.
“Oh, god. Yes!” she grit out, no doubt trying to be quiet.
How loud could she be if they were alone?
A flush of wetness dripped down his chin and fingers. He lapped up her juices as she came down, her body growing limp. Her fingers released his hair as she lay back on the bed. He tucked himself in next to her, pulling her hot naked body against his. He was still fully clothed, but he’d never felt so naked with a woman before in his life. Her gaze had penetrated his soul, leaving him exposed. Too vulnerable. Belle saw him. And she didn’t run away.
“That was . . .”
“Beautiful,” he finished for her. He’d never seen anything more stunning than witnessing her come.
“Earth-shattering.”
He chuckled and held her closer. “My ego appreciates the compliment.”
“Bently . . .” Her voice wavered.
He considered her eyes, worried. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
Relief swept over him as he exhaled.
“I’ve never . . . I mean . . . I’ve never experienced that before.”
She’d felt it too. “I know. It was intense.” The hurricane of emotions that had swept through him while worshipping her on his knees was staggering.
“No—I mean, yes, it was. But I meant, I’ve never had an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced before. I had no idea it could be like that.”
He was stunned speechless. His brows knit together. This beautiful creature had never had an orgasm from a partner? “That was your first?”
She nodded, looking down as if ashamed.
He smiled. “Then we have a lot of time to make up for.”
He sucked her nipple into his mouth as she gasped. His hands found her slick entrance, searching out the spot that was sure to send her over the edge again.
He was going to make her come, over and over. Until she begged him to stop. Because his angel deserved to see heaven.
***
Bently squinted his eyes open, jolting upright. Warm sunlight trickled in through gray curtains, shining onto the red-rose bedspread. This is not my bedroom . . .
Belle.
He settled back, replaying the long night they’d had together, orgasm after orgasm that he’d given her before she’d fallen asleep in his arms. He shifted, adjusting his throbbing cock in his boxer briefs. He’d need a cold shower soon, that was for sure. He’d never gotten so worked up and not at least given himself relief. But she’d looked too peaceful to move his arm from under her as they’d lain in bed last night. Where was she now?
The door opened and Belle walked in carrying two cups of coffee. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
Her shy smile only made his grin widen. He accepted the cup and took a sip in an attempt to hide his morning breath, before he said, “Good morning to you, gorgeous. Thanks for this.”
“It’s the least I owe you.” She sat next to him on the other side of the bed.
He set his cup on the nightstand and held out his arms to her. “Come here.”
She set her own mug down and moved closer.
He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her chin to meet her eyes. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“You’re not upset because I didn’t . . . return the favor?”
What! That’s what she thinks of me? No. That’s what she’s known all her life. She deserved so much more. And he was just another selfish bastard getting in line. “Last night wasn’t a favor. It was a gift. No strings attached. Last night was for you.”
She nodded, her neck bobbing as she swallowed.
“Fuck, I want you more than I ever thought was possible. But I will never pressure you to do anything you’re not ready for. I’ll wait as long as you need to be ready for that.” He rubbed her cheek with his thumb.
She sighed and leaned her head against his. “I know that. It’s just . . . you’re so much more than I was ready for.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He chuckled.
“It’s the best thing.” She leaned in and kissed him.
When they pulled apart, he pressed his lips to her temple. “Now, how about I take you to breakfast and then I’ll drop you back off here before I go into work?”
She smiled. “That sounds like a great idea.”
After relieving himself and freshening up in the bathroom, he followed her downstairs. The warm feeling in his chest grew. Love for Belle overflowed like a well, spilling over and soaking his every cell. She’d come into his life and stolen parts of his heart he hadn’t known existed. He was going to do whatever it took to protect her, to care for her, to love her.
TJ was sitting at the kitchen table scribbling away in a sketchbook. He looked up as they passed the kitchen. “Sleeping beauty finally awake?”
“Smart-ass,” Bently replied playfully.
TJ smirked, mirth flashing in his eyes.
“You coming to get breakfast with us?” Bently asked.
TJ shook his head. “Nah.”
“Your loss.” Bently shrugged as he grabbed his jacket. His arm snaked around Belle’s as she laughed. “And my gain.”
A warm smile spread across Belle’s face as her eyes sparkled like she couldn’t believe how good and right this felt either. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Come on. I’ve worked up an appetite.”
“Uhhhh, too much information!” TJ grumbled.
Bently and Belle burst out laughing as he opened the door for her. But the laughter died as soon as it had started. The blood drained from his face. Belle’s body stiffened. Her gasp was the last thing he heard as blood rushed in his ears. Adrenaline and instinct kicked his body into high alert.
