by Tessa Bailey
Suddenly, Bowen’s body started shaking. It alarmed her at first until she realized he was laughing. “What?”
“You’re not even going to believe me.”
After everything he’d just told her? “Try me.”
He gripped her shoulders and turned her around slowly. “Don’t gawk, Ladybug.”
“I don’t gaw—” She never finished her sentence. Walking down the boardwalk, looking righteous and militant, was a pack of nuns. “No way.”
“Way.”
She dropped back onto the bench in a fit of laughter, Bowen watching her with an amused expression. Sera hid her face in her hands, hoping the nuns would pass by quickly, but somehow knew Bowen wouldn’t be able to let that happen. And she was right. As the nuns drew even with their bench, he let out a loud whistle.
“Sisters.” He leaned back on the railing like a lazy cat and threw them a wink. “You’re looking extra lovely today. Put in a good word with the big guy for me, would ya?”
As Sera buried her face back in her hands with a groan, she swore she heard one of them giggle.
Chapter Thirteen
I want to stay just like this forever. With Sera leaning against the railing in front of Bowen, wind lifting her hair off her shoulders, carrying her scent up to his nose. If only he weren’t shielding her back with his body on the off chance someone decided to take a shot at her, it would be perfect. An ache sprang to life behind his eyes at the thought of her being hit, falling to the ground, while he stood there helpless. It was fast becoming his worst nightmare, one replaying itself over and over since this morning.
Connor hadn’t followed them, he’d made sure of it. But he still didn’t plan on taking any chances with Sera’s life. What conclusions had the guy drawn from what he’d seen? If Bowen had judged Connor correctly, he didn’t miss a thing. His other judgment, that Connor wouldn’t do anything to harm Sera after she’d saved his life…he wasn’t so sure about that anymore. Working for a man like Hogan, hell, being related to him, would harden a man over time. To go from the military to street muscle meant he’d done something to fall far. Despite his good gut feeling about the guy, Bowen had never trusted him. He didn’t trust anybody. But now, after that look Connor had given him as he drove past, he’d graduated to a direct threat.
He’d been frantic to get her out of his neighborhood. Then as they drove down the parkway, he’d experienced the pressing urge to keep driving. Past Coney Island, out of Brooklyn. If he thought she wouldn’t object, he might have actually done it. After seeing Connor this morning, he’d almost called Troy back and begged him to come get Sera out. To put her in a safe house somewhere no one could find her; screw the precious ledger the commissioner wanted. Then he’d realized what that meant. It meant they’d take her away from him. Forever. When it came down to it, would he keep her in jeopardy just to keep her in Brooklyn a little longer? God, he didn’t know. The thought of not having her within reach caused nausea to rise in his throat. She was heaven propped against his chest, such a contrast to the cold metal of the gun at the small of his back. Two sides of the same coin. Good and evil. Which was he?
When Bowen heard the food stands and amusement park rides open behind them, he took her hand and walked her toward a warehouse-size building in the center of the attractions. With the beach getting busier, he wanted to get her indoors.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Yes.”
He squeezed her hand in thanks, trying not to think about what would happen to that trust when she found out he was keeping such a huge secret from her. As soon as the four walls of the massive video arcade surrounded them, a little bit of his tension faded. “How do you feel about air hockey?”
A mischievous smile played around her lips, making him want to kiss the breath out of her. “Oh, I feel pretty good about it.”
Twenty minutes later, they were tied at two games apiece. He could not wipe the stupid grin off his face. She’d turned out to be a little competitor, his Sera. Having ditched school as a kid in favor of the arcade countless times, he’d played more than his fair share of air hockey. Fighting had kicked his reflexes up another notch, making him unbeatable. Sera was giving him a legitimate run for his money, and he wasn’t taking it easy on her.
“Who taught you how to play? Don’t tell me the nuns, I won’t believe you.”
