She shrugged, but there was a tension in her that told him just how much he'd cut her. “You're right. I've never stood up for myself, I've never fought back. I always tried to keep the peace and got walked on because of it…It doesn't matter anyway. We need to get home. The kitten needs to be fed and medicated.”
Maybe it was the slamming of the truck door as he closed it for her or the noise from the bar behind him. Regardless, he didn't hear William's approach. When Caroline screamed in warning, he turned, just as the drunk man swung wildly at him with a golf club, undoubtedly retrieved from the back of his Beemer. It missed him by an inch, striking the window and sending a shower of glass over Caroline.
Boone didn't think, he just reacted. Without a second thought, he tackled William to the ground. His fist connected solidly with the other man's jaw as they landed on the pavement. He didn't stop with hitting him just once. By the time he realized what he was doing, Caroline was tugging at his arm, trying to hold him back.
“Boone, stop it! Stop it! You're going to kill him!”
Disgusted, Boone got to his feet. His knuckles were split and already bruising. His pulse pounded, blood roaring in his ears, and he whirled on her. “Why the fuck do you care? He's an asshole who cheated on you and ruined your life!”
“You are being such a—such a fucking idiot!” she yelled back. “Yes! There. I said it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You are a fucking idiot!”
To his knowledge, Caroline had never uttered that word. “What?”
“I didn't stop you for his benefit, you jackass!” she shouted.
Charlie and Lucy came running, the minivan idling in the parking lot behind them.
“Shit,” Charlie said. “You need to get the hell out of here, and you need to do it now. The cops can't be far off.”
“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Boone asked.
Lucy walked over to William, who was moaning on the ground.
“He broke my fucking nose!”
She shrugged. “It wasn't a very attractive nose anyway. It might improve it. As for the hospital, if he can complain, I don't think the damage is too bad. Just go. We'll get his worthless ass home to his father. I doubt they'd want the cops involved either since he is out on bail!”
Boone took off his jacket and moved toward the truck. Using the bunched fabric, he swept as much glass from the seat as possible. “Get in, but be careful.”
~*~*~
Caroline climbed into the truck for the second time. Boone had gotten rid of most of the glass on the seat, but there were still shards in her clothes and in her hair. Moving gingerly, she fastened the seat belt as he slid behind the wheel.
They said nothing as he drove them back toward Main Street and the tiny apartment they shared. She'd overreacted back there, screaming at him like a fool. But she'd been scared, both of his temper and that a part of her was glorying in the fact he was beating William to a bloody pulp.
Boone, she admitted, terrified her in general. Admitting the truth, that she wanted him, was a terrifying prospect. What if she couldn't live up to the glorified image he held of her? What if he when he got to know the real her, the school boy crush simply withered and died?
When they reached the apartment, he once again came around and opened the door for her. Considering that it no longer had a window, the gentlemanly gesture should have been odd. But it was just Boone. He hadn't grown up with the money or the connections either she or William had, but in terms of being a gentleman, he had William beat hands down.
Once inside, she went immediately to the small pen they'd created for the kitten. The tiny little thing was throwing a gigantic fit, meowing as loudly and angrily as its little body would allow.
“Someone is not happy!” she cooed, lifting it up and tucking it against her chest. Immediately, the kitten began to purr, its little body vibrating with the heavy thrum. “You still need a name.”
Boone had disappeared into his bedroom, only to reemerge with fresh clothes in his hands. The bathroom door slammed loudly behind him, and the sound of the shower running gave the kitten a run for its money.
“Let's get you fed and medicated,” Caroline said, continuing to talk to the kitten as if it understood every word she said.
Several spoonfuls of wet cat food later, accompanied by several syringes of water, she put the ointment on the kitten's eyes and put her back in her little pen. The shower turned off, and she could hear Boone moving around in the bathroom. There was a loud crash followed by a string of curses. Recalling the shape his hands had been in, Caroline decided it was time to beard the lion in his den.
Knocking softly on the door, she called, “Boone, are you okay?”
“Just go away, dammit!” The closed door muffled his surly response.
“Boone, I'm coming in.”
“No!”
Caroline ignored his protest and opened the door. He stood there, wearing only a pair of ancient sweat pants and nothing else. She could see the broad expanse of his back, each muscle perfectly defined, rippling as he tensed. The tribal tattoos that curved around his shoulders were both fierce and strangely beautiful. But it was the other tattoo that caught her eye.
Reversed by the mirror, she could still clearly make out her name emblazoned across his chest. That, she thought, would require some further explanation. But for the moment, there were other matters to attend to. The first aid kit was spilled across the counter as Boone attempted to treat the wounds to his dominant hand.
“Need a little help?” she asked.
“Does it come with a lecture?” he shot back. Clearly, he was still spoiling for a fight.
“No,” she said evenly, though it was difficult since being near him left her breathless. “Just an extra pair of hands.”
Ignoring her shaking hands and the butterflies that were doing swan dives in her stomach, she moved past him to the sink and washed her hands. When she was done, she picked up the small bottle of antiseptic and took his hand in hers. “This will probably sting.”
