Bowe’s, though, was the absolute perfect shade.
The thatch of pubic hair surrounding his perfect length was pitch black, and surprisingly well maintained.
Enough so that I vaguely wondered if he manscaped.
Then there was that line of hair that stretched from just below his belly button, and became thicker and thicker until it reached the hair between his legs.
His happy trail.
And man, did that trail make me happy.
Especially knowing that beautiful cock was about to be inside of me.
Countless times during the day I found myself thinking about what his cock looked like in the light of day—since the night before I’d only gotten vague impressions due to the shadowed night— and found myself nearly drooling over him under the bright lights of the kitchen.
His entire body was tanned, likely due to his Italian ancestry on his mother’s side, rather than actually being out in the sun.
Although, I could see the slightest tinge of pink on his shoulders and upper chest due to the sun exposure he’d received this afternoon and early evening.
There was no telling how long he’d been out there with his shirt off.
Then my eyes zeroed in on the tattoo.
It was a date.
Two dates.
In Roman Numerals.
Before I could figure out what they meant, though, he bent down and started pressing kisses over my stomach.
Over my scars.
My breath lodged in my chest, and I stared at him as he kept his eyes focused on mine, pressing kisses to each and every scar before he moved up my body and pressed a single kiss to my lips.
“They aren’t ugly.”
My breathing hitched.
“They’re not pretty,” I whispered brokenly.
He smiled.
“They’re freakin’ beautiful, because they are a part of you.” He stared into my eyes. “The story behind them is ugly, but that’s a part of life. You sometimes have to go through ugly to get beautiful.”
His words meant more than he knew, and in that instant, I knew that I loved him.
This man hovering over my body had the power to absolutely wreck me. And he had no idea of the power he held.
Had no clue that he had my heart in the palm of his hand.
And suddenly I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I had to tell him everything.
I had to tell him how much he meant to me.
But before I could get a word out edgewise, everything in his entire demeanor changed.
One second he was being sweet, and the next there was nothing sweet about him.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Startled, I looked at his face, looked to where his face was pointing, and gasped.
“What the fuck?” I cried. “Troy, go the fuck away!”
Troy didn’t go away.
“I need to talk to you. But, apparently, our child isn’t as important as fucking on the kitchen table,” Troy hissed from the other side of the kitchen door.
Our child, as he liked to call her, wasn’t in any danger.
In fact, she was safely tucked in her bed, with a camera pointing on her in her little crib.
I could see her from here. And she was blissfully asleep.
Bowe growled and ripped the tablecloth off the table, literally throwing it over me as he backed up, reached for his jeans, and pulled them on commando.
I sat up and clutched the table cloth—a pretty black one with sunflowers embroidered on it—and stared blankly as Troy stared smugly at me through the glass panes.
Chapter 15
It’s all about his personality. Yeah, I’m not kidding me either. It’s about his beard and everyone knows it.
-Angie’s secret thoughts
Angie
Bowe opened the door and stared at Troy.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’d like to speak with Angel,” Troy said, not sounding intimidated in the least.
I gritted my teeth at the use of that god-awful nickname, and chose to grab my clothes.
I’d just started to walk out of the kitchen to hurry to my room, which would’ve meant me passing by the door, but one look from Bowe had me freezing along the wall that connected the front entrance to the kitchen.
My back hit the wall and I listened carefully to what the two men were saying.
“I’ll be sure to relay that message,” Bowe lied. “Have a nice night.”
I almost expected Troy to get the door slammed into his face, but Bowe surprised me and waited.
“You know,” Troy said almost as an afterthought. “I haven’t seen my daughter in a while.”
My heart clutched.
“That’s too bad,” Bowe said with complete calm. “She’s a good kid. Angie has done a wonderful job raising her. It’s been a privilege getting to know her. She’s definitely got me wrapped around her little finger.”
I could practically see the steam rising off of Troy’s head and it made me want to laugh.
I didn’t though, for fear that Troy would do something stupid.
He’d already pulled a freakin’ gun on me, and hurt Bowe so badly that he’d had to have freakin’ brain surgery, for Christ’s sake. The man was capable of just about anything at this point.
“Tell Angie that I’ll be speaking with my lawyer,” Troy snapped.
I could hear Troy’s stomps as he made his way back down my driveway, and then the loud roar of his truck as he started it up and sped away.
“Do you think he coasted here so we wouldn’t hear him arrive?” Bowe asked, sounding amused.
“You find this funny?” I asked.
“Hell no, I don’t find it funny,” he admitted. “And I still can’t believe how that fucker was able to get away with hitting me upside the head.”
“He was just trying to ‘catch’ you,” I put that statement in air quotes to help the irony that I’d let leach into my voice.
Bowe tossed me a look that clearly said what he thought about the explanation Troy had given the police. They had chosen to accept that as the truth.
