Bowie: The Sinner Saints #5

by Adrienne Bell

  A suspicious gleam lit up her mother’s eyes. “And I care about you too, dear.”

  Charlie nodded. She silently made her way toward the stairs. She kept her mouth shut tight the whole way up, but she was practically shaking with emotion. It wasn’t like her to keep so much inside. He was almost afraid she was going to pop the moment the door to her room clicked shut.

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, she turned away from him. “I think I’ll go take a shower.”

  Bowie nodded. Not that Charlie noticed. She didn’t turn around once to acknowledge him. She just walked in the bathroom and closed the door.

  Bowie let out a long breath as he heard the door lock. A moment later the water turned on. He sat on the edge of the bed. Then he propped his hands on his knees and let his head hang down.

  He drew in a deep breath, and then another. He waited for the familiar, comforting sensation of being left alone with his thoughts for a few moments.

  But the feeling didn’t come.

  Not this time.

  This time there was no comfort in the solitude. There was only loneliness.

  ***

  What the hell was she doing?

  Charlie closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the tiled wall. She’d been standing in the steamy spray of water for over ten minutes now and the answer still wasn’t any clearer.

  Of course, maybe the steam was her problem. Weren’t people supposed to take a cold shower to calm down? Or maybe that was just to cure a case of the hornies.

  Either way. She had them both. Hell, she was seething with practically every emotion that a person could have all at the same time—fear, anger, concern, and lust.

  Out of all of them, the lust was the easiest to focus on.

  At least it was the one she was the most familiar with. Hell, she was used to drooling over the thought of Bowie Tamatoa’s kisses. She practically had it down to an art form.

  Of course, all the other times she’d just been fantasizing. She’d only dreamed what it would be like.

  Now, she knew.

  Dear God, she knew.

  But had anything that she’d felt in Bowie’s kiss been real? Even a sliver of it?

  Of course, there was only one person who knew the answer. The same guy who had shut her down the moment she’d opened her mouth to ask him the question.

  Charlie raised her head. The water hit her full in the face, and, slowly, the solution became crystal clear.

  There was no way around it. She was going to ask him again.

  For real this time.

  She couldn’t let him cut her off, or run away from the question. She couldn’t let him off easy. Not when she was practically burning up inside.

  Sure, she was scared. Sure, it was going to be awkward and weird as hell, but there were just some moments in life a person needed to embrace whether they thought they were ready or not.

  And this was one of them.

  Charlie forced herself to turn around and cut the water. She grabbed a towel and quickly rubbed her hair before wrapping it around her middle. She hastily tucked the end into her cleavage.

  Now or never. She opened the bathroom door. A giant puff of steam rolled out in front of her, and Charlie went with it. She could barely make out Bowie lifting his head from the edge of her bed.

  “Bowie I need to know,” she started before the cloud had even cleared. “Why did you kiss me in the hospital?”

  A half-second later the steam dissipated and she could clearly see Bowie staring at her, his jaw hanging open, his eyes wide. Only then did Charlie realize that maybe this wasn’t the best conversation to start while draped in nothing but a towel.

  ***

  One look at Charlie’s bare, wet shoulders, and Bowie’s mouth went dry. Tiny drops of water fell from the tips of her hair, cascading down over her chest and disappearing between the swell of her barely concealed breasts. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the sight.

  Her legs peeked out from beneath the fluffy, white towel. They looked just as wet. Sure enough she was leaving a small puddle on the carpet.

  It was as if she hadn’t taken the time to dry herself at all. She’d just slung a towel around her wet naked body and rushed out to talk to him about kissing.

  Bowie held back a groan at the picture in his mind.

  Dear God, she was naked under there. Warm and wet and naked.

  He bit the inside of his cheek.

  All he’d have to do was tug on the corner of the towel, just at the top and…

  Bowie shook his head. Hard.

  He shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea. He shouldn’t even allow the picture to pop up in his mind.

  But now that the image was in there, it was digging in its claws and refusing to be tossed aside. What would her bare body look like? How would her skin feel under his hands? What sound would she make when he guided his…

  No.

  He forced his gaze to the floor.

  He was a goddamned master of resisting temptation. He’d managed to go this long without giving in to the desires that haunted him every time he looked at Charlie.

  Of course, she hadn’t been dripping wet and practically naked those other times.

  It didn’t matter. He could still control himself. He had to.

  But how could he, when all he could think about was how much he wanted to cup the back of her neck and kiss her again…and again. About how much he wanted to run his fingertips down the length of her spine, over the swell of her ass, and along her thighs…then between them.

  How he wanted to feel her shiver. Shake against him. Hear her say his name against his ear in breathless gasps as she…

  Dear God, what was he doing?

  Bowie balled his hands into fists at his side. He ground his back teeth together.

  “Bowie,” she prompted him. There was a tiny shiver in her voice now, as though some of her courage was slipping away. “I need to know. Did you kiss me because you saw Trevor, or because you wanted to?”