Words were written in blood across his windshield. “You’ll pay.” A gallon or more of red liquid had been sprayed all over the hood of his truck. There in the center lay a lifeless pig.
The fuck? What happened?
Violence stained his life. Belle. Belle wasn’t safe. Not with him. He opened the door and shoved Belle back inside.
“Lock the door,” he barked.
His eyes greedily searched the neighborhood. The fucker would want to see him find this. Whoever this was knew he’d be here. Or he followed me. Did that mean his family was in harm’s way too? Either wa
y, it meant Belle and TJ were in danger because of him. He’d promised to take care of her, be her protector. He’d put them in harm’s way. He’d failed.
Bently dialed dispatch. He needed Vargas to help him sort this out.
Several minutes later, Officer Luke Parsons and Rife Owens pulled up, lights flashing.
“What the fuck?” Rife asked, surveying the damage.
“I want to find out who this fucker is,” Bently growled.
“Well, at least we know it ain’t gonna be one of those Muslims.” Parsons laughed.
Bently and Rife both turned to him. Bently’s fists clenched, his nails biting into his palm. The fuck!?
“Oh, come on. Pigs, pork, Muslims . . . Get it?” Parsons didn’t take the hint.
“We’re not laughing because it’s not funny,” Bently snapped.
“Geez, tough crowd.” Parsons chuckled.
Rife shook his head. “I’ll get every inch of the truck dusted for fingerprints.”
“I’ll talk to the neighbors and see if they saw anything,” Parsons said, before heading to the house to the left of Belle’s.
“Sir, you should see this,” Rife called him over.
Bently walked to the open driver’s side door. Rife held a photo in one gloved hand. Bently’s eyes widened, taking in the photograph shot of him and Belle together from no more than a hundred yards away from this very spot as he helped her into his truck. But that wasn’t the outfit she’d worn last night. That was weeks ago—on one of their dates.
His pulse raced and his ears rang, drowning out all the other sounds around him. His vision grew hazy at the edges. Gasping for breath, he turned back to the duplex. Belle’s worried gaze focused on him from behind the window inside. His stomach tipped and his heart sank. This was why things would never work between them. Because sooner or later, he wouldn’t be able to protect her. He’d fail her like he’d done with everyone else, every time it mattered before. Everything was spinning out of control. He couldn’t risk it.
He couldn’t risk her.
Chapter 33
Belle
Raindrops pelted against the roof of her idling car as Belle checked her phone one more time while she sat across the road from Bently’s house.
11 a.m. Belle: Are you okay?
1:30 p.m. Belle: Can I bring you some lunch?
Both texts were marked as read, but he’d not bothered to reply. She glanced at the digital clock. 8:06 p.m.
When they’d discovered the horror outside her house the previous morning, real fear had shimmered back in those cautious blue eyes of his for the first time since she’d known him. He had to be hurting. He wouldn’t ask for help, and he’d pull away. But there was no chance she’d leave him when he needed her. Like it or not, she was in this with him.
She slipped the keys in her pocket and opened her door, glancing around the quiet neighborhood as she got out. Thunder rumbled overhead, the gray storm clouds ominous. She locked her car and jogged over to Bently’s house before knocking with more confidence than she felt. Because there was always a small chance that he’d reject her, now more than ever. But she could do this. She could put herself out there for the only man who had ever truly shown her what it was like to be honestly cared for.
Bently cracked the door open, his dark gaze widening when he met hers. He quickly averted his eyes, seemingly searching the otherwise empty neighborhood.
“What are you doing here?” he growled, opening the door and pulling her inside. He slammed the door shut and flipped the deadbolt. Something dark flashed in his hand as he moved.
Oh my god. It was a gun.
Fear leapt, strangling her chest. Of course he had a gun—he was a police officer. But the fact that he was answering the door with it confirmed her suspicions. The man was terrified and in real danger.
He set the gun on the small table by the door. “What are you doing here?” he repeated.
Her eyes flicked up to his, hidden behind an emotionless mask. The dimness in the entryway only added to the charged air. Lightning flashed, illuminating the vulnerability in his eyes. Anger and fear crashed off him in unsettling waves of unseen energy. She could feel him. Feel the ache of his terror, his worry, his guilt. She blinked, licking her lips. “I was worried about you.”
He scoffed. “You shouldn’t be here.”
The wall was back, erected even stronger between them. Why was he shutting her out again?
