Better When He's Bold

by Jay Crownover

  “I don’t think things work like that anywhere.”

  I moved from the side of his chest to his breastbone and kissed him there. The firm skin was warm and resilient under my mouth. I felt the way his body started to respond to the gentle caress. His fingers threaded through my hair as I ran the flat of my tongue over the disk of his nipple. His heart kicked in response.

  I ran my hands over his ribs and rested them on his hips above where his jeans hung low and provocatively. Race was lean, carved out of hard lines and sharp planes. He had a hard, muscled ridge over each hip that delineated strong and supple flesh. I wanted to lick it, to trace every line and curve of his body with the tip of my tongue. I got my hands under the waistband of the stiff denim and grinned where I was kissing him when I felt the hard edge of his cock bump against the back of my fingers. I loved that even in a sour mood he was still so quick to respond to my touch. It made all of this wildness he inspired inside me feel less one-sided.

  “My turn to take care of you,” I whispered just as I kissed him right over his heart before pulling back so I could wrestle with his belt buckle.

  “Brysen . . .” His voice was husky and rough. “I don’t know how much I can take tonight.”

  Good. I would take him to the edge like he had done to me, make everything better with a soothing touch and all-consuming desire. His belt gave way easily enough and he was so hard that the fabric of his jeans was practically pushed out of the way by his throbbing erection. He was long, hard, and looked so solid and right as he fell into my hands. I saw his stomach muscles hollow out, saw his chest rise and fall in a deep breath, and his eyes did that thing where they shifted from pretty green to intense and needy black.

  I got on my knees in front of him, a position that should have made me nervous, should have made me question the lengths I was already going to in order to please this man, but it didn’t. It made me feel in control, in charge of what was happening between us, and I liked the way his hands got hard and insistent when they curled around the back of my head as I leaned forward to take the straining tip of his cock between my lips. He made a low noise in the back of his throat as I swirled my tongue around the ridges and lines of the powerfully jutting part of him.

  He tasted like Race. Sort of mysterious and lux at the same time. He had a trail of fine golden hairs dusting his abdomen below his belly button that tickled my fingers when I circled the base of his erection with my hand because there was no way the whole thing was going to fit in my mouth. He made another noise and his fingers tangled tighter on my neck and in my hair. I sucked on him, licked him, worked him over to the point that his hips started to involuntarily move against the draw and pull of my mouth. I wanted to use my other hand, wanted to stroke him, fondle him, and push him over the edge so that all that tension, all the coiled tautness running through his body, could leach out, but Race was done with being on the receiving end and not giving in return.

  I made a surprised noise when he hauled me back up, spun me around, and put me on the edge of the sink where he had been leaning. I licked my bottom lip, which made him swear at me, and curled my legs around his lean waist when he got his impatient hands under my skirt to strip my panties off under the fabric.

  “I wasn’t done.” I wanted to sound sultry and sexy, but I was more like Minnie Mouse.

  He grinned at me and that dimple was enough to make all the things between my legs go hot and damp.

  “I was about to be, and that’s not what I want. I want you.”

  He stepped into the cradle of my legs, bent his head down, and sealed his mouth over mine. I flinched a little when I tasted blood from his split lip. A second later he joined us together with one solid thrust and I forgot all about his cut, and smashed my mouth more firmly onto his. There wasn’t really any foreplay, wasn’t any buildup and tune-up like there had been last night, but still, the press of hard flesh, the burn as he moved inside of me, felt like heaven. I twined my arms around his naked shoulders, trying in vain to be careful of the bruises decorating his skin.

  This sex was more primal. More about achieving the end goal and making each other feel better than yesterday’s romp had been. It was just as intense, just as potent and impactful. It made my body respond just as fast, heated me up and twisted my insides in all the same ways, but there was something else in it, something that made it more penetrating. There was something working behind those eyes and in his touch that made me feel like this was the other side of Race that I was with tonight. This was the Race who lived and worked in the Point. This was the Race who had taken on a gangster and won. This was the Race not scared of breaking the law. This was the Race who was battered and a little soul-broken because he thought he was doing the right thing and no one else in this place appreciated it. He wasn’t going out of his way to try and please me, even though he was just that good, he couldn’t help but have me panting and writhing against him with just a few skilled thrusts and the brush of exploratory fingers against wanting flesh. I could tell this was something else.

  He got his hands under my shirt and pulled it off over my head. He dropped a kiss to the top swell of each breast and I saw the feverish, burning look in his gaze as he watched us move together. This was about him forgetting what made him mad; this was about him trying to set down the guy he thought he had to be in this place. Being with me made him feel like someone else too, and when he snaked clever fingers between my legs, pulled me even farther to the edge of the sink where I was already precariously balanced, there was no holding out against the flood of sensation.

  I whispered his name and came apart in his arms and he bared his teeth at me and did the same. Only a guy who looked like Race could make going over the edge—shuddering his release—look that good. I panted against the side of his throat as he smoothed a hand over the top of my head and down to the ends of my hair.

  “All better?” Now my voice was husky and full of sex.

  He laughed a little and moved his hands around my back so he could unhook the clasp of my bra.