Her smile was so gorgeous it made his stomach ache. “My brother and I used to play. When my…family came to visit us at school. They’d take us to lunch and the arcade. Had to drag us away from the table.”
“Visit you?” He dropped two quarters into the slot. “How far away was college?”
She didn’t answer right away. “Massachusetts. From third grade up, actually. At least for me. My brother was older.”
“What?” When his fingers started to hurt, he realized he was squeezing the mallet in his hand. “Why would they send you that far away?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She put on a brave smile. “Anyway, I can just tell you’re stalling to delay your inevitable loss.”
All this time, he’d pictured her childhood filled with barbecues and pet kittens. Knowing it wasn’t, knowing she’d been sent away and left on her own, reminded him he didn’t know enough about her. And if he asked, all he would get was her cover story, which he’d already memorized. She wouldn’t tell him anything about her parents, her upbringing. Suddenly it felt unacceptable that he didn’t know every single detail about her.
She tapped her mallet against her thigh, those big brown eyes practically begging him for a distraction from the subject. “Bowen?”
“You’re right.” He cleared the rust out of his throat. “I’m shaking in my boots, Ladybug.”
“Are you patronizing me now? That’s not a good strategy with me.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” He sent the puck flying across the table. “I’m all about strategy when it comes to you.”
“Is that right? You seem to be doing well so far.”
“I can do even better.”
Jesus, he didn’t even know if they were talking about the same thing anymore, but the challenge in her voice was making his dick hard. Every time she slapped the puck back in his direction, her tits bounced underneath her dress. Her white teeth were sunk into that full lower lip as she bent over the table. It was a fucking shame he wasn’t standing behind her. The backs of her thighs would be exposed, flashing every time her hips bumped the table. Dammit, he couldn’t concentrate anymore.
Right on cue, she scored on him. “Hey, you want to wake up and give me a decent game?”
God, she was cute. “I wanted you to get at least one point before I smoked you.”
“All right, big talker. Show, don’t tell.”
Taking advantage of her distraction, he knocked the puck off the rail and scored, laughing at her look of outrage. “Whoever wins picks what we do next.”
“That’s a pretty broad wager.”
“Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.”
Yes, you will. With what he had in mind, no way was he losing. She put up a good fight, but in the end, he won by two points. No sooner had the puck been swallowed by the machine, Bowen circled the table and dragged her up against him. Both hands went to her ass, depositing her on the edge of the table. Her head tipped back as he kissed her, as if she’d expected it. Had been dying for it, just like him. They were in a dark corner of the mostly empty arcade, but he needed to get her somewhere more private. Pulling away wasn’t easy when his body demanded he step between those thighs and take the hard, driving fuck he needed.
He jerked away from her with a growl. “Come on, my choice.” After checking to make sure no one was watching, he tugged her off the table and led her across the arcade to the photo booth he’d spotted while they played.
“Bowen.” She tried to slow him down. “I don’t like having my picture taken.”
Rig
ht. Probably rule number one for an undercover cop. Still, he needed something he could use to remember today. So if one day he woke up and she wasn’t there, he would know she hadn’t been a dream. They stopped outside the booth. “Make an exception for me?”
She looked conflicted, but eventually nodded once. Without giving her a chance to change her mind, he ducked and led her inside, closing the curtain behind them. When she dug into her pocket for change, he shook his head.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” He sat down on the stool and settled her on his lap facing away from him, loving the little gasp she let slip when her ass pressed down against his erection. Desperate to taste her skin, he wrapped her hair around his fist and tilted her head to the side, tongue licking up the side of her neck to taste ocean air and sunlight. When he snapped his teeth down on her ear, she jumped a little and came down hard on his cock, making his vision dull. “Feel me? I need to be sucked off again by that pretty pink mouth. You going to do it for me again later?”
Her breath rushed out. “Yes. I want to.”