  A second of silence filled the room, and for the first time in his entire life, Bowie Tamatoa felt like a goddamned coward. Here she was, standing before him, naked and vulnerable, being a thousand times braver than he’d ever had the guts to be.

  He owed her an answer. A real one. An honest answer.

  Bowie felt his heart thunder against his breastbone as he stood up from the bed. His feet moved without thinking. It only took him a second to close the gap between them and slide his fingers through her warm wet mop of hair. He looked into her wide eyes.

  “No one makes me do anything I don’t want to do,” he said.

  “A-Are you saying you wanted to kiss me?”

  There was something about her voice—the tremble that shook her words, the desperate hope that rang through every syllable. It was more than he could take.

  His lips parted, but not to speak. The time for words was over. Hell, they’d never done him much good before. He was content to leave them to the slick talkers of the world—the Masons and the Carters.

  Bowie preferred action. His life was made of deeds not sentiments. He could stand here all night explaining to Charlie every little thing he wanted to do with her…or he could show her.

  He lowered his mouth slowly just in case he’d read the signals wrong. Giving her every opportunity to pull back. To turn away.

  But she didn’t.

  Instead, she lifted up on tiptoes hurrying the contact.

  Bowie’s heart pounded against his breastbone the moment he tasted her again. His hands shook as he tried to hold on to his last shred of control.

  But he was fighting a losing battle. Back at the hospital he’d at least had a chance. They’d been in public, surrounded by people. There was a limit to how far things could go.

  Here, in the locked privacy of her bedroom, there were no such constraints.

  Charlie seemed to know it too. There was no hesitation in her this time. Her kiss was just as hungry as his, just as desp
erate. She lifted her arms and ran her hands over his shoulders, pulling him closer. A moment later, she stumbled back a step.

  “Yes.” The word slipped from Charlie’s lips as her back hit the hard wall. She arched her spine, pressing the length of her body flush against his.

  Bowie’s fingers curled into fists as more of his control slipped away. There was no denying what she wanted. What she craved. He knew because he needed it too.

  Hell, he’d never needed anything…anyone…so badly in his life. Charlie was the only thing he needed. He’d go without water, without air. All that mattered was her.

  So why was he still holding back?

  He opened his eyes and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back. The smooth column of her neck exposed, the swell of her breasts rising from the edge of the towel. All it would take was a single tug and the slight slip of fabric would fall to the floor.

  “Please, Bowie,” she whispered.

  Every part of him hardened. Every. Single. Part.

  “Please.”

  His hands began to shake.

  “A-Are you sure?” Damn. His voice was shaky now. His voice never shook. Never.

  Her lids opened just a crack, revealing a seductive sliver of bright sapphire blue. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

  The coil inside his belly tightened. Dear God, was there any sweeter sound than Charlie’s passion-drenched voice?

  Still, he held back.

  “But…” he hesitated. He swallowed and tried again. “But if we do this there’s no going back to the way things were.”

  “I don’t want to go back,” she said with a shake of her head. “I just want you, Bowie. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  As if to punctuate her point, Charlie slid her hand to the edge of the towel wrapped around her chest and flicked it open.

  Bowie couldn’t help himself. He stepped back, just enough to let gravity work its magic.

  Fire, hotter than any that he’d ever known, ignited inside him. Instantly, his mouth went dry.

  Dear God, she was beautiful.

  Beyond beautiful.

  Her form was strong and slim…and soft in all the right places. He knew she loved to go dancing, to move, and it showed. There was a vibrancy to her body. She practically hummed with life…and resiliency.

  His gaze snapped to the long puckered scar above her left breast—two bullet holes and several more surgical incisions. But the hard red flesh wasn’t ugly. Far from it. It was a badge of strength. Of survival. And what was more beautiful than that?

  Nothing.

  Bowie closed the gap between them. He lowered his lips to the sensitive bit of skin where her neck met her collarbone and was rewarded with a tiny moan.

  Oh, he could do better than that.

  A lot better.

  He lifted his head, and looked her in the eye. “Ready to test just how soundproof this room of yours actually is?”

  ***

  Oh my God.

  Charlie barely had time to suck in a breath before Bowie wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her up.

  High up.

  Her shoulders were still against the wall, but suddenly her palms were pressing against the ceiling as Bowie draped her legs over his shoulders. She locked her arms tight as Bowie’s head slid between her thighs.

  Swinging naked from the ceiling.

  That’s what she’d joked about just a couple days ago. But she wasn’t joking now.

  No way this was happening. Actually happening.

  But it was.

  Oh…

  Charlie’s head fell back. Her eyes flickered closed. Then open again. Her arms shook as her whole body began to tremble at the waves of sensation crashing over her.

  Oh dear God.

  Charlie wasn’t sure if she thought the exclamation or said it aloud. All she knew was that she meant it. She’d never felt anything so good, so right in her whole life.

  His mouth kept moving against the most sensitive part of her, and she was afraid to loosen her grip on the ceiling. Not because she was afraid of falling—deep down, she knew Bowie would never let her fall—but because she was afraid of losing touch with something real, something hard and tangible. She was afraid of falling too deep into Bowie and the feelings he was creating inside her. She was afraid of liking this too much.

