by Kasey Lane
He smiled against her hair. “Yeah. Like how much?”
Smacking his shoulder, she laughed. “Like a lot. But we can’t be together. I mean, not like boyfriend and girlfriend, okay? I promise not to go all lovey-dovey on you, but you have to promise not to try and turn me into something I’m not.” She fell silent for a moment. “And Bowen?”
“Yeah, little one?”
“You don’t have to treat me like a sacrificial virgin. I’m not a princess. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t played with toys and stuff or messed around…you know what I mean. I won’t break.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a minute while he fought to keep the vision of Gabby riding a vibrator out of his head. “Do you still want to have sex with me?”
Of course, he did, but did he really want to take on that kind of responsibility? He could go out and get laid pretty easily and leave Gabby to find someone else. The thought of her with another man filled him with a sudden white-hot rage that was both unexpected and a little scary.
But rigorous honesty was the name of the game now. No more hiding behind bullshit charm and shallow lust masquerading as desire.
He leaned back on the lounge and tilted her head up with his finger. “I haven’t stopped fantasizing about fucking you since my sister’s wedding. You’ll probably think I’m a total creeper, and I’m not because I would never hurt you or ask you to do anything you didn’t want to—never—but it nearly kills me when you go into my bedroom and strip off your clothes and slip into my sheets. What do you wear to bed, underneath my T-shirt? I have to know.”
She flashed him a little half smirk and brushed her lips over his. “What do you think I wear?”
He bit her bottom lip and she gasped. “A tank top. Thin enough that I can see your dark nipples harden and pucker. And maybe boy shorts, probably with Hello Kitty or Dr. Who or some nerdy thing like that. Shorts tight enough that I can see the cheeks of your ass peeking out.” He nibbled the corner of her lip. “I’d like to take a bite of that ass.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, what?”
“Yeah that’s what I wear to bed. Almost exactly.”
He leaned his head back and groaned. “Do you realize that you’re small enough that I could pick you up and fuck you against the wall?” he asked, almost casually. Not like it was something he fantasized about nearly every day. Every hour.
“Have you done that before? No wait, I don’t think I want to know about the past.” Her voice sounded gravelly.
“No. I don’t think I have.”
“You’re not sure? Oh, yeah. I forgot.”
Yeah. Let’s not forget what a loser I really am.
“I would like that. Having you pin me against the wall with this ridiculously big body of yours.” His hand crept up into the hair at the base of her neck and his lips slammed down on hers. He couldn’t help it. He’d been a mere thread width away from kissing her for days, but when she painted the image of them fucking against the wall he just couldn’t take it anymore.
His cock grew painfully hard, straining against the button on the front of his jeans. His skin felt scorched where she dragged her fingers over his chest and behind his neck.
“We’re not screwing tonight, Gabby,” he said, surprising himself.
She pulled away. “What? Why?”
“We’re not ready. You need more time.”
“More time? I feel like I’ve waited forever. I’m ready now. Who says you get to set the time line?”
“I say.” A lot had happened that night and in the last few days. Jumping into bed was problematic for so many reasons.
She tugged free of his hands and scrambled off his lap. “Mind-fucking. That’s what I get from you? I just want to get laid. Why is that so hard?”
She stood glaring at him with her hands on her hips. So pissed and so damned cute. “You said hard.” He laughed. She continued to stare at him until he saw her lips waver and she started laughing. At first it was small—a chuckle—then it grew into something bigger—an epic laugh. It was infectious. He bent to stand up and pressed his shoulder into her belly as he stood, effectively lifting her.
Still laughing he carried her into his bedroom and tossed her on his California king-sized bed. “Just because we’re not having actual sex yet doesn’t mean we can’t have fun,” he growled and yanked off her funky flats that had cats on them or some sort of shit before he tossed them to the floor.
“Undo your pants,” he said as he began to pull at her jeans. She started to object, maybe just because that was what she always did. But she stopped herself and slowly unzipped her jeans so he could pull them down.
“What are you going to do?” she whispered.
“Whatever I want,” he said. His throat felt full of dust and gravel as he crawled onto the bed and leaned down on his forearm. He covered her lips with two fingers. “Here’s the deal, little one. In my bed, there are rules. Don’t look so pissed—listen. We’re going to give this a try. If you don’t like it we’ll do something else, okay?”
She nodded with a pained look.
“As long as you agree beforehand, I make the rules in my bed. If you don’t like something just tell me. In bed, I like to have control, make the decisions. In return, my sole job is to make you happy, bring you pleasure.”
“Like a BDSM, thing? Do I need a safe word?”
Bowen widened his eyes before he chuckled. “No. Nothing like that. You don’t like something or I go too fast or whatever, all you need to do is tell me.” Although now the image of her tied face down to his bed with her ass in the air, reddened from his hand, was stuck in his head.
But, no. No, no, no. Gabby deserved more than that. More than his depraved, fucked-up, jaded self could ever offer her. If they were serious about having a fling and then walking away, he’d need to be mindful to give her a great experience. And not the pathetic bone that someone like Roland would give her.
Fucked-up loser that he was, he could give her that. Prove he wasn’t the asshole everyone thought he was.
