Deserve

by C. C. Snow

  He’s quiet for a long time and I turn my head to look at him. With his hair sticking out in all directions and a prickly growth of hair on his jaw and cheeks, he looks so sexy. I feel a melting sensation in my core. God, this man is potent.

  Eyes glued on my hip, he clenches his jaw. I glance down and grimace at the darkening bruise on my hipbone. “It looks worse than it feels, Sean.”

  His mouth flattens and there is a deadly glint in his eyes. “Fuck! If I had only arrived sooner…”

  Twisting around, I sit up and fling my arms around his neck, staring earnestly into his eyes. “No! Stop it. You saved me from rape and probably something worse. Don’t think about what could have been. You’re my hero.”

  A look of torment passes over his face. “Maggie, I’m no hero.”

  “You are to me.” Mentally shaking my head at his modesty, I lean down to kiss the frown off his lips. He opens his mouth, instantly deepening the kiss. My eyes flutter closed in happiness.

  Breaking our kiss, he leans back against the headboard and settles me astride him. His erection is thick and insistent, but he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry. His gaze wanders leisurely over my slight curves.

  I have a bad moment when I remember all the beautiful models he’s bedded, but from the way his eyes glint with hunger, he doesn’t seem to find me lacking. His hands clasp my butt cheeks, massaging deeply.

  He says with a mock leer, “Your ass is a goddamn work of art.”

  Blushing, I tease, “I didn’t realize you were an ass connoisseur.”

  His eyes darken. “I am now.” The way his fingers dig into my flesh makes me wet and needy in milliseconds. I kiss him and skim my fingertips over his hard chest and arm muscles. It’s hard to choose where to place my hands so I let them roam everywhere, reveling in the play of hot skin stretched over sinew and bone.

  His hands stroke down the sensitive back of my thighs and I start to giggle again. His touch becomes rougher and my laugh turns into a moan.

  “Sean, I want you.” I have no shame when it comes to this man.

  He licks a line from chin to my earlobe. “I want you too, angel. Put your hands on the headboard and ride me.”

  I still, feeling awe steal into my heart. “You keep calling me that.”

  “What?” he asks, looking puzzled.

  “Angel,” I say shyly, pleasure warming my cheeks. “You called me that last night.”

  He pulls me in to for a hard, wet kiss and says earnestly, “That’s because you are. You’re an avenging angel, saving me from my father and saving your friend from the psycho.” He grins. “The image of you facing off with the Senator will go down as one of the most memorable moments of my life”

  My blush intensifies and I protest, “I’m not an angel.”

  His gaze cuts to my very soul. “You are to me.”

  Feeling a surge of love, I bend down to kiss him, learning every texture of his beautiful mouth, breaking away only when we are both short of breath.

  I rise onto my knees and place my hands on either side of him. I glance down to see him grasp the base of his cock and direct the tip to my slit. The view is so damn sexy and I can’t take my eyes off of him. Yesterday I didn’t have a chance to see him in the dark. In the morning light, he’s more impressive than I could have imagined and I make a vaguely hungry noise in the back of my throat. My hips are moving before I’m aware of it as I graze the velvety soft head of his cock with my wet folds.

  “Fuck, that’s so sexy. You’re so goddamn sexy,” he says, his head bent to stare at where we are intimately touching.

  Feeling braver with each word of praise, I roll my hips so he nudges into my entrance, drawing a loud exhale from him.

  “Again,” he demands and this time I press down until his tip is lodge into my pussy. I throw my head back and fight to not drive my weight down on him. It’s too good to rush.

  My attention snaps back to him when I feel his hot mouth envelop the hard peak of my breast. He sucks lightly on my right nipple. My muscles tighten on his cock and he nips my bud, making me cry out. Then he switches to the other side and this time, he employs his teeth immediately.

  I lower my weight onto him, slowly sheathing inches into my body. He feels scorching hot. My legs tremble from the effort of holding back when all I want to do is ride him like a cowgirl at the rodeo.

