by Tessa Bailey
“I need you, Bowen.” Her eyes were clouded with lust. “Give it to me hard.”
He rammed himself deep, driving her high against the wall. She screamed in her throat, the most erotic sound he’d ever heard, her lips shaking with the effort to keep quiet, keep them undiscovered. Even he had to put a leash on the need to shout, the feel of her made him feel so crazed. “Jesus, fuck. You tight-ass girl. I can’t breathe when I’m inside you. I can’t think.”
Her ankles locked just above his ass, sinking him even deeper and drawing a groan from his mouth. “D-don’t think, just move,” she said shakily.
Knowing he was seconds from losing any semblance of control, he braced his arm between her back and the wall so she wouldn’t get hurt. Then he flattened his free hand above her on the wall and started pumping his hips. He didn’t start slow. Couldn’t. His pace was merciless, giving them what they both needed.
“Nobody feels like you, baby,” he groaned against her neck, before sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin. “I’m so fucking deep and it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough. I can’t touch all of you at once and it drives me crazy. I need everything, always. More, more.”
“You have me.” Her voice shook with the force of his thrusts. “I’m here.”
“You left.” He pressed their foreheads together, focused on the brown eyes glazed with passion. “I watched you leave. Don’t do that to me again.”
“I won’t.” She whimpered as he increased his pace. “I promise.”
His hips moved on their own, plowing into her with deep, savage thrusts. The force of his drives shook her locked ankles loose at his back, so her legs dangled on either side of him, suspended inches above the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, her moans increasing in volume against his ear until he knew she was almost ready to come. He was overcome by the obsessive need for her to tighten up and shake around him, the way she’d done the first time. He needed to be what sent her there.
Bowen licked up the side of her neck and bit down on her earlobe. “You came back for me, Sera. You came back because I mean something to you and thank Christ for that.” His hand left the wall to jerk her left leg up around his waist, and they both moaned at the new friction. “But there’s another reason you came back and I’m fucking you with it right now. Isn’t that right, beautiful? You love what I put between your legs. Admit it for me, part of the reason you came back is because you know you won’t get this anywhere else. Not like I do it.”
Her fingernails dug into the back of his neck; her thigh started to shake in his hand. “Yes. Yes, I need it.”
“Nowhere else,” he growled against her mouth. “Let’s hear it.”
“Nowhere else,” she gasped, her pussy clenching around him so tight, nothing could stop him from ramming into her spasming flesh, over and over, unable to hold back an ounce of his strength. Electricity shot down his spine, into his lower back, between his legs. He momentarily panicked when his eyes went blind because he couldn’t see her, so he concentrated on her fingers riffling through his hair, her clean scent.
Burying his face against her neck, he pushed deep inside her and let the mind-blowing orgasm drag him under. “Sera, Sera, Sera. Feels so fucking good, baby, take it. Take it all for me. See what you do to me? You and that sweet pussy? I can’t breathe.”
For long moments, he stayed like that, crushing their bodies together as his pulse returned to a semi-normal rhythm, since it never completely steadied with Sera around. Reality came back gradually, like a Polaroid coming into focus, but he was still afraid to move. Afraid he would step back to find himself huddled on the ground, imagining her. “You okay, Ladybug?” he mumbled and then held his breath, waiting to hear her voice.
Her open mouth pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m okay. I’m better than okay.”
He pulled back to take in the sight of her flushed face. She looked as if she’d been attacked, and even knowing he’d put her in this state, even though she’d wanted it, he still felt irrational worry. “I wish I could tell you it won’t be like this every time, but I can’t. You do something to me, Sera. You change me and once that happens…I need that feeling too much to hold back.”
“Bowen.” She laid a finger over his lips. “Let’s go home.”
Oh, God. Was it possible for a man’s heart to explode in his chest? “I like you saying that.”
Hands brushing, mouths seeking, they pulled their clothing back into place. Alarm pricked the back of his neck when he realized they’d been vulnerable for—how long? Jesus, anything could have happened while he’d been lost in her. He needed to be more careful. Hogan was set to return early for the shipment tomorrow, and the threat to Sera would skyrocket.