Despite having the signed explanations by not one, but five freakin’ firefighters.
Troy had also been suspended from coaching, and had been off work for the last few months just like Bowe had been. Although Troy hadn’t been suffering like Bowe; no, he’d been enjoying his vacation, which blew my fucking mind.
How he got away with having a gun pointed at someone, and “accidentally” hitting someone—a firefighter responding to a call no less—upside the head with a goddamn pry bar, was beyond me.
The only good thing about this was that the cops in Kilgore weren’t crooked.
The bad thing was that there were some officials who were the checks and balances for the KPD who were questionable.
And obviously whatever Troy used to get him out of whatever stupid situations he put himself in, was enough to make him think he was invincible.
Needless to say, I was pissed.
Really pissed.
And I couldn’t do one damn thing about it.
“I have to call my lawyer now,” I muttered, starting in the direction of my phone, which I thought I might’ve left in my purse in the kitchen.
“I’m not letting what Troy did to me go,” Bowe told me as he grabbed my hand. “And I have people working on it, so don’t stress.”
I turned to look at him.
“Who?” I questioned.
His smile brightened. “A married couple. They specialize in exactly this kind of thing, and kick ass at doing it.”
His grin was contagious, and before I knew it, I found myself smiling right along with him.
The idea of Troy’s destruction had a way of doing that to me.
“I suppose that’ll be nice,” I agreed. “But what can this couple do that somebody else can’t? Like, you know…the police?”
Bowe grinned.
“Jack and Winter are pretty down-to-earth people.
Jack’s retired army, working as a mechanic just outside of town, while Winter is a paramedic with me. She’s not on my shift, though,” he continued. “And they don’t like to see the little people like you and me get taken advantage of. And they especially don’t like little fuckers like Troy abusing the system.”
I blew out a breath.
“They’re really that good?” Skepticism was thick in my voice, and I was sure that my disbelief showed.
“They’re better than you think they are. Think—getting into the FBI database, or fucking NSA without being detected—good.” He started forward, and I looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
“What are you doing?” I asked him suspiciously.
When I went to step back, my arms still filled with clothes (and yes, I did have that entire conversation naked as the day I was born but for the tablecloth still loosely wrapped around me), he stopped me with a hand on the wall next to my hip.
“I’m finishing what I started.” He leaned in.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, dipping my knees to duck under his arm.
I should’ve known the playful movement wouldn’t slip past him.
What I hadn’t expected, though, was to have my back against the wall and my legs spread wide, both draped over his muscled forearms, in the next second.
Before I could blink, he moved and did the impossible.
I felt spread wide, for all the world to see.
“Bowe,” I gasped. “What are you doing?”
And what have you done with my shy Bowe?
“I’m doing what I’ve wanted to do for a very long time now,” he replied.
“And what’s that?”
“Take advantage of you.”
Then he pressed into me, dropped one of my legs, and yanked the button of his jeans.
His knuckles bumped against my exposed clit, and I inhaled swiftly in reaction.
His eyes, those melted chocolate eyes, seemed to bore into my soul the moment they made contact with mine.
Then I felt his bare cock at my entrance.
Eyes staying connected with mine, he watched me as he slowly inched inside.
My mouth fell open, and by the time he was fully inside of me, all the breath had left my lungs, leaving me slightly frantic.
He leaned forward, pressed his lips to mine, and grinned against my lips. “Breathe.”
I inhaled, stealing the breath from his body, and he started to move.
Slowly at first, in and out. Deep and hard.
Then my hips started to move, searching for something.
He ground his cock inside of me, biting his lip and groaning as he did.
His head went back on his shoulders, and I admired his strong, corded neck.
Then I heard his groan as I also watched his Adam’s apple bob, and knew he was close.
“You close, Bowe?” I whispered, lifting my hand to run down his chest. “You want to come inside me? Fill me with you?”
His head came back down slowly, his eyes so intense that it was almost hard to witness.
“I’ve been wanting you every day since PD found out his girl was working with you across the street. Every fucking dream I have, you’re in it,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “I know it’s too early.”
My heart started to pound along with my sex.
His hips snapped forward, smashing into the backs of my thighs, throwing me roughly against the wall.
I lifted up and grabbed hold of the coat hook that was right above my head, both hands holding firmly as he started to really fuck me.
Hard.
The sounds of our hips slapping together had my heart rate accelerating even faster.
Everything—his hips, my pussy. The feel of him inside me. It was all enough to make my every nerve ending seem like it was literally on fire.
Then he lifted up onto his tip toes, hitting me from an altogether new angle, and I lost it.
My orgasm burst through me, taking me down so hard that if he wasn’t already holding me up, I’d have fallen down to my knees. Bowe was filling up holes inside of me that I didn’t know existed.
Happiness and bliss intermingled, making me feel so on top of the world that I knew I never wanted to come down again.