*
Gabby was terrified. Excited and totally turned on, but terrified. She froze as Bowen pulled his shirt off, exposing the rigid muscles of his stomach covered in ink. He tossed the shirt over his shoulder with determination. She took several deep breaths, trying to quell the thunder of her heartbeat pounding against her ribs. Her normal techniques of affected disdain or disinterest had completely abandoned her, scampered out the door along with her logic and reserve. While she hadn’t actually salivated yet, she was probably on the verge of it while she sat staring at him, wide-eyed and owlish. His gaze trapped hers like a bird in a cage and his fingers stilled on the zipper pull of his jeans.
“What?” he asked, his voice deep and raspy, concern forming lines around his eyes. “What’s wrong, Gabby?”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she said pushing up on her elbows, jutting her boobs out, hoping he liked what she had to offer. She’d always felt her breasts were too small, not enough to put on display, but she’d noticed him more than once checking her chest out so maybe, for once, her bra size was a good thing.
He smirked, dimples popping. “You’ve seen me without my shirt before.”
“Uh. Not all the way off,” she admitted. Heat rushed up her neck and burned her cheeks. “Christ, Bowen, your body. I can’t believe I even thought I could do this.” The flush spread across her own body. She started to scramble off the bed. This whole thing had been a really, really bad idea. She should not be doing this and she should have told him the whole truth.
That would be a big no on the sexy times with Bowen Landry. This was not happening. Okay, so she had boobs that he may or may not like, but she had almost no butt and skinny hips and look at him. He was fucking gorgeous.
Bowen’s big hard body came down over her. His arms pinned her in as his legs held her bottom half down. “First off, I don’t want this if you’re not comfortable with—”
“But, look…uh…�
�� He held his fingers over her lips and she fell silent.
“Second, you’re gorgeous. I’ve already told you that. Do you think I’m a liar?” With regret his hand lifted from her mouth.
“I guess not.” She shook her head.
“You guess not. Hey, if you have doubts, then…” He started to pull himself off her. Cold air crawled over her sensitized skin.
She wrapped her hand around his bicep. Holy shit. Her fingers barely made it halfway around his thick arms. “Let’s not pretend you haven’t done this many, many times.”
“I’m not pretending anything. Everyone knows my past. But my past is just that. It has no place in this room or between me and you.”
Something about the way his eyes dug into her, imploring her to see what he was trying to say, settled into her bones. Not in an uncomfortable way. In a warm cocoa on a cold night way. It was disconcerting, nonetheless.
“Then stop questioning my interest.”
He was right, of course. Maybe he was an alcoholic. Maybe he did have a questionable past. Maybe they weren’t meant to be together for the long-term. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have this time. In the last couple days, he had been there for her, more than anyone had in a long, long time…maybe ever. He hadn’t lied to her. He’d been kind and honest about everything so far.
Bowen rolled to the side and propped himself up on his elbow. His biceps bulged, making Gabby want to run her hand up and down his arm. She rolled to face him, with her head still on the soft flannel of the pillow. Against her own will and better judgment, she reached out and caressed the days’ worth of growth on his check, loving the way it scratched against her palm.
“I’m trying, Bowen, I really am. I want us to be…friends. I want to be happy here. I just don’t know how,” she blurted. The words had been sitting on her tongue for days, just waiting for her to let her guard down. Hopefully he’d understand how much it had hurt to say them.
He reached up and took her hand from his face, engulfing it in his heat. He brought it to his chest. “I know. I am, too.”
What an odd thing for such a confident, cocky man to say. “You never give the impression that you’re anything but in complete control.”
He sighed and rolled on to his back, tugging her in to his body and her head onto his arm. “Gabby, I’m doing the best that I can. Every day, I’m trying to be the best version of me I can be. But this is all new to me. That and I have a lot of wreckage to fix. I’m navigating new waters, sweetheart, just like you.”
“Do you always talk so much during sex? It’s a wonder you ever get laid.”
Chapter Eleven
Bowen chuckled and shook his head. Did he? No, usually he fell into bed or onto the floor or whatever and did the deal with whomever happened to be convenient or interested. “I guess not.” It was different with Gabby, though. She was inexperienced and all and it was kind of his responsibility to make it good for her—special. It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Gabby herself was special. Nope, not a damn thing to do with that. He’d treat any gruff, virtuous chick the same.
Yeah right.
Okay, so maybe she was a little different. There wasn’t anything wrong with having a fucking heart and being a nice guy. So he’d been a dick most of his adult life. He did say he was trying to be better. Gabby was cool and she was off-the-charts hot. She didn’t want a relationship and neither did he. But he liked her and she seemed to like—okay maybe tolerate was a better word—him.
Did it make him a total douchebag that he wanted to bang her a few times? Probably. Did it make him a bigger loser because he should be focusing on paying back his sister for rehab? Yeah. Could he stop at this point? Not a chance.
She flopped onto her back, her hair fanned around her face, framing it in long swirls of shiny brown and russet. A soft smile danced on the curve of her mouth and her eyes sparkled. He rolled back on top of her, her narrow hips widening. She released a quiet sigh and pressed her palms into his bare chest, her hands a fiery brand on his already feverish skin.
