by Tessa Bailey
Bowen held his breath as if he couldn’t quite believe she were real, then he hardened his jaw and slowly dragged his cut body higher, higher, against hers. Muscles slid over curves, drawing panting breaths from both of them, until he could kneel above her. His knees were on either side of her head, straddling her, in the most intimate position she could have imagined.
Bowen undid his belt and unzipped his jeans with shaky hands. “You think I’m noble enough to say no to that? When I know what your mouth can do?” He freed himself from his jeans, biting his lip on a groan, and held his swollen flesh just above her parted lips. “If you want it so bad, baby, lick for it. The way you were licking those pretty lips when I was trying to concentrate. Now, Sera.”
His desperation, his harsh words, flooded her with desire, and she didn’t hesitate to do as he asked. She swirled her tongue around the head, then traveled lower to lick him slowly, base to tip. All the while, she kept her eyes trained on him, his throaty sounds and panting breaths ratcheting her desire up until her hands clawed at the powerful thighs bracketing her head.
“Ask for it, now.” He rubbed the smooth head against the seam of her lips. “Say, please, Bowen. I want you to own my mouth. Make it yours.”
She repeated the words back in a rush. Not wanting to wait another second to drive him out of his mind, she wrapped her hand around his arousal and guided him into her mouth. She pulled on him deeply, reacquainting herself with his taste, his texture, his size. Above her head, she heard his palms slap down on the floor, putting him on his hands and knees, with only his hardness making contact, dipping into her mouth. It felt illicit and wrong, but she raced toward the promise of a new experience with no fear. Fear didn’t exist with Bowen.
“I’m only going to give you what I know you can take, baby.” His voice sounded like gravel. “Tell me you trust me.”
He lifted himself away long enough for her to answer. “I trust you, Bowen.”
Slowly, he lowered his body again, his rigid length pushing through her lips. “Fuck, fuck. I shouldn’t be doing this. Not with my girl.” He pumped himself into her mouth with shallow thrusts, so much restraint behind them she knew what an effort he made to hold back. “Oh, God. Make me stop.”
Instead, she tightened her lips around him and urged him deeper with a hand on his ass. Her eyes teared a little when he reached the back of her throat, but she took a deep breath through her nose as he withdrew, and focused on Bowen’s reactions to what she was doing. Beneath her hands, his muscles flexed; filthy curses fell from his lips every time she sucked him deeper. It only served to drive her need to please higher until she’d taken all of him and he was able to enter her throat fully.
His inner thighs spasmed against her ears as he pushed deep and held. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. You’ve got all of me in that perfect mouth. I can’t…I’m dying.” He drew back and slid himself into her throat again with a choked curse. Then again. And again, until it turned rhythmic. “Eyes on your man while you take it, baby. Show me you want it. Show me you want to be as ruined as I am.”
Ruined. Yes, she wanted to be ruined. With him. Forever. Keeping their gazes locked, she dug her nails into his thighs and swallowed around his rigid flesh. His entire body jerked, shuddered. One strong hand slipped on the hardwood floor, forcing him to catch his weight on an elbow, hips never ceasing in their movements.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he said, voice cracking. “Get ready for me, because I am about to fuck you out of your mind.”
Anticipation went wild in her belly, and she didn’t hesitate to follow his command. Her hand slipped down between her thighs and tugged aside her panties. Dampness greeted her, but she didn’t feel an ounce of surprise. Her body flamed, crying out for relief from the heat that continued to build like an inferno. Bowen pushed into her mouth one final time, and then withdrew with a hissed breath, his erection in his fist.
He dragged himself down her body, removing his shirt as he went to reveal a wall of mouthwatering muscle. Sera had no time to prepare herself before he flipped her over onto her stomach and yanked her hips up, putting them level with his own. She heard the metallic rip of the condom wrapper and a grunt as he rolled on their protection. “Hang on. This is going to be rough.”
“Yes, I want it. Please.”
In one dizzying movement, he yanked aside her panties and rammed himself deep. He tested the angle once, twice, then drove deep once more. She felt his hands at her knees, yanking her legs wider. “You want it hard? Give me some room to work then, baby.”
A calloused hand gripped the back of her neck, urging her cheek down onto the floor. The position pushed her bottom high in the air, leaving her open to receive his savage thrusts. “Look at you, skirt up around your waist, still wearing your cock-teasing panties while I satisfy that pussy.”
“Oh, God,” she gasped. Pressure built in her stomach, between her thighs. Close. So close. “Bowen, please.”
“You like it rough, Sera?” He anchored a fist in her hair and quickened his pace. “Did you think I could give it to you any other way after you let me fuck your mouth?”
“No. Yes.” Release screamed closer. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.”
He increased his pace with a growl that told her he was close, too. Knowing his edge loomed sent her spiraling, sobbing into the hard floor as pleasure overtook her. He sank deep one final time, shaking against her as he came, a litany of curses echoing through the room.
