by Kasey Lane
She trembled under his touch and the beast in his chest roared with pleasure. “I am.”
“You don’t seem like it, little one. Just the opposite…”
“Oh, I’m terrified.”
“Do you want to stop?” He would. If she wanted to. It might kill him, but he’d stop.
“God no.” Relief flooded his bloodstream. Then she dropped to her knees in front of him, she fumbled with his belt buckle and something else entirely flooded his system. She looked up, her eyes huge in her beautiful face. “I like it.”
Oh fuck. He was such a goner for this woman.
He stepped out of his jeans and boxers, after Gabby didn’t waste any time yanking them down. But when she moved to touch his swollen cock he grabbed her hand and lifted her from the floor and into his arms. He laid her down on his flannel comforter and climbed up between her muscled thighs, pushing them wider until her knees eventually bent, and then he placed them on his shoulders.
He gazed at her glistening pussy and a band of possessiveness tightened around his chest and spread throughout his body. He had yet to be inside of Gabby but his body was yelling “mine.” Unable to resist any longer, he reached out and dragged his fingers through her heat before lifting his hand to his mouth and licking his fingers clean. He let the sweet and tangy taste of her melt on his tongue. She smelled just as delicious as she tasted. So he put his hands around her knees and pushed them wide before dipping down and taking a solid lick at her.
The beast was fully awake and he didn’t languish at the task at hand. He devoured her with his mouth, focusing on her swollen clit until her body arched and her hands wrapped around his head. When her body tensed and she cried out he slowed and coaxed her through it before he reached for the condom he’d pulled from the drawer earlier and ripped the wrapper off.
“Can I put it on you?” she asked propping herself up on her elbows. God, she looked so beautiful, so perfectly sexy and wild, he couldn’t wait any longer.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He held the tip and unrolled it. When he looked up he caught her staring at his hand smoothing over his cock. The tight, hungry look on her face made his chest fill with masculine pride.
“Lie back, little one.” He positioned himself over her, supporting his body weight on his forearms. He wrapped his hands around her head and caressed her jawline with his thumbs. The thick head of his cock notched at the entrance of her pussy, eager—so eager—to plunge in balls deep. But Gabby was inexperienced and he wanted this to be good for her. He pushed only the head in, testing her, stretching her, and her soft walls embraced him.
He kissed her softly, letting his lips linger on hers, trying to tell her all the things he’d never be able to put voice to. Her hands were wrapped around his shoulders, her short nails softly digging into his skin. And he liked it. He liked it a lot.
After pulling out, he pushed back in a little farther and let her adjust to his size. She gasped but he kept his eyes on her to make sure she was right there with him. She was. He leaned down and kissed her neck before biting down and pushing all the way in. Her cry had a jagged edge to it, not of passion or lust, but of pain. Her eyes widened before she slammed them shut. Tears leaked from the corner.
“Gabby…” He wanted to shout, but he kept his voice even. What the hell had just happened? “Gabby. Look at me.”
The whole situation was hell, unraveling motherfucking hell. He had his painfully hard dick lodged in a gorgeous woman. His body was demanding he move, demanding he fuck her hard. The blood in his body boiled, raged through his veins begging him to take her. His brain was processing her sudden discomfort and realizing…that maybe…Gabby was a…a virgin.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck. He knew she was inexperienced, but not that inexperienced.
She continued to pant, but slowly opened her eyes and did that thing with her chin. But Bowen was having none of that shit. He put all his weight on one arm and wrapped his hand around her neck and the back of her head. But before he could say anything she reached up with one hand and stroked his cheek. Her expression softened and she smiled that little half smile of hers.
“Just give me another second. It only hurt a little.”
“Gabby…”
“Bowen, please don’t stop.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Please.”
Again, all it took for this little mouse of a woman to bring him to his knees was a quietly uttered “please.” Please and the way that band of possessiveness pulled so tight he thought he’d snap in two the second he pushed into her. He was a goner.