Bowen would handle it. He would. He’d keep her safe, protect her with his life without a second thought. Could he finally walk away from Brooklyn? Yes. Yes. In a heartbeat. As long as he had her, anything was possible.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Walking into Bowen’s apartment, Sera felt resolved. For the first time in recent memory, she’d made a decision based on her needs, not the needs of others. Making the decision to throw herself into his arms had been scary, until those arms had closed around her and his energy had wrapped her inside it. She craved the need he felt for her. She wanted him to need her, because with every second that passed, her own attachment cemented itself. As soon as everything was out in the open, no secrets littering the ground in front of them, the connection she felt to him could only strengthen.
She wasn’t ready to think about what her actions meant. What repercussions they might have in regard to her future. One that now included Bowen. Her uncle, the serious problems presented by what she’d done…those would need to be dealt with. Soon. She hoped, prayed, Bowen would want to help her solve those problems. But not tonight. After what she’d learned from her uncle in the alley, her brain couldn’t process any more. Months of preparation, years of pain, had been funneled into this mission to avenge her brother, and in the end, the whole thing had only been part of a cover-up to protect a corrupt man. A man she’d obviously never known. It had been one big illusion, a relationship she’d created with the charismatic man on television.
“Hey.” Bowen tipped her chin up, a frown marring his brow. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking I’m hungry.”
He focused on a spot past her shoulder. “You’re not…you don’t already regret—”
“No.” She shook her head, laying a hand over his. “I just want to be here with you tonight. I don’t want to think about anything else. Can we do that?”
Oh, boy. He wanted to argue. She could see it. Sera had no doubt that if he could pin her to the floor and demand to know every thought in her head, he would do it. Bowen didn’t sit back and wait for explanations, and this was new to him. Instead of pressing, though, he squared his jaw and nodded. “I haven’t been to the store in a while. Been a little distracted.” He winked at her on the way to the refrigerator. “Egg sandwich? Or I can order something…”
“Egg sandwich, please.” She leaned on the counter, utterly delighted to watch this rough-hewn man with visible battle scars cracking eggs into a bowl with enough masculine grace to flush her skin. As he performed the task, he threw her somber glances over his shoulder. Expecting her to disappear? How could she blame him? Her plan all along had been to disappear. Still was. Only now, she would ask him to find her worthy enough to follow. If he didn’t, the loneliness would be vastly harder than before because she knew what it felt like, being with him.
“Ladybug.” Sera jumped when she realized Bowen was leaning across the counter, face inches from hers. “I can get on board with your no-thinking rule, but you have to cooperate.”
She picked up the sandwich. “Cooperating.”
Bowen tucked into his own sandwich. “So I guess your waitressing career is over,” he said between bites. “Good thing you have those law enforcement skills to fall back on.” One
end of his mouth ticked up, but his eyes were serious. His not-so-subtle way of asking if she intended to remain on the force? “Something tells me you won’t get a good reference from Rush.”
“Are you saying I’m not a good waitress?” she evaded.
“No. I’m saying you’re a terrible one.”
Determined to keep the mood light, she threw a balled-up napkin at him. “It’s harder than it looks. I’ve had patients come into the ER less concerned about a broken leg than some customers in Rush are about their chicken wings.”
“Wings are no joke.”
“Hmm.” She downed the last of her sandwich, feeling even more relaxed now that she had something in her stomach. “Anyway, you were my most belligerent customer and you didn’t even order anything to eat.”
“I wanted to. I wanted to watch you bring me dinner. Still do.” He scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Jesus, that didn’t sound so fucking crazy in my head.”
“I’ll make you dinner someday,” she rushed to say, wanting to erase the sudden insecurity in his face. “I owe you for the egg sandwich.”
“You never owe me for anything. Never.” He took her plate and set it in the sink, along with his own. When he turned back to face her, he looked thoughtful. “Actually, there’s one thing you can do for me. Come on.”