“Loved how I tasted, didn’t you?” He placed a hand on the inside of her knee, drawing slow patterns with his fingers. “Don’t worry, you’ll taste it again soon. If I wasn’t dying to touch between your legs, I’d put you on your knees right now and tell you to open your mouth for it.”
Her bare thighs rested on his, so when he spread his legs, the space between her legs widened, too, giving him ample access. He could tell having her legs open wide excited her; the hips suddenly writhing in his lap told him so.
“Quit it, baby,” he growled at her neck. “I’m already fucking insane for you. Don’t make it worse.”
“Touch me, please.”
Christ, he couldn’t deny her anything under normal circumstances, but when she begged in that husky voice, the need to please her became his sole mission in life. His hand traveled the remaining distance to the barrier of her panties, cupping her and squeezing once. She moaned and tossed her head back to rest on his shoulder, thighs flexing on top of his. He opened his mouth against her ear and breathed with her, his fingers slipping beneath the cotton of her underwear.
What he found made his cock swell painfully in his jeans. “Jesus. How long has your pussy been this wet?”
“I-I don’t know.”
His tongue teased her earlobe. “Who made it wet?”
“You.” She whimpered. “You did.”
“Why? How?” He didn’t ask out of vanity. No, he needed to know so he could keep doing it. Find out what turned her on and become the only one who did it right. He expected her to say the way you touch me. Or it happens when you kiss my neck. But he never expected the actual answer she gave.
“You don’t have to do anything.” Lust-drugged eyes met his as she lifted her hands, sliding her fingers into his hair. “It’s just you. Being with you. Everything about you does this to me.”
His heart rate skyrocketed, pounding furiously against his rib cage, trying to free itself so it could lie bleeding at her feet. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. She’d opened a hole in his chest and if he thought too hard about what she’d said, it might bury him alive. “Tell me I’m your man, Sera,” he demanded.
“You’re my man,” she rasped, rocking her hips. “Please, Bowen.”
“I love turning you into a little beggar.” He hated himself for needing to make this about sex, but it couldn’t be helped. That was where his confidence lay. Not in beautiful words or promises. The things she deserved. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he traced her damp seam with his middle finger. “What were you thinking about? That day at the beach, looking at those shirtless motherfuckers?”
“I…nothing. I don’t know.”
“Nothing?” Bowen knew his jealousy was irrational. It didn’t matter. Every emotion amplified itself where she was concerned. “Were you hoping they’d try to get under your hiked-up uniform skirt? Were you hoping they’d do this?” He pushed his middle finger past her entrance, both of them groaning in the enclosed space of the photo booth. “Answer me.”
“No. I promise.”
He pumped his finger in and out slowly. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Sera?”
Frantically, she shook her head.
“Who’s the only one who gets under your skirt?”
“You. Just you.”
“That’s right.” He started rolling his hips in time with his fingers, the weight of her gorgeous ass on his lap driving him crazy. If she weren’t a virgin, he would be balls-deep right now. No question. She’d be feeling every inch of his frustration. Knowing he didn’t have much longer before he lost his tenuous hold on control, he brushed his thumb over her clit, making her moan. “Who touches you here?”
“Y-ou do, Bowen.” Her thighs clenched around his hands. “Oh, God.”
He turned his head and captured her mouth in a wild kiss. A kiss so raw and sexual, it shattered something inside him. Fire licked over his skin, engulfing him until he couldn’t see his way free. He ached. He ached so bad. For more. Everything. Touching her with his hand suddenly wasn’t enough. He needed more. No, no, you can’t. You can’t have her, you bastard. Especially here, like this. But he needed something, needed to get closer. Before he knew his own intentions, he surged off the stool and pushed her against the wall of the photo booth, already tugging the panties down her legs.
“Baby, you trust me?” He barely recognized his own voice. “Please say yes.”
“Yes.”