When she expected him to collapse onto her back, he surprised her by turning her around and gathering her close, so close she could hardly breathe. His mouth moved in her hair, hands stroking along every inch of her skin. Twice, she sensed him start to speak, then stop. Finally, he picked her up and settled her into his bed without losing contact. After he disposed of their protection in the bedside wastebasket, they lay there in a sweaty tangle of limbs, regaining their bearings for a time. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep, lulled by the sound of Bowen’s heartbeat knocking in his chest.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Seraphina.
Bowen sprang awake in bed, his lungs seizing with the need for oxygen. Breathe, breathe. No, he wouldn’t allow himself a breath until he touched Sera. His hands tore through the tangle of sheets, searching for her mass of brown hair. No matter that he could feel warm, naked skin pressed against him, after the things he’d dreamed, he needed to get eyes on her.
There. She was there. Air infiltrated his chest, twining with something far more drastic than relief. I love her. I love her too much. The realization didn’t come as a surprise. He’d seen this coming since the first night. Maybe he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge it because she’d always planned on leaving. Now that she didn’t want to leave, the emotions he’d kept at bay came flooding in until his heart bobbed among them like a buoy.
She practically glowed in the predawn light filtering in through his single window. Her mouth, that unbelievable mouth, grew stubborn when she slept, lips pursed as if ready to argue. Damn, he liked that. He wanted to kiss her mouth until it softened for him, but then he’d lose this chance to savor waking up with her in his bed for the first time. Hair he’d abused with his hands all night, directing her up, down, sideways, lay in a tumble on his pillow. He’d been rough as hell with her, but at some point during the night, he’d stopped feeling like a corrupter of innocence. It might have had something to do with Sera’s confidence growing every time he took her. She’d learned quickly how to turn him into a begging mess. As if he hadn’t been one for her all along.
Is this how you like me to touch you, Bowen?
Faster?
Like this?
You feel so good. So hard.
Can I please put you in my mouth again?
Apparently he’d done something right in his life. As an added bonus, this beautiful, caring, intelligent girl whom he’d walk through fire for also loved giving him head. Go fucking figure.
Loath to wake her but physically incapable
of not touching her, he ran his thumb over her arched eyebrow and watched the stubbornness fade from her mouth. One gorgeous brown eye popped open, followed by the other. She woke up one eye at a time. He loved knowing that about her. Wanted to know everything. He would know everything, starting today.
No more secrets, no more pretending the obstacles between them didn’t exist. Every moment they spent tiptoeing through this minefield surrounding them, she was in danger. She wanted to stay with him and she would get what she wanted. Simple as that. The fact that her presence in his life would make it worth living came secondary. As her face transformed with sleepy awareness, he wondered if she knew. That he loved her. Would kill for her. That even though her naked breasts were making his dick hard, he simultaneously wanted to hide her under the covers and guard her.
“Too much, Sera. You make me feel too much.”
Her smile dipped at the edges. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Not as long as you’re with me to shoulder some of it. Sometimes I get worried I’m not enough to carry it all.”
”You’re not the only one who feels too much.” Her gaze searched his. “You have to help me, too.”
A dizzying rush of love careered through him. He couldn’t see anything but her, felt nothing but her body beneath him, molding to his so perfectly. Perfect. This is perfect. He took her wrists and pinned them above her head on the pillow. “Then let me ease you now, baby.”
A shrill series of beeps broke the spell she’d placed him under. It took Bowen a moment to place the sound, his head was so fogged with Sera. His phone. It vibrated and danced on the side table next to his bed. Lust slowly dissipated at the implications of a 6:00 a.m. phone call. No good news came this early in the morning. Sera’s soft form tensing beneath him told Bowen she’d come to the same conclusion.
Knowing he’d never be able to concentrate while lying cradled between her thighs, he reluctantly sat up and snatched up the phone. When he read the caller ID, it felt as though he’d been kicked in the ribs. Rikers Island correctional facility. “Hello?”
“Bowen Driscol?”
A man’s clipped voice. Not his father’s, as he’d been expecting. What did it mean that someone else was calling? “One and the same,” he answered slowly.
“Your father has been taken to the infirmary. We’re obligated to inform the closest family member.” The caller paused, as if letting that news sink in. It didn’t. “Details aren’t available right now, but we do know he had an altercation with another prisoner. His wounds are serious enough that you should try to make it here as soon as possible.”
“Fine.” He hung up the phone and breathed deeply through his nose, trying not to lose the contents of his stomach. His mind whirled, trying to find detachment so he could get to his feet and move. But all he could come up with was guilt. In order to protect his sister, he’d played a part in putting his father away. A small part, but a part nonetheless. Now Lenny could die because of it. No matter that their relationship bordered on hostile. They were still blood.
Sera rubbed circles into his back, her lack of questions telling him she’d heard everything. “Bowen,” she said, softly. “Get dressed. I’ll come with you.”
He shot to his feet, already trying to come up with an alternative. Her safety came before everything else. Yes, even Lenny. “Are you out of your mind?” In the dimness, he searched for the jeans he’d discarded the night before, tugging them on with jerky movements. “Even if the idea of you in that place didn’t make me feel sick, I can’t bring an undercover cop around my father. Not to mention every other motherfucker who’s taken a shiv this week. What if someone recognized you?”