Because that’s all he’s ever known.
“You can talk to me. I’m here for you.”
Silence. His shoulders inched higher with tension and his breathing grew ragged.
She pressed on. “I’m sure it’s scary having someone doing this to you. Are you worried it’s the same guy who attacked you?”
“I’m not scared!” he roared as thunder outside boomed.
She flinched at his outburst. Anger boiling over, she snapped. “Then you’re not human! Experiencing anger, fear, happiness, and sadness are all part of having a beating heart.” She pushed her finger against his chest. “Do you think it makes you less of a man to talk about your emotions? To admit you are worried about this?”
He captured her hand in his and backed her into the door, caging her in. “Angel, I want to prove to you just how much of a man I really am so bad it aches.”
His hot breath tickled her tingling lips. Bently’s gaze was dark and needy, like he was on the verge of coming undone. The man was pure chaos, smelling of the unflinching honesty of oak and the depravity of sin. The air hung heavy with anticipation and knowing. She might not be able to take away his pain, but she could be here for him. He needed an outlet. He needed her. More than that, she wanted to show him she trusted him and loved him, enough to give him the thing most precious to her.
“So do it.” Her voice was breathy.
He blinked as if in disbelief.
“Take me upstairs, Bently.”
“I’ll ruin you,” he growled his warning. His grip on her wrist tightened. Lightning flashed, and the lamps flickered. The storm’s energy grew as the wind whipped and whistled through the old house.
She searched his face. As much as this man wanted to believe he was the devil, didn’t he know he could only ever be her savior?
He glanced at the door. He was going to tell her to leave.
“Do your worst.” She pulled her wrist free and reached down before quickly pulling her shirt off.
His gaze raked over her exposed flesh, searing her skin with his lust. The cool air on her damp flesh made her shiver, as goose bumps prickled across her torso. His jaw ticced and his eyes roamed. She swallowed, waiting for him to do something. Anything. Bently’s fists balled at his sides as if afraid to touch her.
She leaned in and pulled the hem of his shirt up. His muscled torso was chiseled to perfection. Lightning flashed again, highlighting the dips and ridges of his abdomen, heaving with each bated breath. It was as if he’d sucked all the oxygen up in the room, leaving her with nothing but thick, sticky, wanton gasps. He helped her get the rest of the fabric over his head and then he was shirtless before her.
His body trembled as she lightly traced over his scars. She’d seen them before, but this was much more intimate. It was like he was letting her see him for the first time. Like he was baring it all to scare her away, send her running in the other direction.
“I’m not going anywhere, Bently.”
He picked her up faster than she’d thought possible. Her legs wrapped around his waist. His hard bulge pressed against her ass. He carried her upstairs as the lights went out—a blackout eclipsing them in total darkness.
Her stomach tipped as he laid her on the bed. His hands roughly pulled her pants and panties off all at once. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness, but it only amplified her other senses. The sound of his zipper and rustle of clothing melded wit
h the pounding of rain on the tin roof. Thunder boomed, and a second later lightning streaked, illuminating Bently in shadows and heaven’s light. Those blue eyes glowed for a moment in time, locked on her, filled with a hurricane of emotions, with so much passion. She trembled in apprehension as he leaned in. Hands pressed her wrists to the mattress as hot lips met hers. He dove his tongue into her mouth, taking, ravaging, stirring any hesitation left into burning need.
He licked her neck, and then sucked hard.
“Bently,” she gasped.
His hands moved to her breasts, and he took his time to suck and tease her. His touch was rougher than last time, but still so perfect. His want bled into his every caress. His movements frantic and desperate.
His fingers dipped inside her wet pussy as he groaned. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”
“Only you,” she panted.
Thunder rumbled, chills skating across her skin as his hot body lowered onto hers.
“I need you,” he grated.
“So, have me.” She reached out and stroked his hard cock as he pulsed and twitched in her hand.
He groaned. “Not going to last if you keep doing that.”
Lightning flashed, creating a snapshot of the pleasured agony of his face—brows drawn, eyes focused, teeth biting.
She lined him up at her entrance, both of them gasping in the same breath at the connection.
“Are you sure?” he asked with a pained breath.
Tears welled in her eyes, because even now, he was thinking of her. No matter how out of control he felt on the inside, he was still putting her first.
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. Fuck me, Bently.”
He plunged inside her. She sucked in a staggered breath. He rocked into her, hard and slow, as if savoring every second. Brutal and gentle. Reckless and inevitable. She squeezed her eyes shut in utter rapture.