He’d never seen anything in his life as hot as Sera, hands braced on the wall, underwear around her knees. The sound of the zipper of his jeans being pulled down made her moan and that reaction somehow drove his already blistering need higher. “Push your ass up and spread your legs,” he directed her. “I won’t take you, but when you come I need to feel it where I hurt.”
When her sweet ass perked up, Bowen gave in to the urge to smack it. Would have done it again, but her hands were flexing impatiently on the wall, desperate noises falling from her lips. He couldn’t leave her unfinished any longer. It was killing him. He took his heavy arousal in his hand, gritting his teeth as he led it between her legs. When his hard length slipped against her bare pussy, without a single barrier between them, his knees almost gave out. He had to do this quick or being inside her would become a necessity.
“Bowen, hurry. Please.”
“Shh. I’m going to take care of you so good. You fucking know I am.” He found her clit with the head of his cock and picked up where his hand had left off, rubbing quick, tight circles around her sensitive nub. It felt like heaven and hell. The most painful torture he could have devised for himself and yet he would kill anyone who tried to stop this from happening. “Come on, I want to feel that wet little shake of yours. The one I tasted with my mouth last night. Tasted so damn good, baby.”
“Oh, God…I’m going to—”
“Good girl, let it go. All over your man.”
Bowen got a hand over her mouth just in time to catch her hoarse cry. Pride and pain dueled inside him, common sense trying to battle its way to the surface. The job was done for him when he heard loud talking outside the booth. Immediately, his hands flew to Sera, tugging her panties back into place. Then in a movement so painful he wanted to shout every obscenity in the book, he zipped his jeans back into place over his raging erection. Drawing in deep breaths, he fell back onto the stool, taking Sera with him.
Just as two preteen boys yanked open the curtain.
“We’ll be out in a minute.” He jerked his thumb at them. “Scram.”
The curtain fell back down, but not before he heard, “Bro, they was totally screwing in there.”
I wish, kid.
Bowen turned back to find Sera watching him, chewing on her bottom lip. “You okay?”
His breath shuddered out. “I’m pretty damn far from okay, Ladybug.”
Sera’s lips trembled, he suspected with the need to laugh. Instead, she reached into her purse and removed
a couple dollar bills, feeding them into the slot.
“Smile.”
Chapter Fourteen
By the time Bowen and Sera dragged themselves away from the boardwalk, the sun had started dipping low in the distance, forming light patterns on the water. They’d collected so many tickets from winning arcade games, they’d started looping them around their necks like scarves. After lugging the tangled heaps to the counter, they’d agreed to exchange the tickets for the ugliest prize they could find, making Bowen the proud new owner of a fringed leather vest that said “Greased Lightning” on the back.
He never wanted to leave. As they drove back toward Bensonhurst, reality intruding with every mile, he wanted to whip the car around and go back to Coney Island. He wanted to stay there in the sunshine with Sera playing stupid games and riding kiddie rides they were way too old to ride. For this one too-brief day, he’d been someone else. Someone better. But as soon as the streets became familiar again, passing along the outside of his window, he turned back into his father, heir to the criminal throne. A throne of garbage and barbed wire. One he didn’t want, but didn’t know how to separate from.
As they pulled up in front of his building, his cell phone buzzed in the cupholder. He checked the screen and cursed. Wayne. The last person he wanted to talk to with Sera sitting beside him, head lolling against the seat drowsily. Trusting him to get her home safe. All day long, they’d been a normal couple, but answering this call would end that with a quickness. Still, Wayne never let himself be avoided for long, and speaking to him over the phone was better than in person.
He pressed the talk button with a sigh. “Yeah?”
Loud music and voices greeted him before the older man spoke. “Now, that ain’t no way to answer the phone.”
Bowen ignored the pinch of irritation. He’d stopped taking Wayne’s bullshit last time they spoke, and he couldn’t take a step back now. “Hell, I probably use the wrong fork in restaurants, too, Wayne. Is this a fucking etiquette lesson? I’m busy.”