“No one will recognize me.” She rose from the bed, her naked body still flushed from his touch. He had to pause in the act of dragging on his T-shirt to watch her approach, she was so goddamn beautiful. How could this girl be in his room? Listening to his foul words and still wanting him?
“You’re not coming with me.”
She obviously wanted to argue, wheels turning behind her expressive eyes. “You realize the only other option is to leave me alone here?”
“No, it’s not,” he bit off. “I’ll take you to Troy and Ruby.”
Fear coated her expression. Fear? His body had a physical reaction to seeing it on her face. “No, Bowen. No cops.”
“What happened last night, Ladybug?” He had to work to keep his voice even. “Before you came back to me?”
She looked down at the ground, obviously still not ready to talk about it. Her unwillingness to confide in him hurt. Badly. He watched as she changed tactics, tried to distract him. Even though he knew her game, he also knew it would work. She slipped her arms around his neck and held him tight. “No one can protect me like you. If you want me to stay in the car, I will, okay? I don’t want to be pawned off on someone else.”
Her compact curves felt too good against his, her confidence in him heady. Did he want to leave her side for one single second? Hell no. She would be safest with him. And if he allowed himself to see reason, the parking lot of a correctional institution might be safer for her than Bensonhurst right now.
“All right.” His fingers traced down the slope of her back. “Go ahead and take a shower. Much as I like having my scent all over you, I want you comfortable.”
“Bowen,” she murmured into his chest. “Today. We’ll talk about everything today, okay? That’s a promise.”
He forced himself to release her, watching until she disappeared into the bathroom.
Bowen walked down the hallway of the infirmary, where the harried nurse had directed him. He didn’t spend a lot of time in hospitals, but he imagined the Rikers Island infirmary looked nothing like the fancy Manhattan ones most men his age went to to visit their fathers. Lenny would hate being here, would consider any kind of care performed on his behalf as a weakness. A lessening of his manhood. The number of times he’d resisted medical attention reminded Bowen he’d inherited at least a small part of Lenny. Right at this moment, with his potential fate staring him in the face, it was an unwelcome thought.
To his left, two male nurses who looked more like nightclub bouncers played checkers. They eyed him lazily as he passed, as if they knew something he didn’t. It made him itch between his shoulder blades, urged him to turn around and leave this place so he could focus on getting Sera somewhere safe. Somewhere they could be together without looking over their shoulders as they walked down the street.
He stopped in front of the hospital room door he’d been sent to, bracing himself for what he would see on the other side. A man who had once been his hero and tormentor, hooked up to machines?
Bowen pushed open the door and came to a halt. Lenny sat in a chair wearing street clothes, cursing at the remote control he had pointed at the television. The picture of health, not a sign of injury marred his robust frame. First came the relief, but rage followed closely on its heels.
“Took you long enough,” Lenny remarked casually, without even bothering to look at him. “Chrissakes, daytime television sucks. You know what I miss most about being on the outside? HBO. Miss it even more than you, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.” Bowen yanked the door closed behind him. “What the fuck is this?”
“This? This is a favor I called in.” Lenny tossed the remote onto the unused hospital bed. “I knew I wouldn’t get you down here any other way. Still got a soft spot for your old man?”
“Maybe I just came down to make sure you were dead.”
“And if I wasn’t? Were you going to finish the job?” Lenny laughed. “Sorry to disappoint. The only thing capable of killing me on the inside is the food.”
Bowen crossed his arms impatiently. “Explain yourself or I’m out. A reunion wasn’t on my to-do list for the day.”
“What was on your to-do list, son? Besides the waitress.” He used his fingers to symbolize quotation marks as he said the word “waitress.�
�� White-hot heat punctured Bowen’s chest, traveling down his entire body. Panic, fury, denial hit him, one by one. When Lenny laughed, Bowen knew the fire burning out of control inside him was showing on his face. How much did his father know? Did he know Sera was a cop? Or was it merely speculation passed on from a suspicious Wayne?
He had to play this exactly right. “Let me ask you a question. When did you and Wayne become so fascinated by what chick I’m bagging?”
Lenny stood slowly, his trademark scorn contorting his features. There he is, my father. This is him, not the affable joker I walked in on. “I’ll tell you when. Since you let a man get away with a blatant show of disrespect. Let him come into our neighborhood and spit where you live. And you let him walk?”
Bowen said nothing. Lenny was referring to the night he’d gone to retaliate for what had happened outside Marco’s. The night Sera had come dangerously close to being taken. Hurt. Ironically, he never wanted to kill a man as much as he had that night, but the promise of her goodness had miraculously pulled him back.
“Jesus.” Lenny paced. “You know what they’re saying about you?”
“You think I give a fuck?” Bowen shot back. “We could have had this little heart-to-heart over the phone.”
“No, we couldn’t have. I needed to look you in the face to make sure you understand.”
“Understand what exactly?”
Lenny came closer, bringing them toe to toe. “I won’t be in here forever. Oh, no. When I get out, if my operation has been taken over by some muscle-head with shit for brains, I will make you sorry.” He swiped a hand over his mouth. “Those men won’t listen to Wayne. He doesn’t have the fight to back up his mouth. Not like you.”
“Be careful, there might have been a compliment in there somewhere.”