  “No, but you make it easier to forget how shitty things around here can be.”

  Well, what girl didn’t want to hear that from a gorgeous guy as he picked her up and carried her off to ravish her some more? Being with him was supposed to be about making me feel right and normal, but I wasn’t going to complain if I could return the favor.

  Chapter 10

  Race

  I HURT EVERYWHERE. EVERY single spot on my body that had suffered a blow from heavy hands, every part of my body that had been used to defend myself, just ached all the way down to my bones. I felt battered and bruised everywhere, from the inside out.

  The only place that didn’t hurt or ache was the spot on my chest where Brysen’s head was resting. In sleep, her ear was pressed to the thump of my heart and her hand was curled around my waist. She was like the cool side of the pillow. Like frost on a windowpane, soothing all the bumps and bruises. Where I should be burning up with all of her sexy and honeyed nakedness pressed up against me, instead I felt like she was a refreshing breeze cutting through the smog and pollution that typically flooded my lungs. Her white-blond hair felt like raw silk where it rubbed against my skin, and with zero effort she had my eager body stirring under the covers.

  Since she stayed the night, let me have at her without question while I tried to work out all the dark shit in my head, I thought the least I could do was pull the bed out and let her sleep in semicomfort. Not that I let her get that much shut-eye. There was something unique about her. Something about the way she was when she was with me that made me want to get into her, take her apart, see everything she was working with and put my hands on all of it. She was like the best puzzle, the hardest problem I had ever tried to figure out, and it made me like her more than I already did.

  I was just thinking about the best way to wake her up, wondering if she would freak out if I skipped all the preamble and just put my mouth between her legs. So far she had surprised me. Sh
e seemed down with whatever I wanted to do to her, do with her, but considering we had just scratched the surface of all the ways I wanted to mess her up, I still didn’t know how far she was willing to let me go or where her hard boundaries were. I don’t think I had any particular boundaries where she was concerned, and that made my blood thick and my dick hard.

  I was running my hand down her side, thinking she felt like all the luxury and finer things I had long since left behind, when my chance to seduce her awake was blown by my phone screaming at me from the floor where it was tangled in my pants. I was used to the damn thing going off at all hours of the day and night. People wanted to give me money or take my money all the time and they never paid attention to a clock. What I wasn’t used to was my mother calling me—ever. That was a ring tone I hadn’t heard in months and months, including the time I had the life nearly beaten out of me by Novak’s thugs and I ended up in the hospital. She had firmly joined the Race-is-a-worthless-piece-of-shit bandwagon as soon as my father had declared me persona non grata at the Hartman castle. She had no clue what kind of man my father really was and saw no issue with believing him and whatever lies he told to justify disowning me and taking away every penny I had to my name.

  Brysen muttered something and her eyes fluttered open to look at me. I saw her take a second to take stock, realize where she was, then she stacked her hands under her chin and looked out at me from under a tangle of pale hair.

  “Are you going to answer it?”

  I hadn’t, and now it was ringing again.

  “I don’t really want to.” She was naked and draped across me, my face hurt, and my dick was hard. There were a hundred and one other things I could think of that I would rather do than answer that phone.

  “Work?”

  I sighed and shifted so I could snatch the phone up off the floor. She rolled to the side and took the single blanket I had thrown over us at some point in the night with her. She looked so sweet all rumpled and thoroughly sexed up but so out of place in the hollow and empty loft. She pushed her hair off of her face and watched me with careful eyes.

  “I wish it was work.” I swiped a finger across the screen of the phone and moved to the edge of the bed. Only my past could instantly deflate the erection Brysen and her sexy, chilly blondness had inspired.

  “Been a while, Mom.”

  There was no masking the bitterness and anger in my tone and I saw Brysen look at me with concern. I sighed again as she climbed off the other side of the bed, taking the blanket with her as she went toward the bathroom.

  “Race . . .” My mother was crying, hysterical even, and I thought I should try to care.

  “What do you want?” I sounded like an asshole but I couldn’t help it. I reached for my discarded jeans.

  “I need you to meet me down at the police station.”

  I paused. “Why?”

  She made a hiccuping noise and then a sound like that of a dying animal. “You father has been arrested.”

  I didn’t mean to but I burst out laughing. I heard her gasp, and as I looked up, Brysen was coming out of the bathroom. She was dressed, which was a damn shame.

  “This is hardly funny.” My mom sounded devastated.

  “What did he get arrested for?” My father was a bad man. A criminal on more levels than I could ever be. I wasn’t surprised and I couldn’t really believe my mother was either. How could you be married to someone, spend a life with them, and not know about all the dirt and filth they wallowed in to keep you in fur and diamonds?

  “I’m not really sure. There were federal agents here this morning before the sun came up. They had warrants and took your father away in handcuffs. I called our lawyer.” She broke off in a sob again and I frowned when Brysen nodded her head toward the stairs like she was going to leave without saying anything to me. I shook my head at her and scowled. “All of our accounts are frozen. He won’t even go to the police station and help me post your dad’s bail. There is no money.”