She had no time to prepare before he dragged her toward his bedroom. “Subtlety isn’t really your thing, you know that?” Not that she minded in the slightest. Already, goose bumps were forming on every inch of her skin, heavy heat trickling into her lower belly. Would she ever get used to him, the way he controlled the reactions of her body?
He stopped at his bedroom door and turned to her with a chastising look. “Get your head out of the gutter, baby. You Catholic girls and your filthy minds.”
Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut as he pulled her inside and flipped on the light. His murals were…gone. All of them. His walls had been painted a startling white, the evidence of his work strewn across the floor in the form of paint cans and spattered drop cloths. It looked like a tornado had whipped through the room and ripped all the color from the walls. No, not all the color. As Bowen moved farther into the room, she saw it. On the far wall, he’d painted a woman.
Her? It was…her.
Even though painted Sera was missing a mouth, it captured her eyes, her hair, with perfect detail. When she looked at it, she might as well have been looking in a mirror on her absolute best day. The way he saw her…it heightened what she knew actually existed. He’d painted her eyes as if they were weighed down with love, her hair floating out around her like a cloud.
Sera’s throat tightened painfully. She could feel Bowen watching her, awaiting some sort of reaction, but she didn’t know how to put her feelings into words. For his sake, she tried anyway. “It’s beautiful. I wish you hadn’t gotten rid of all the others, but it’s so beautiful.”
He ran his gaze along the bare walls, horror marring his features. “I couldn’t have any of those things around you. They had to go.”
“Oh.” She wondered what he would do if she curled up on the floor and basked in those words for a while. “When did you do this?”
His booted feet made the floor creak as he closed the distance between them. “The night I…left you here. I came back and found you sleeping under your halo. But I couldn’t sleep afterward, so I painted.” He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. “I should never have left that night. I’m so sorry.”
Sera nodded, unable to speak for a moment. “It’s okay. I’m starting to understand why you did.” She leaned into his touch. “But next time you won’t. You won’t have to get that far before you realize you’re better than that.”
“Is it wrong if I let you go on thinking that?” he murmured. “Probably, but I’m going to anyway. Whatever will keep you here the longest.”
If he continued speaking in such a manner, she would turn into a puddle. “Why don’t I have a mouth? My painting, I mean.”
“Huh?” It took his eyes a moment to refocus. “Oh, right. That’s what I need your help with. I couldn’t get your mouth right.” He tugged her toward the wall. “Pose for me?”
She laughed as he bent his knees to study her lips. “How’d you get my eyes to look so accurate and you couldn’t remember my mouth?”
“It’s not that I can’t remember it, Ladybug. I just…” He groaned in his throat. “When I look at your mouth, I want it on me. I’m not thinking about the gentle swell of your upper lip.” His gray eyes twinkled, looking momentarily blue. “Disappointed you didn’t hook up with a poet?
“No,” she answered, trying not to smile. “Poets are too tortured. Artists are much more well-adjusted.”
“Ah, and I hooked up with a wiseass.” He gripped her chin and tilted her head, still studying her mouth. It unnerved her, in a breathless, anticipatory kind of way. “You think maybe we could, I don’t know, balance each other out?”
His gaze finally met hers with an intensity that shook her to the soles of her feet. She swallowed the knot in her throat. “Do we have a choice?”
“I don’t.” He released her chin and picked up a clean paintbrush. She watched as he mixed together red and beige on a wooden palette, so much concentration going into the task it felt necessary to remain silent. When he spoke again, his deep, husky tone breaking through the quiet of the bedroom actually startled her. “The first time we met, I thought you were wearing lipstick. But when I kissed you, it stayed on. No type of lipstick could have stayed on through that kiss.” He sucked his bottom lip through his teeth. “They’re pink, your lips. I’ve never seen that shade before, like maybe you just got finished sucking on some candy. Fuck, is that why they make me hot? I can’t look at them without thinking of sucking?”