“I'm getting used to that with you…stinging.”
“I didn't come in here to fight with you. I came in here because I thought you needed my help,” she replied, a snap to her voice. “What exactly am I supposed to apologize for? Marrying William? Not waiting for you to grow up?”
He inhaled deeply, tipped his head back, and then let it out on a heavy sigh. “I don't know. I'm in a shitty mood, Caroline, and I'm taking it out on you.”
Carefully dabbing the antiseptic onto one of the many cuts that covered his knuckles, she offered up the only thing she could. “I can't help it that you were younger than me and that I, apparently stupidly, thought you'd get over having a crush on me. I never thought it was anything more than that.”
“Just forget it, alright?”
“That's a little hard to do,” she answered. Lifting her hand, she placed the pads of her fingers on the tattoo of her name. It was old, faded in places, bisected by a thin scar in others. “Apparently, you haven't.”
His hand came up, covering hers, stilling the movement of her fingers. Caroline glanced up, meeting his gaze. There was something dark in him, dangerous, and it appealed to her more than she wanted to admit.
“I was young and stupid…and drunk,” he added. “My buddy convinced me that if I wanted to prove my love to you, putting your name on my chest was the way to go. But then I got deployed, and by the time I made it home to show you anything, you were married to William.”
“Boone—”
“Let me finish,” he said. “I get it. I do. I was just your friend's kid brother. You never saw me that way, never thought of me that way. But that was then, and the only thing I care about is how you see me now.”
The tiny room suddenly seemed even smaller. Standing there with her hand trapped against the heated skin of his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath her palm, she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. But doubt and fear clawed at her. Years of having her father and William
tearing her down reared their ugly head.
“It doesn't matter to you?”
“What?” he asked softly, even as he moved closer, crowding against her.
“That I'm not the size I was in high school? That I could starve myself every day and never be that size again?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Boone moved again, easing forward until their bodies were pressed together, chest to chest and hip to hip. There was no hiding the raging hard-on cradled against the softness of her belly. “Does it feel like I mind?”
Caroline looked up at him, wide-eyed. “No.”
“I don't,” he said. “I couldn't care less. The only problem I have with your body is that right now it's covered.”
“How do you plan to fix that?”
“Not me. You. Take your sweater off,” he said. It was a challenge for her, he knew that. But he also knew that if she didn't own it, if she didn't accept in that moment that he wanted her just the way she was, she never would.
“Maybe we should go to the bedroom.”
He chuckled. “So you can convince me to turn off the lights? No, Caroline. I want to see you. Every inch.”
Her lips quirked up in a sardonic smile, but her eyes were filled with pain. “There are a lot of inches.”
“And I plan to worship every one of them. Trust me?”
“Maybe.”
He smiled at her doubtful tone. “You've always been beautiful to me, Caroline. You always will. Inside and out.”
She swayed toward him, her breasts brushing against his chest, and her lips parted in invitation. Boone wasted no time accepting her offer.
It wasn't a soft or gentle kiss. It was filled with all the longing, the frustration, and the need that had eaten away at him for years. His mouth moved hers forcefully, mapping every curve and contour of her full lips. Sweeping his tongue inside the softness of her mouth, it was a blatantly carnal invasion.
Heat flared, blazing inside him. Blood rushed through his veins, his heart pounding as his hands roamed over her. He slid them down her arms to her waist then around to cup the lush curves of her ass. He needed to be closer to her.
Without hesitating, he hoisted her up onto the counter of the small vanity. She squeaked in protest and he ignored it. Moving between her parted knees, he settled against her. His cock pressed against her, the heat scorching even through the layers of clothing. Her thighs hugged his hips as she rocked against him.
“Fuck,” he said through clenched teeth. “You're killing me.”
Rather than wait for her to respond, he gripped the hem of her sweater and tugged it upward. Obediently, she lifted her arms, allowing him to slip it over her head. Tossing it aside, his eyes were drawn to her breasts. They spilled over the top of black, lacy cups, more tempting than anything he'd ever seen.
Dipping his head, he kissed each one, nipping at her skin until she squirmed against him in a way that had them both groaning. Reaching behind her, he unfastened her bra with more speed than finesse before dragging the straps down her arms and sending it sailing to the floor to join her sweater.
Easing back from her slightly, he drank in the sight of her. Pale skin and berry pink nipples begged for his touch. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he kneaded the soft flesh with a firm, gentle touch. She moaned in response and the sound arrowed through him, straight to his cock.
Dipping his head, he captured one taut peak in his mouth. Alternating between gentle licks and the sting of his teeth scraping over it, he felt her tense and shudder. Her back arched, her breasts thrust forward. When her hands slid over his back, her nails scoring his skin as she clung to him, he was filled with such primal need. It was all he could do not to just strip her pants from her and take her right there.
“If you're going to stop me,” he murmured against her skin, “do it now.”
“No stopping,” she replied breathlessly. “No interruptions. Just you and me.”