  Sean lets go of my nipple and shouts with laughter. That’s when I realize I’ve voiced the last part of my thoughts out loud. His shaking makes me lose my concentration and I let my hips drop, taking his full length. His laugh mutates into a long moan and I would have smiled if all the breath had not been driven out of my lungs.

  “Jesus,” I mutter, shifting to adjust to his penetration. He’s on the verge of being…too much, but he feels freaking amazing too. Tightening my inner thighs, I pull my hips back and forth. “Freaking amazing.”

  There’s a light sheen of sweat on his torso and I bend down to lick along the contours of his pecs, tasting the saltiness of his skin. Spearing his fingers into my hair, he tugs lightly until I meet his gaze.

  “Come on, cowgirl. Ride me.” His blue eyes are sparkling with a combination of lust and humor and I love the look on him.

  I start working my hips against him. His hands move to cup my ass, pulling and pushing, amplifying each motion. The friction is exquisite and we both pick up the pace. Our moans mix together into something musical, each of his low grunts followed by my cries. My lower belly knots tighter and I slam my hips against him, seeking relief from the tension. It builds higher and higher until it borders on pain. My breaths come out in short, desperate bursts as my body starts to tremble with the strain.

  Just as a small sob of frustration emerges out of my mouth, Sean’s hand grazes along hip, shoving me into a fit of laughter. Every muscle in my body relaxes and it’s exactly what I need to plunge over the edge.

  A high note escapes my mouth as the tightness unravels in my core. My orgasm is long and powerful and my head feels like it’s floating in the clouds. Sean shouts his release and bucks his hips hard, sending little aftershocks throughout my body. We ride the pleasure for as long as we can before we become too sensitive, forcing us to disconnect. I curl up next to him, feeling utterly spent and utterly satisfied.

  I have never known pleasure like this. Granted, I hadn’t been with a lot of guys, but I always thought my last boyfriend, Asher, was pretty skilled. Sean has blown all my expectations out of the stratosphere.

  “Damn. This stallion needs to be put out to pasture after that ride, cowgirl.”

  Barely restraining my betraying laughter, I twist my head to look at him and sniff disdainfully. “Who says you’re the stallion?” My eyes scan down his body and I swallow when I reach his groin. Damn, he looks scrumptious. I force my eyes to meet his and lie through my teeth, “Looks more like a gelding to me.”

  “I’ll show you gelding!” The man goes for the jugular and starts to tickle me, sending me running to the bathroom. I’m too slow to close the door on him, but then locking Sean out is the last thing I want to do now that I have him.

  Do you have him?

  Seeing the unclouded look in his eyes, I squelch my nagging doubts. At least my inadvertent confession last night had not sent him running for the hills. Most men would freak out when a girl says those terrifying words the first time they have sex.

  Smooth, Maggie.

  We shower together, but to my regret, he takes one look at my purple bruises and decides he won’t follow up on his threat. Not allowing me to lift a finger, he gently washes every inch of my body with his large hands. I can’t remember when I’ve felt so cherished. After we step out of the shower, he wraps me in the most luxurious towel I’ve ever felt.

  “Do you have any moisturizer?” I ask, blotting the wet ends of my hair.

  “Here,” he says, taking a tube of body lotion from the top shelf.

  I hold back an eye-roll. “Don’t you have face moisturizer?”

  He looks
at me uncomprehendingly.

  Shaking my head at the difference between men and women, I ask, “Did any of your ex-girlfriends leave toiletries behind?” I won’t like using his exes’ things, but the alternative is itchy skin for the day.

  “They don’t normally stay over,” he says absently, searching the shelves.

  “Oh.” Inordinately pleased by his statement, I decide itchy skin is not so bad. I hold up the lotion with a smile. “This is fine.”

  “I’ll go make us some coffee. Then we’ll stop by your dorm so you can change and pack. I’ll see if I can find you something to wear in the meantime.” With a quick smack on my lips, he walks out of the bathroom. I stare after him, feeling bemused and frighteningly happy.

  Shaking myself out of my trance, I slather lotion on my body and place it back into the cabinet. As I shut the door, I see my reflection and I stand back to study the woman in the mirror. Her eyes are shining with an inner light and there’s an irrepressible smile on her lips. I hug myself and make a little squeak of joy.

