Authors: Tessa Bailey
Tags: #police, #Romantic Suspense, #brazen, #line of duty, #erotic, #new york, #Contemporary Romance
scarier than a vehicle heading toward
you at full speed.
She’d only heard the tail end of the
argument with his sister, thanks to their
voices rising. Curiosity getting the better
of her, she’d opened the door a crack
and seen him standing in the doorway
with another woman. The pink-haired
woman on his wall, who she’d pieced
together had to be his mother. Even
without knowing the history there, she
knew with absolute certainty the visit
had been hard for him. Very hard. And
now the Bowen who’d taken her to
church this morning and made her laugh
was long gone. Replaced by a man she
didn’t totally recognize.
If his threatening demeanor weren’t
layered
with
an
almost
tangible
vulnerability, she would have turned on
her heel and barricaded herself in the
bedroom. But she did see it. She saw his
need to release frustration, maybe even
pain. Pain she could heal. Healing was
in her blood, thanks to her years as a
nurse. Bowen brought that quality out of
her like a bullet being fired.
Heal. Fix.
Repair
.
Those acknowledged desires were her
final thoughts before he reached her. His
mouth slammed down on top of hers,
stealing her breath. Rough hands dug into
the skin at her hips as he walked her
backward. It only took a second for his
desperation to grow contagious. Her
instincts were crying for her to ease his
torment, to be the one who cured him.
She plastered her body to his, circling
her arms around his neck and digging her
fingers into his hair.
Her legs met the edge of the bed and
they toppled onto it, Bowen catching
himself on his elbows so he wouldn’t
crush her, but his mouth never stopped
moving over hers. The kiss didn’t carry
even a hint of sweetness. It was sex.
Pure and simple. A hot, mind-blowing
using
of her mouth. His lower body
found the notch between her thighs and
bore down. She broke away from his
mouth to moan, but he jerked her face
back and bit her bottom lip.
Briefly, their eyes met and Sera felt
the beginnings of alarm. She didn’t see
Bowen in there anywhere. More than
anything, she wanted him. Wanted this.
But she wouldn’t be experiencing it with
Bowen. She would regret it and so
would he.
He growled as he pinned her arms
over her head. “I bet you thought your
first time would be with someone
nice
.
Someone who would sprinkle rose
petals on the bed and ease you in.” He
bent down and ripped her shirt open
with his teeth, buttons popping off onto
the bed, exposing her lacy black bra. His
hot gaze raked over her breasts as he
worked his hips in a grinding circle.
“Not me, Sera. I don’t do easy.”
“
Bowen
.” She just managed to bite
back a moan. “Look at me.”
“All
I
do
is look at you,” he
practically shouted.
A knot formed in her throat at the
sincerity in his statement. “You can be
that nice guy. You
are
that nice guy.”
When his gaze darkened, she knew it
had been the wrong thing to say. “You
think I’m
nice
?” He leaned down and
spoke against her ear, his tone reminding
her of cut glass. “I don’t even know what
that word means. I would ram my cock
so deep into that virgin pussy, I’d hit
your back wall on my first thrust. Do not
fucking doubt me.”
Even knowing his words hadn’t been
intended to arouse, they set a sharp ache
pulsing between her thighs. “No, you
wouldn’t. You wouldn’t cause me pain.”
“
Yes, I would.”
“No.” She wriggled one of her hands
free to stroke the side of his face,
relieved when he squeezed his eyes shut
and turned his face into her hand. “Not
like this, Bowen.”
When his eyes opened again, the
glazed-over quality had mostly gone. He
seemed to become aware of his
surroundings again, really
seeing
her for
the first time. As if a string had been cut,
his body dropped heavily onto hers. He
pushed his face up against her neck on a
shuddering breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so
fucking sorry.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “I
know.”
“Please don’t be scared of me,
Ladybug,” he said hoarsely. “I won’t be
able to stand it.”
“I’m not.”
He turned onto his side and gently
pulled her against his chest. As if she’d
done it hundreds of times before, she
tucked her head under his chin. Her
eyelids started to feel heavy almost
immediately, the fingers stroking the
bare skin of her back not helping
matters. Every few minutes, he would
tug her closer, each time feeling like
another apology. Still able to feel the
tension in his body, she searched for a
way to distract him.
“How did you get the live chicken?”
The fingers stroking her back paused,
preempting his rumbling laugh. “Off the
back of a truck in Crown Heights.” His
fingers traced her earlobe, making her
shiver. “He came with me so easily, I
think he knew I was saving him from
slaughter.”