But he nodded. He was certain that screwing Gabby was not doing “the next right thing.” It was just the opposite of that. But her muscles clenched around him and he could give two shits about anything except her.
She pulled him down and kissed him, teeth clashing, tongues wresting, lips burning. He didn’t care if she was using him to get rid of her V-card or she was going to get attached to him. He didn’t care about anything but staying in her sweet, painfully tight pussy.
He started to move slowly with agonizing care, pulling out and feeling her body reluctantly release him, pushing in and relishing the tug of her warm glove surrounding him. Over and over he moved in and out of her, kissing her, running his hands up and down her slim, perfect body. The tension gradually melted from her muscles, from her beautiful face, and she began to undulate beneath him in an artless, but wholly sexy way. He reached down between them and ran his finger and thumb over her slippery nub.
“Okay?” he asked her. Needing a verbal confirmation because he couldn’t trust her non-verbal promise anymore.
“Good. So, so good.”
He increased his pace, the slap of their slick bodies sounding through the small bedroom, and he pinched her clit at the same time he bit down on her breast. Gabby’s body convulsed under him, his cock was clenched in the tight fist of her channel and he felt his balls seize up as he plunged into her one last time before he finally let the wave that had been threatening to consume him all night crash over him, pulling him under. For moments, all he felt was Gabby, riding the tide with him even though he was certain it would be his true undoing.
Because booze and drugs had been powerful, but this thing between them…this Gabrielle Alvarez, was all encompassing. And it had the power to destroy him for good.
*
“Why didn’t you tell me, Gabby?” His face was red and his eyes dark, not with passion like moments ago, but anger, and it was directed all at her. Pissed-off Bowen was a force to be reckoned with, a force she had yet to glimpse until then. He chose the exact moment she felt ripped apart and scraped raw to turn into this untamed man, so unlike the passionate, dominant lover he’d just showed her he could be.
This man in front of her was a stranger with walls up taller and thicker than she’d ever built.
Dammit. She should have known better. She should have kept her guard up. Other women could have emotionless sex—even epically hot sex—and not get attached. Why couldn’t she?
Instead of feeling empowered by what had just happened between them, dread crept up her spine and settled in her chest. His look derailed her, reminded her she was completely alone.
“Tell you what?” she asked, trying for casual. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed the same time she clutched the plaid flannel sheet around her. He tugged her back down next to him and crawled off the bed, the sweat on his gorgeous body reflecting in the moonlight peeking out from behind the parted curtain.
“Stay there.”
“I’m not a fucking dog, pretty boy.”
Bowen spun and stepped back to her, bending down so quickly she barely had a chance to pull back. “Stop with the bullshit. Stay there.”
Fuck that. No one told her what to do. “Or what?” she taunted moving toward the side of the bed again.
He pushed her back. “Try me, little one. I dare you.” His eyes were more gray than blue in the shadowy light and they danced with fire.
Whatever. It’s not like she had anywhere to go anyway. She was stuck here in his room. In his apartment.
It didn’t matter that her skin itched with the need to run. It didn’t matter that she didn’t want to have the inevitable talk. It didn’t matter that Bowen would never touch her again even if it’s what she wanted more than anything. She sat up against his headboard and gathered the comforter around her, willing the blasting beat of her heart to chill.
When Bowen walked back into the room his dick was still half erect and he was still very, very naked. “Move the blanket and lie down,” he demanded and held up a damp towel. She prepared to argue, fight back. Because she was Gabby and that was what she did. Those pinched brows and that flat mouth on his angular face challenged her to do it. Taunted in a way that she was just too damn wrecked to accept. She wasn’t winning this round. Not by a long shot.
She did what he asked, making her feel even more exposed—if that were even possible. Gently he pushed her legs apart and wiped the warm towel over her, cleaning up any evidence of her deception. He didn’t say anything, other than to make her stand afterward while he stripped the bed and put fresh sheets on. When he was done, he folded back the blankets, picked her up, and set her back down on the clean bed before lying down next to her and pulling her into his arms.