  Wow. Fate was a real nasty bitch when she put her mind to it. “It’s the feds, Mom. You probably can’t bail him out anyway.” Not if they wanted to tie him up and use him as leverage against the last of Novak’s crew or get him to turn on Novak’s suppliers. My dad was neck-deep in that mess, and I was honestly surprised they were just now catching up with his sorry ass.

  “What am I supposed to do? I can’t even stay at the house.” She sounded lost and scared. I climbed to my feet and walked to where Brysen was standing, watching me silently. I didn’t stop until I was right in front of her. I slid a hand around the back of her neck and tilted her face up toward mine.

  “I fail to see how that’s my problem. You tossed me out in the cold without a second thought.”

  She didn’t answer me for a full minute, and I took the time to get lost in a sea of endless blue.

  “Your dad said it was what we had to do. He told me that you were poisoned by that boy, by the lifestyle he dragged you into. You made the choice to disappear for years, to waste your college fund on some girl, Race. Your father told me cutting you out of our lives was the only way you would see what you were giving up. You were supposed to come back home.”

  It grated on my last nerve. I gritted my teeth and Brysen lifted her hands to run them over the swirling black-and-blue bruises that were painting my ribs on either side. People with power and money always thought they had the upper hand, that they could manipulate others with no consequences.

  I lowered my forehead so it touched hers, and told my mom in a tone that was final, “You can come into the city and get some money, not for Dad. I’ll give you enough to get a hotel until you figure out a game plan.”

  She started to talk over me, but I cut her off.

  “That girl, the one I spent all of my tuition money on, wasn’t just some stranger, Mom. She’s Dad’s kid, and he tried to have her killed. Once before she was even born, and then again when her mom came back around to try and extort money out of him. He’s a fucking monster and I hope he turns on Novak’s crew because he’ll never make it to the witness stand alive. He can rot in hell with Novak as far as I’m concerned.”

  I hung up on her before she could say anything else and bent so I could kiss this girl who always made all the bad things seem less in control of my day-to-day. She tasted like mint and the morning, and when she buried her fingers in the hair at the back of my neck and tugged, I made sure she knew that if she wanted to I was more than willing to take her back to bed. Only I got a little overzealous, and the way my lip was split open started to burn, so I had to lift my head, and when I did she had a drop of blood on the center of her sweet, pink mouth. I used my thumb to wipe it away, thinking that’s exactly why I had to be careful with her. I didn’t want any kind of blood on her: mine, hers, or the rivers of it that the Point seemed to spill without any thought.

  “I’ll walk you downstairs. The shop is closed on Sundays, but Bax will be around.” I trusted my best friend to keep his trap shut and not give her a hard time, but I felt better, more like a gentleman, if I escorted her through the cavernous monster of the garage. I still had some chivalry inside me, even if it was buried under miles and miles of other, harder things.

  I didn’t bother with a shirt or shoes, just took her hand and guided her down the metal stairs. It was cold on the garage floor since I was only half dressed, and I noticed one of the big metal bay doors was open. Bax’s Hemi ’Cuda was up on the rack but he was nowhere to be seen. I was going to just lead Brysen through the open bay when she suddenly pulled to a stop and yanked her hand free of my loose grip. I was going to ask her what in the hell she was doing when she purposely veered off in the direction where all of the boosted cars were parked along the back wall.

  The nondescript fleet of cars Bax had collected for me were patiently waiting on their owners to pay up. In the dark, with the low interior lights, they were hard to see. However, with the bay doors open, and in the bright light of the morning, it was much more evident that
the mismatched collection didn’t belong with Bax’s works of art and restoration or his high-end repairs.

  “Brysen?” Her name was a question but she was ignoring me and moving with clear intent right toward a white Lexus SUV that was parked amongst the other collateral.

  It wasn’t the nicest car of the group. It wasn’t the worst either. I couldn’t figure out why she had sought it out like a heat-seeking missile until she turned on me and her eyes went from a pretty summer day to a rolling, thunderous storm at sea.

  “Why do you have this car?”

  I looked at her and tried to decide what I should say. I could lie, tell her it was just waiting to be fixed, but I had the distinct impression she already knew more about why it was here than I wanted her to.

  I crossed my arms over my bare chest and lowered my eyebrows at her. I could do flinty and cold as well as any blue blood.

  “I don’t see how that’s any business of yours, Bry.”

  She let her mouth fall open and I saw a hot red run up her neck and flood into her face. She stalked toward me and jabbed the end of a finger into the center of my chest. I had a bruise there from the night before, so the jab hurt and made me scowl at her even harder.

  “That’s my dad’s car, Race. The car that is supposedly in the shop, which made him demand my car yesterday. So yeah, it very much is my business why you have it here.”

  I took a step back, and out of the corner of my eye saw Bax come out of his office. His face was hard, and even with the distance separating us I saw how dark his gaze was as it locked on our conflict. Bax wouldn’t let anyone mess with his operation and he didn’t care if the threat was a mostly harmless pretty college girl.

  I grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her out into the front lot where the BMW was parked next to the Stang.

  “You know what I do, Bry. Don’t pretend like you don’t, because now it might be a little too close to home.”

  She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at me. “My dad doesn’t gamble. He’s a computer programmer, for Christ sakes.”