  Impatient to be with Sean, I hurry into the bedroom. Neatly folded on the bed is a grey cashmere sweater and my clothes from last night. Sean must have retrieved them from the guestroom. After putting on my bra, I pull on the sweater, reveling in how soft it feels against my skin. I have to fold the sleeves several times and the hem almost reaches my knee. Raising my arm, I press my nose into the sleeve. Sadly it doesn’t smell like Sean, but I detect the faint fragrance of his detergent.

  I regard my leggings with revulsion. They’re torn and dirty and worst of all, they’re also a memento of yesterday night’s horror. I shudder. In the end, I yank them on because I don’t have any other options, but as soon as I get to my dorm, the leggings need to go. Too bad they don’t allow bonfires in the city.

  I rush downstairs. With each step, I feel an achiness deep inside. The constant reminder of him—of us—keeps my body on a low hum.

  Sean is standing at the kitchen window, looking out at the view. He’s dressed in old comfortable jeans and a navy pullover. He turns at the sound of my footsteps and I speed up my gait, throwing myself into his arms. “Thanks for the sweater.”

  He folds me into his arms and kisses my head. “You’re welcome. Let’s take care of your hands,” he says and reaches for the first aid kit.

  I stare at him as he applies antibiotic cream on my scrapes and carefully secures the bandages. He’s says he’s not a hero, but these little considerate gestures are what makes him heroic to me.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks, dabbing cream on my cheek.

  “Yes.” My stomach growls embarrassingly on cue and he chuckles. Stepping back, he points to the kitchen table. “Sit down.” He washes his hands and takes a Danish out of a plain white bag. Placing it on a plate, he sets it in front of me. He pours me a mug of coffee puts two sugars in it—just the way I like it—and sits across from me.

  “When did you have time to go get this?” I take another bite of my buttery pastry and close my eyes at the way the flavors meld together. “Hmm…”

  “I called earlier to have this delivered.”

  I shake my head and tease, “Now you’re acting like a billionaire.” I snap my fingers. “I want food. Pronto!”

  He flicks my nose and growls. “You’re a smart-ass.” He makes a playful grab for my Danish and I stuff the remainder into my mouth, making my cheeks bulge like a chipmunk’s.

  Charming, Maggie. I bet none of his other dates behave like a savage. Knowing I look ridiculous, I try to chew and swallow my food.

  He laughs and leans over to kiss my mouth, licking at the flaky crumbs at the corner of my mouth. I keep my lips firmly sealed, too embarrassed to return his kiss and he sits back with a twinkle in his eyes.

  I take a few gulps of the coffee, washing down the last bite and brace myself to ask the question nagging at me all morning. “What should we tell Cael?” I observe him carefully, knowing this is the crux of the issue with us being together for him.

  He expels a deep breath, face sobering. His hands press against the surface of the table, fingers taut. He asks quietly, “What do you want to tell him?”

  Dating in secret makes it feel furtive, as if we have something to hide, and I don’t like it, but if we tell Cael and he disapproves, would Sean decide his loyalty to my brother is more important that what we may have? Sean hasn’t exactly lived the life of a monk and my brother is likely to go into his overprotective mode. Recalling Cael’s argument with Rachel, I make a snap decision.

  “How about we take it slow and see what happens before we tell Cael?” I suggest and the tension disappears from his face.

  “Okay. We’ll take it one day at a time,” he says, sounding relieved.

  Brushing aside my uneasiness at his ready agreement, I ask, “How long do you think the police report will take? I want to check in on Hannah.”

  “It shouldn’t take too long.” He takes out the card from the officer at the scene last night. “The station is not far from the hospital.”

  I drain my coffee and stand up. “Let’s go.”

  Our first stop is my dorm. Sean refuses to let me go in by myself and I’m relieved. I’m not sure I want to be alone for a while. I promise myself I will be stronger tomorrow, but today, I’m giving myself permission to be clingy.

  It’s still early and the lobby and hallways are deserted. Most students are night owls.