Either he ignored the stiffness in her body when he wrapped his arms around her and pushed her head down on his chest, or he just didn’t care. Anxiety pulsed through her body. Awareness burned everywhere his skin touched her. And tears threatened at the corners of her eyes.
She was a mess.
Bowen held her there for a moment just stroking her hair and running his hand over the curve of her hip, much like a horse trainer calms a skittish colt.
Gabby hoped he wouldn’t push it, wouldn’t bring up what had just happened between them. But that was unlikely since she seemed to have picked the one man in the universe who wanted to talk about feelings and shit.
“Talk to me.” His voice rumbled under her ear where she lay on his chest, sending an arrow of desire between her sore legs. She was completely clueless as to how she should respond. Play it off as not a big deal? He’d probably see right through that.
“I don’t know what to say.” He pulled her hand from lying dormant between their bodies to his chest.
“Let’s start with how you were a virgin and you didn’t tell me.” His voice wasn’t soft. It wasn’t the voice of a satiated lover. It was laced with broken glass and disappointment. And that cut her deeper than she ever expected it would.
“Bowen.”
“Cut the shit, Gabby. Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin? Goddammit! You had every opportunity to tell me the whole truth and not just the little piece you offered up.”
She struggled to sit up, get away from him and his oddly reassuring caresses, but he wasn’t having any of it. He just pulled her tighter against his lava-hot body and the heady scent of sex hit her like a hammer.
Why was he getting so bent out of shape about it? Guys never gave a shit about stuff like that. Hell, didn’t most of them take pride in their cherry-popping numbers? “It was my problem, not yours.”
His hands froze and the one on her hip wrapped around her side, just below the outline of the tattoo he’d put on her body days before.
“What the fuck does that mean? Are you really that selfish?”
Ouch. “I just thought guys didn’t care…that it was my…that… Fuck, I don’t know, Bowen. I’ve been carrying it around so long. I didn’t want you to think I was weak,” she blurted.
“Weak?” he asked quietly. “Why would—”
“Or a prude or fragile or that I would imprint on you or whatever. It just seemed less complicated.”
“Than what? Me finding out that you’re a virgin when my dick was already in you? Geezus, Gabby, how much fucking more complicated can it get? I could have really hurt you.”
When she didn’t say anything, his body tensed under hers. “Fuck. I did hurt you, didn’t I?”
She smiled against his chest. “Uhm no. You didn’t. Well, at first it hurt. But you made it good. Really good.”
His chest relaxed under her.
“What about the other stuff?”
“What other stuff?” she asked.
“You know, intimacy. The stuff with your foster douche. Did you feel…you know, uncomfortable?”
“No. It was good.” Fucking amazing. “But it was probably kind of boring for you.”
He laughed so hard her head bounced off his chest before he hugged her tight. “It was certainly not boring.”
Bowen’s phone starting buzzing on the side table and he shifted to check it. “Who the hell is calling at two in the morning?” He pressed a button and the buzzing stopped.
“Who was it?” she asked before she could stop herself. She didn’t need to know any more about his life. But a small sliver of annoyance had sliced through her. Could it have been an old girlfriend or hookup?
“Nathan. Probably drunk dialing me. Back to our conversation—” The phone started buzzing again. “Dammit.” He rolled over and this time he picked it up. “Nathan, what the fuck do you want?”
There was a pause and she could hear the hurried voice of a man. Bowen sat up and swung his legs off the bed before standing up and flipping on the light, flooding the room with real life and dissipating the shroud of fantasy they’d been under. Bowen yanked on his jeans, peppering Nathan with short responses or questions. “When?” “How?” “I understand.” “Oh God, no. No!”
He turned and motioned for Gabby to get up and get dressed. She stood and stepped in front of him. Then she did something completely out of character, something she’d never done before. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his chest before grabbing a fresh pair of leggings, a bra, and a T-shirt.
When he hung up the phone, his face was ashen and his eyes were far away. “Bowen, what’s wrong?” She yanked the T-shirt over her head and slipped on her new Uggs before pulling on a sweatshirt.