Shifting slightly, he favored the other taut peak of her breast with similar treatment. Each touch aroused them both until the sound of their ragged breathing and Caroline's soft moans filled the room.
“Bed,” she said, softly. “Take me to bed.”
“The lights stay on…I've waited eighteen years for this.”
She nodded her agreement, though he could see hesitation in her eyes. Taking her by the hand, he led her toward his room, toward the bed where he'd lain awake thinking of her since he'd come back home.
She settled on the edge of the bed, removing the black boots she wore. When they were out of the way, he moved toward her, pressing her back, coming down on top of her. Feeling the softness of her body against him, beneath him, was every fantasy he'd ever had, but so much better.
He kissed her lips, the soft curve of her jaw, along her neck and collarbone. Every shiver and sigh was his reward for patience. All the while, his hands roamed over her skin, trailing lightly over her ribs, the softness of her belly, tracing the curve of her waist and the flare of her hips. When he reached for the button of her jeans, she placed her hands over his, but not to stop him. Instead, she completed the task for him, unfastening them. Together, they eased the tight denim over her hips, down her legs, until they fell discarded to the floor. Only her panties remained, black silk against white skin. Reaching for them, he eased them from her, baring her completely.
“I wish,” he said softly, “that you could see yourself the way I do. So perfect…soft, feminine, sexy as hell.”
“I don't need to see it. You make me feel it. But it's not fair that I'm the only one naked here.”
~*~*~
Carolyn couldn't take her eyes off him as Boone rose from the bed. With quick, economical movements, he shed the sweat pants he wore. She didn't have time to study the perfection of him as he climbed back into the bed. But the quick impression of chiseled abs, lean hips, and his heavy erection made her body burn.
She felt hot and achy, desperate for him in a way she'd never been in her life. Sex with William had been more of a chore than anything else. But as Boone moved over her, her thighs parted eagerly, her legs wrapping around him. The hardness of his body, the heat of him against her, was unlike anything she'd ever felt.
The need was like a living thing inside her, scratching and clawing its way to the surface. Her body ached with it. His mouth at her breasts, his hands roaming her body, stoked the fire until she was mindless with it.
“Boone, you're killing me!”
He chuckled. “What's the rush?”
Two could play at that game, she though. Sliding her hand over his ribs, down to his hip, she shifted inward. Closing her fingers around him, feeling the hard length of him in her hand, she stroked him with a brazenness that shocked them both.
“Now you're just playing dirty,” he said, but his voice was rough.
“Is there any other way?”
Caroline was unprepared for Boone's response. He grasped her wrist, pulling her hand away from him. Tugging her hands above her head, he locked one hand about both of her wrists, pinning them in place.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“You wanted to play dirty,” he replied.
She couldn't answer, could do nothing but moan with pleasure as his other hand slid between her parted thighs and stroked her damp flesh. He slipped one finger inside her as his thumb circled her clit. Her back arched and she rocked against him, eager for more.
Caroline could only move against him, her breath ragged and punctuated with soft cries, as he drove her higher. Tension coiled inside her as the heat built. She strained against him, but with her wrists captured in his large hand, she was helpless. It only heightened her desire.
Every knowing stroke of his fingers sent her closer to the edge. When the tension broke, her release swept through her. She literally saw stars. The intensity of it left her shaking and weak as she sobbed his name.
But he left her no opportunity to recover. Her body still quaked with the aftershocks of her orgasm w
hen she felt the blunt head of his arousal against her. A soft sigh escaped her as he entered her. It felt so perfect, so right.
“I feel like I've wanted this my whole life,” he whispered.
She smiled, but tears burned her eyes. “I wasted too much time.”
“We're not wasting it now,” he replied, kissing her softly as he moved within her.
There was no more talking after that. Only the slick heat and building pleasure as he moved within her. She clung to him as the tension built again. He tensed against her, his muscles taut as he fought for control. But control wasn't what she wanted from him. She wanted him as mindless with desire as she was.
Sliding her hands over the firm muscles of his back, she moved lower until she could squeeze his perfectly sculpted ass. With her hands gripping him, pulling him closer, she arched her hips, taking him even deeper. He uttered her name on a harsh groan and thrust deeply inside her. His body tightened, and she felt the hot rush inside her.
She clenched around him, the rhythmic contractions of her climax drawing out the pleasure for them both. He dropped his head, his forehead resting against her shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her breast just above her heart.
“I think that was worth waiting for,” he said.
She smiled. “I think you're right. This is only my second first date in my entire life, but I'm pretty sure this isn't the norm.”
His answering laugh whispered over her skin, making her shiver.
“The date was just a formality, Caroline. You've been mine forever.”
Caroline felt the tears then. They burned her eyes and one slipped between her lashes, but Boone gently wiped away.
“I hope those are good tears,” he said.
“They're the best kind,” she answered. “I thought my life had fallen to pieces, but I just realized it had been in pieces all along. I have never been as happy as I am right now.”
The Seraphina Donavan Collection: Contemporary Page 16