“You look rough,” he said, slightly breathless.
I looked down at my legs that were still on top of his elbows, then to where we were connected.
My pussy spasmed at the sight of him using all that manliness to hold me where he wanted me while he fucked my brains out, and I growled.
The next couple of moments were of him as he took his pleasure from me, and me watching him while he did it.
He used my body. Fucked me like a man possessed.
And I liked it.
Chapter 16
Beardicide - the act of shaving your beard despite the screams of protest in your inner mind.
-Things a firefighter must do to stay alive
Bowe
“Dun-dun, dun-dun, dun-dun,” I heard from behind me.
I turned to Angie, my brows raising at her use of the Jaws theme song.
“Shut up,” I grunted, turning back to the mirror.
“Does it hurt?” she whispered.
Was that a hint of a smile I could hear in her voice?
“Only a little,” I said through gritted teeth.
I was in the bathroom that I’d taken over when I’d moved in here with her, and she was standing in the doorway to the bedroom that I hadn’t used since she’d invited me into her bed.
“I think women all over America are crying right now,” she watched as I took the first pass. “Oh, God. It hurts to watch!”
I rolled my eyes to hers. “You can stop any time now.”
She grinned.
“I could,” she agreed. “But I won’t.”
A pudgy little body hit my leg, and I looked down to see Elise pull up on my leg.
By grabbing my leg hairs.
“Ouch,” I gasped, resisting the urge to pull away from the pain. “Watch it, Stinker. Those are attached.”
So that’s how it went for the next ten minutes.
Mother and daughter watching me, while I committed beardicide.
The moment the entire thing, except a goatee—which I was hoping could stay and still allow my SCBA breathing apparatus to work appropriately—was gone. Nothing left surrounding the goatee that framed my mouth, but baby soft skin.
“What time do you have to be at work?” I asked her once I was done.
She pursed her lips.
“I’m working with Alec today, so anytime I want. Most likely eight, though,” she explained. “Why?”
“No classes?” I persisted.
She shook her head.
“Today’s a holiday, and you know that,” she pointed out.
I was nodding before she finished.
“Come here,” I ordered, crooking my finger at her.
The moment she was within reach, my mouth dropping down to place a quick kiss on hers.
“Would you be upset if I accidentally slapped you and told you not to look at me without your beard?” Angie asked, completely blank faced and faux seriousness.
I looked at her, without my beard, and grinned.
Disentangling her daughter from my leg hairs, I set her down gently onto her bottom then started stalking forward.
Angie, reading the seriousness of the act, started to back away.
I didn’t let her.
The moment she took a step to flee, I had her by the arm and dragged her toward me.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I don’t think you could pleasure me the same way without your beard,” she teased.
My mouth dropped open.
“You don’t think I can, huh?” I asked.
She nodded, her eyes lit with hilarity.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “I don’t think you can.”
Letting go of her, slowly, I backed away.
“Go put your daughter in
her bed for a few minutes so she doesn’t get introduced to the male anatomy at such a young age,” I ordered. “Apparently, her mother needs a few lessons.”
She licked her lips.
“I guess I can do that.”
I heard her move around, turning Elise’s TV on for her, then giving her toys that Elise could throw across the room, out of her crib, when she was done playing with them.
Two minutes later I was waiting in the hall for her.
The minute she closed the door, I was on her, pinning her to the wall and I showed her just what my non-bearded face could do.
***
Fifteen minutes later, I bent down to pick Elise up, who was now playing with my shoelaces after her impromptu TV time that lasted all of seven minutes. I settled her on one hip, immediately taking the necklace that was around my neck away from her before she could put it into her mouth.
“You never gave me the story of that,” she looked at me holding the necklace hostage.
Elise slapped my hand with her pudgy little ones, and I grinned down at her.
“It was my sister’s,” I explained, walking toward her. “She used to wear it every day, and gave it to me to fix the day before she died in the car accident.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“And you’ve been wearing it since?” she guessed, voice soft and low.
I nodded my head.
“I have,” I said. “Thought I lost it at the hospital, but then I woke back up with it on.”
“I put it there,” she admitted, walking ahead of me to the kitchen.
I stopped by the door, picking up my phone and keys that were laying out nicely on the entryway chest of drawers where Angie kept all of her junk mail and keys, as well as her purse.
Apparently, it was the place where I was to put my keys and belongings now, too, seeing as I’d left them on the kitchen table when I’d emptied my pockets last night.
The moment she was back to me, she handed me a Tupperware bowl full of leftovers, and a travel mug full of coffee.
I smiled at her, hooked her around the neck with my hand, and pulled her to me.
Elise screeched in annoyance when her mother got into her space, and immediately took exception to her hair, and started tugging on it.
Put Out (Kilgore Fire Book 5) Page 12