“Conner and Sabre were in an accident.”
“Are they okay?” He just stood there staring at his phone. “Bowen!” His head snapped up. “Are they okay?”
He shook his head. “No. Conner is lying in an ICU bed with several broken bones, out cold. And Sabre is dead.”
Chapter Twelve
When Bowen and Gabby rushed into the hospital, the smell of antiseptic and sickness assaulted his nose. Memories of the months he’d spent in Portland Memorial during his early teens while he watched his mom slowly rot away flooded back. But now wasn’t the time for his past to poke and goad him. Now was the time for him to literally put one foot in front of the other.
Nathan and Joe, Conner’s uncle and the business manager for Manix Curse, met them in the lobby. Both men looked pale and haunted under the flickering hospital lights, as they ushered them into the ICU waiting area where Tony Martelli, Bowen’s boss and the only father figure he’d ever really known, and Marco, Manix’s hulking singer, sat with Conner’s aunt and Joe’s wife, Elena. Elena sobbed quietly into her hands while the others huddled near the corner of the room. Marco and Tony stood when they entered and met them in the center of the room.
“What happened?” Bowen blurted and wrapped his arm around Gabby’s shoulders. For reasons he didn’t care to examine he needed her close, wanted to feel the reassuring heat of her body against his.
Joe dragged a hand down his face, a habit Bowen recognized. “Marco and Sabre had a fight at the Tiki.” Marco stared down at the floor and didn’t say anything. “Conner took Sabre home on his bike. Nathan walked home with Marco. About a mile from Sabre’s house they were hit by a car full of kids. The driver was texting and swerved at the last minute, clipping the back of his bike…and Sabre. They were thrown hard into the street, but poor Sabre hit a lamppost.” He swallowed hard twice and closed his eyes for a moment. “She broke her neck, among other things, and died of internal injuries on th
e way to the hospital. Conner was lucky.”
A grief-sized lump lodged in Bowen’s chest when he felt Gabby’s arm sneak up under his leather jacket and around his waist, barely long enough to make it all the way around him. Her strength fed into him, giving him the determination to see this through, to be there for the people he loved and who loved him back. He didn’t know how to be the person they needed him to be, but he was sure as fuck going to try.
“How lucky?” Bowen asked, fear tightening around that lump in his chest.
Nathan sighed deeply before shrugging his shoulders. “We don’t know everything yet. I mean, he’s alive. He’ll recover, but they’re checking him over for internal injuries now.”
“Marco, are you okay?” His friend’s eyes were rimmed with red and bloodshot.
Marco shrugged, despair lining his face. “I don’t know, man. We just ran into each other and started fighting like we always do. Mostly about her new boyfriend and her bailing on her band. You know, I always thought we’d end up okay. That she’d come back to me eventually. She told me…she…” He bowed his head and breathed in and out deeply. Bowen hugged his friend.
“I’m so sorry, man. I wish I could do something…say something to help.” Marco pulled back, thanked him, and went to sit in one of the plastic chairs, which looked like a kid’s chair beneath his large friend.
“Did you call everyone? His brother?” Bowen asked.
“James is somewhere back east working on some project.” Nathan sneered. Conner’s brother James was not anyone’s favorite in their group. Conner’s brother was a user, the kind who produced rose-scented shit despite whatever fucked-up thing he was involved in. Conner was the one who did right by their family, stood by their aunt Sunny—Elena’s much older sister—as her mind slowly betrayed her.
“Fuck James. We’ll take care of Conner,” Nathan mumbled.
Right then Jax and Jami rushed into the small waiting room followed closely by Jax’s sister, the guitar player for Manix Curse, Mandi. Mandi’s short pink hair was tousled and she looked young, almost childlike, without any makeup and her Hello Kitty pajamas still on. He noticed her eyes were puffy and red before she ran straight to him and wrapped her arms around his middle. He didn’t want to let go of Gabby, but she pulled away and he caught her sad smile before she turned away and went to Jami and Jax. He heard her softly explaining what Nathan, Joe, and Tony had shared.