“I don’t know.” The words came out in a whoosh. She leaned back against the wall to the right of the painting, afraid whatever he said next might finally topple her. “I’m more of a savory girl. Like, you know, egg sandwiches…” Oh, please, please shut up now.
He dabbed the paintbrush into the paint, amusement tipping the edges of his sensual mouth. “Are you actually flustered, Ladybug? After I’ve made you come in a stairwell, a photo booth, an alleyway—”
“Point made. Just paint my mouth.”
She watched his hand move, leaving a rosy shade of paint on the wall. Every few seconds, his gaze would flash to her mouth and each time felt like a bolt of lightning to her overwhelmed system. She found herself wanting him to look at her mouth, felt it parting of its own accord, her tongue slipping out to dampen her lips. A pulse beat at the base of her neck and the sound multiplied itself in her ears.
Finally, Bowen stopped looking away, obviously sensing the change in her. “Can you try not to look so goddamn fuckable for a second while I finish this? It’s important to me, Sera.”
The frustration in his tone cut through her haze of lust. “Why is it so important?”
With a curse, he dropped the palette and paintbrush, before planting his fists on either side of her head. He brought his face close enough to kiss her, then stopped. “I need something to prove you were here, all right? Are you happy?”
“No.” His flinch sent her backtracking. “Being here with you makes me happy, Bowen. But I’m not happy you’re so worried about me leaving.”
He scoffed. “How can I be anything else when you won’t talk to me? When you want to play this no-talking game?” His head dropped onto her shoulder. “You’re here and I’m so fucking grateful for that, but I don’t know why or what led to it. If I don’t know those things, how can I make sure I keep doing them? You’re making me crazy, Sera.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to,” she whispered, shaken by his passionate speech. The events of the night were right on the tip of her tongue. She’d been played, used, by her only remaining family. Her brother, the sibling she’d always looked up to, had been flawed in a way she’d never imagined. Nothing felt concrete except Bowen against her, and she
wanted to lose herself in him. Forget everything, just for one night. Tomorrow, she’d find a way to trust again and tell him everything, but right now? Her insides felt raw.
She ducked under his arm and picked up the wet paintbrush, making sure enough rose-colored paint coated the end. Then she turned toward the wall and wrote, in giant letters, Sera was here. She started to set the brush back down, but changed her mind. Beneath it she continued with, because of Bowen.
It wouldn’t be enough for him, but she simply didn’t have the words to give him tonight. His eyes were on her and she could feel them boring into her back. When she couldn’t stand his silence anymore, she turned to face him.
Just in time to be dragged to the floor.
Her gasp of shock was swallowed by his mouth, but it turned into a moan when he settled himself fully on top of her. She’d never felt anything like it, the weight of a man, pressing her body down into the hard wood, with nowhere to go. It felt divine, intoxicating. It made her feel so perfectly feminine, she threw her head back and reveled in it.
Frantic to get closer, to feel more, she spread her legs and Bowen dropped into the cradle of her thighs with a groan, rocking into her center immediately. When he couldn’t get close enough, he yanked her skirt higher and melted into her with a desperate noise.
“You’re goddamn right you were here, Sera. You’re everywhere I look.” He pushed two fingers past her lips, which she sucked deep into her mouth. Her boldness shocked him, she could tell by his sharp curse, the flash of heat in his eyes. “You know what happens when I see you get all flustered? When you’re dying for a fuck, but don’t know how to just ask for it? My cock gets so hard it hurts. Do you do it on purpose?”
With his fingers in her mouth, she couldn’t speak, so she shook her head.
“No?” He withdrew his fingers and gave her a firm pump of his hips. “Tell me what you want, baby. Right now.”
“I want you in my mouth.” She said it without thinking. Having his fingers there had brought back the memory of him standing above her, his face tortured and fraught with pleasure at the same time he slid past her lips. The way he’d begged and shaken as he came had given her such an incredible feeling of power, she would have done anything at that moment to feel it again.