  I change quickly, pulling on jeans and a white angora sweater, and gleefully dump the leggings into my garbage can. It only takes me a few minutes to throw enough essentials for a couple of nights into a duffel bag. I don’t want him to think I’m angling to move in with him, especially considering I’ve already jumped the gun. My face warms as I recall my inadvertent declaration of love.

  The next stop is the police station. We ask for the cop from last night, but he’s off duty.

  “I can have Officer Ramirez take the statement. He frequently works with Officer Cox.” The young brunette behind the desk stares at Sean like he’s a smorgasbord and I stifle a spurt of annoyance. If we’re going to be together, I’ll have to get used to women ogling him.

  “Is there anyone who was on the scene from last night?” I ask, hoping my dislike isn’t obvious.

  She shakes her head. “Sorry, ma’am. They’re all off shift now.”

  I grimace and glance at Sean. “Can we come back another time?” It’s silly, but I would feel more comfortable talking to someone who had been there last night.

  Sean studies me for a moment and then shakes his head. “It’s better to give the statement when it’s fresh on your mind.”

  Resigned to rehashing every detail with a stranger, I turn back to the brunette, but before I can say a word, I hear Sean’s name called out in an excited voice.

  Turning around, I see a tall, curvy woman with brown hair and hazel eyes walk out from the back, a huge grin on her pretty face.

  “Sean Rowan! It is you!”

  Reluctance and dread cross his face, but they’re gone like smoke and in the next second, his lips are smiling in welcome. “Leslie!”

  I rub my temples. Jesus, just what I need right now—to meet another one of Sean’s exes. I avert my eyes when they hug each other, all the while hating this insecure side of me.

  “What are you doing among us mere mortals, Mr. Hot Shot Detective?”

  “You should talk, Ms. Hot Shot Sergeant. Congratulations on the promotion, by the way.”

  “Thanks for the flowers and card.” She laughs. “James didn’t appreciate the little taunt in the card.”

  “Your husband needs to get a sense of humor.”

  Relief floods me at hearing that the policewoman has a husband, but it’s closely followed by irritation at my erratic emotions. Get a grip, Maggie.

  Sean’s face sobers. “Listen, I need a favor.” He puts his hand at the small of my back to bring me closer. “Maggie, this is Leslie Ashby. She was with me at the academy.”

  I smile and shake her
hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Her face is open and friendly. “You too.” She glances at Sean. “What’s the favor? You know I’d do anything for you after everything you’ve done for us.”

  Sean’s shoulders stiffen at Leslie’s show of gratitude and his unusual reaction stirs my curiosity.

  “Can you take Maggie’s statement?” He quickly outlines what happened last night and looks down at me with a concerned expression. “It might be easier if she speaks with a woman.”

  If I had two hearts, the second one would officially belong to Sean Rowan in that moment. I grab his hand, squeezing it to let him know how much his consideration means to me. When he tightens his grip, a smile bursts onto my face.

  Leslie’s sharp gaze hones in on our entwined hands and she smiles. “Of course. Come on back.” She leads us through the station until we reach the doorway to her office.

  She beckons another officer with a wave of her hand. “Ron Contee, meet Sean Rowan. Sean, Ron can take your statement. I’m going to take Maggie to one of the interview rooms.”

  I follow Leslie to a surprisingly comfortable room in the back of the station. The first few questions are easy enough. Name. Age. Occupation. Residence. Then she asks me to describe last night. As she tries to tease out the details, it gets more difficult to talk. My heart thunders like crazy and my armpits grow damp. When we get to the part when he cuts off my oxygen, it feels like I’m sucked back into the moment and my breathing becomes labored.

  Leslie looks at me and says, “Let’s take a quick break.” She stands up and gets me a cup of water. “Here, this will help.”

  Taking a grateful gulp, I decide to try to satisfy my curiosity. “Um…so what was Sean like at the academy?”

  She grins, her eyes twinkling. “Intense, but also fun. We were all worried at first, you know…on account of his family background.”

  I frown. “Oh, you mean because his father is a senator?”

  “Yeah, and because he is filthy rich.”

  “What did that have to do with his capabilities as a cop?” I ask, feeling defensive on Sean’s behalf.