“Then why, Bowen?” she asked, her eyes blazing.
“Why what, baby?”
“Why me? Why this?”
He shrugged, feigning an informality he didn’t feel as the moment already felt soggy with emotion. Whether it was weighed down with the promise of the night or with the prospect of crossing yet another line he shouldn’t, he wasn’t sure. Everything had faded away except the two of them in that moment. He answered her as honestly as he could. “Because right now, right here, there’s no other place I’d rather be and no other person I’d rather be with.”
“Promise this isn’t about your pity.”
“I fucking promise that what I feel for you right now isn’t pity.” She lifted her brows in surprise then seemed to process his response. After a moment lust glittered in her eyes and she wrapped the delicate fingers of one hand around his neck and pushed her other hand into his hair. Before he could decide what to do next she made the decision for both of them by yanking his mouth down onto hers. When her lips touched his everything else just disappeared. No soft fade at the edges or a narrowing of his field of vision. Suddenly it was just her, here in his room on his bed. Just them.
After a moment of losing himself in her kiss, she pulled away and looked into his eyes. “Bowen, I would really like to have sex with you tonight.” Her soft, even tone surprised him and forced him to remember just why he’d wanted to wait. All his rationalizations didn’t seem to make sense anymore. Her fingers played on his nape, the small strokes of her fingers sending hot stabs of arousal right to his cock.
He pushed up on his elbows over her, looking down at her expectant face. A hint of vulnerability shadowed her eyes, contradicting the stubborn tilt to her chin.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please.” Her whisper could have been a shout in the quiet of his room. And, surely, that whispered plea held more power than any request. It held the limitless courage of this small woman with the perfect body. It held mountains of bravery and want.
“Let’s just see what happens, okay?” he said, attempting to keep his voice level.
She opened her eyes and considered him. Then she smiled, the soft curve of her full lips seeming to stretch across the room and fill all those dark creaky places in him. “Sure, pretty boy, as long as seeing what happens leads to your big cock in me by the end of the night.”
Whether or not she intended her words to be playful or not was irrelevant. Reality was that they woke that beast inside of him, the one that desperately wanted to fuck Gabby, the one that forgot about doing the next right thing and putting his recovery before all else. The monster didn’t care about Gabby’s inexperience, other than the dark, twisty part of his soul that wanted to be the one to teach her what her body could do.
“Oh, little one, I’m not sure you really know what you’re in for.” His voice was deep, darker than ever. His pulse boiled inside his body, heating him from the inside out.
She did that thing she did with her chin again, tilted her head to the side and jutted her jaw out like it made her bigger than she was, somehow tougher. “Maybe you don’t know—”
He settled his body weight on his elbows and forearms while wrapping his hands around the back of her head. Essentially, there wasn’t one part of her luscious little body that wasn’t pinned or controlled by him. And that thought alone shot a frisson of lust through his entire body. But when she trembled and her eyes turned nearly feral with desire he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. He knew where the next kiss would lead and hoped she would be able to forgive him when it was all over. Hell, he hoped he’d be able to forgive himself.
He leaned down and met her mouth with his own and his last shred of chivalry took flight. Her tongue darted out, a quick taste, before he slanted his lips and wrapped his tongue around hers. She tasted like iced tea and peppermint, which might just become his new favorite flavor combo after that night. He grazed her bottom lip
with his teeth and pulled back to look at her face.
“You still with me?”
She parted her flushed lips and whispered, “Yes.”
The way she vacillated between sultry and shy was maddening and sexy as fuck. He loved the way she deferred to him in bed. For once, she stopped fighting and just gave in to the moment. What kind of man did it make him that he was turned on by her innocence, that it made his cock harder and made him want to fuck her into next week? He pushed away his guilt, mostly because he still had his pants on and she was sprawled out under him with a blatant expression of want.
He crawled off her and stood at the end of the bed. He should warn her again that they shouldn’t do this, tell her to run away because he was probably too fucked up for her. But instead he thought about pushing her further, to see just how compliant his little hellcat could be. Frankly, he was too far gone to do anything else. He did what any domineering asshole would do, he crooked his finger at her.
“Come here and take my pants off, little one.” He barely recognized the throaty sound coming from his mouth. And when he’d told her he liked to be in control in the bedroom he hadn’t been lying, but he had been exaggerating, maybe to scare her off a little. But her eyes glazed over and the corner of her lips kicked up, telling him she was all in. Watching her as she rolled over and got to her hands and knees made his already hard cock throb. Jesus, if he didn’t get inside this woman soon he was going to explode. She wiggled her ass and shot him a telling look over her shoulder before turning around and crawling to him. Oh yeah, he was definitely going to bend her over something and fuck her from behind. Maybe not tonight, but soon. Really damn soon.
When she reached the end of the bed she surprised him by standing next to him. The light played off her golden skin and, for a moment, he could only stare at her. Her long hair was a wild mess around her shoulders and falling over one breast. Her green eyes blazed through him, seeing too much, feeling too much, wanting too much.
“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” he asked, reaching his hand out to trace her erect rosy nipple.