  Because dear God, did she like it.

  So damn much.

  So much that she couldn’t hold back her moans any longer. They slipped from her lips. She hissed in breath after breath. Her back arched as control slipped further from her grasp.

  Suddenly, her moans were no longer just indistinct sound. They were pleas. Pleas for more. For so much more. For all of him.

  And it seemed he was listening.

  Charlie heard the click of his belt unfastening.

  Suddenly, his hands were around her waist, and then she was sliding back down the wall. She kept her eyes closed and wrapped her legs around his waist. She sucked in a breath and held it as he pressed the tip of his cock against her opening…but no farther.

  “Bowie,” she begged. “Please.”

  “I don’t have a condom,” he said. “I didn’t believe this was going to happen.”

  “That’s okay. I’m on birth control.” The words rushed out of her mouth. She arched closer, but he still held back.

  “Look at me, Charlie.” His voice was so low and hot that Charlie didn’t even think about resisting.

  She lifted her heavy lids and met his dark gaze.

  “That’s right,” he said. He shifted his hips, then…he slid inside her.

  He went slow. So, damn slow, stretching and filling every bit of her.

  Charlie gripped his shoulders and held on for dear life. Instinctually, her eyes started to close at the sensation, but Bowie wasn’t having any of it.

  “Stay with me,” he growled through gritted teeth.

  His muscles stretched and flexed under her touch.

  Her breathing sped, coming fast and hard as he masterfully ratcheted up the tension inside her. She moaned. Again and again as pleasure overwhelmed her.

  “Look at me when you come.” His gaze was beyond intense. “I want to watch.”

  Those words. Charlie could barely stand it. No one had ever talked to her like this. Hell, no one had ever made love to her like this. Not with such skill and confidence.

  “Bowie.” Yeah, that one she was certain she’d said out loud. Really loud. But she wasn’t sure what she was begging for. She didn’t want to rush a single moment. Hell, she never wanted it to end. But the tension was building up inside her, fast and hot.

  Too fast. Too hot.

  She wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer.

  Charlie curled her fingertips into his shoulder. She grabbed the back of his head. She pulled his forehead close until it rested against hers. She didn’t close her eyes. She didn’t even blink. Not until…

  She shattered into a thousand pieces.

  She clenched tight around him, shuddering as the most brilliant pleasure she’d ever experienced overtook her. She couldn’t fight it, couldn’t temper it. The only thing she could do was let it take her.

  He wrapped his arms fully around her after she came. He supported her languid weight as though it was nothing. He surrounded her with strength, holding her so close that Charlie could feel the hammer of his heart pounding against her breast as he found a new rhythm, a faster one.

  His strokes became urgent, filled with desire. With need.

  Raw pleasure rushed through her as she felt him tense, crushing her body next to his. His face pressed against the top of her head. He shuddered…shook. His cock rocked against the walls of her pussy as a low growl filled the room.

  And he didn’t let go. He continued to hold her close as his breath washed over the top of her head in great puffs. Slowly, the haze of passion dissipated from the room…and he still didn’t move.

  “Bowie.”

&
nbsp; He didn’t answer.

  “Bowie,” she tried again. “Are you going to put me down?”

  “In a second,” he muttered. It was only when those seconds kept ticking by that Charlie realized that he wasn’t letting go because he was afraid to.

  She forced her head up and looked him straight in the eye. “It’s okay. I’m not going to run away. I promise.”

  She felt him draw in a deep breath before he finally turned toward the bed. He carried her over and gently laid her down on top of the covers. She stretched out her limbs as her head sunk into the mound of pillows. She couldn’t ever remember feeling so relaxed. Every part of her just felt good.

  And she felt even better when she glanced up to see Bowie pulling his shirt over his head.

  Charlie’s mouth went dry as his sculpted abs were exposed, then his chest, and finally his broad shoulders. His pants came next. With the waist undone, he didn’t have to do much to kick them off his legs. They flew across the room. A heartbeat later he was naked.

  Damn.

  She’d thought she had a pretty good idea of what Bowie might look like under his clothes. After all, she’d seen him in everything from tailored suits to tight T-shirts. And what she hadn’t seen outlined beneath form-fitting fabric, her imagination had filled in.

  At least, she’d thought it had.

  She’d been wrong. Terribly wrong.

  Bowie’s body was magnificent. Beyond magnificent. Bordering on divine.

  The show didn’t last long though. A moment later, he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. Charlie nestled into his embrace. She tucked her head into the soft spot below his shoulder and curled her arm and leg up over his side.

  She traced her fingertips over his rising and falling chest. She listened to his heart thrumming a steady rhythm against her ear. He brushed his hand over her hair. A delicious peace settled over them.

  She could easily fall asleep like this.

  So easily.

  Except there was still one nagging question buzzing around in Charlie’s brain. One that wouldn’t let her relax completely until she knew the answer.

  “Bowie?” she said, breaking the silence.