“Chickens are intuitive like that.”
“Yeah?” His voice held a smile.
“What about you? Are you intuitive?”
Her head bumped his chin when she
nodded.
“Then what am I thinking about right
now?”
Since she could feel his hard, jean-
encased length against her thigh, she had
a pretty solid idea. But something about
the moment didn’t feel right for that. He
still seemed distracted by what had
happened with his sister and mother.
“You’re thinking about bagels.”
“Let’s pretend you’re right.”
“Okay.”
Neither one of them moved to get up.
With every moment that passed, every
stroke of his fingers, she grew more and
more tired. After her difficulty sleeping
last night, it was impossible to stop
herself from nodding off. Just before she
faded into unconsciousness, Bowen
whispered into her ear.
“I’m sorry. I think I have to keep you,
Sera.”
CHAPTER TEN
Sera woke to darkness, shooting straight
up in bed. She’d slept so deeply, it took
her a moment to remember everything
from the day. A quick glance at the clock
radio on the side table told her it was
eight o’clock. She flopped back onto the
pillow to give herself a moment to let
the grogginess dissipate. In the mornings,
she never had a problem waking, but she
felt as though she’d just woken from a
coma.
When she shivered, Sera realized she
still wore no shirt. The cold must have
woken her, which meant Bowen had left
only recently. It had felt so good,
too
good, to lie there with him and forget her
responsibilities. She should be ashamed
of how easily it had happened. Sleeping
beside someone meant letting her guard
down. Trusting the other person. She
knew she needed to be more careful, but
the voice of stern caution that usually
spoke from within seemed to silence
itself in his presence.
Was she naive to believe the Bowen
Driscol she’d read about in police files
wasn’t the real man? There was no
denying he’d done terrible things, but her
instincts couldn’t be this far off. He had
good
inside him.
She climbed out of bed in search of
Bowen and found him sitting on the
couch, hands clasped between his knees.
His head came up when he sensed her, a
sad smile moving across his face.
Almost like he’d read every thought
she’d had in the bedroom.
He cleared his throat and gestured to
the wall. “You want to paint?”
“Yes, please.” In addition to being
grateful for the distraction, she couldn’t
deny a spark of excitement. “But I should
warn you, I only have two specialties.”
“Which are?”
“Kitty cats and houses with smoke
curling out of the chimney.” She sat
cross-legged on the floor, surveying the
paintbrushes. “I’m not sure if those will
fit in with your theme.”
He frowned. “What theme?”
Sera ducked her head, feeling
suddenly
uncomfortable
under
his
scrutiny. Was he actually unaware of the
pattern his murals created, or did he just
want to know what she thought? She
picked up a paintbrush and gestured to
the painting of the Brooklyn Bridge, half
intact, half engulfed in flames. “Good
and evil,” she started quietly. “The
battle between the two. Don’t you see
it?”
His gaze tracked around the room, as
if seeing it for the first time. “I never
saw it like that before.” When he looked
back at her, his eyes were serious.
“What side do you think wins?”
Going into this investigation, she
thought she knew the answer, but it
didn’t seem quite so clear anymore. “I
think maybe they both win once in a
while.”
A beat of silence passed before
Bowen broke eye contact, swiping an
impatient hand through his hair. “Listen,
I’ve been a shitty host. You need to eat
something.”
On cue, her stomach groaned. “I could
go for a bagel. Or nine.”
He stood. “Coming right up. Go ahead
and get started.”
“Where?” The word froze on her lips
when she saw a fresh white space on the
wall. Right where the painting of his
mother’s face had been.
“There.”
“Bowen—”
“I want to replace a bad memory.” He
popped her bagel into the toaster and
shot her a devilish grin. “Draw your
cathouse.”
Sera bit her lip to stop a laugh. “I
don’t think we’re on the same page.” She
picked up a container of purple paint and
squirted it onto an ancient-looking
palette, stained with dozens of color
blotches.
Using
a
medium-sized
paintbrush, she stirred the blob of paint.
With a sigh, she stood and approached
the wall.
“A purple cat?”
She jumped a little when he spoke
from right behind her. He’d moved so
quietly. “If you’re already criticizing,
this is going to be a long night.”
“I’m not.” He held the bagel to her
lips, giving her no choice but to bite. His
eyes darkened as she chewed. “Just
wondering about your color choice.”
Feeling self-conscious, she took the
bagel from his hands. “Purple is the
color of royalty. Maybe he’s heir to the
kitty throne.”
“You’re putting some thought into
this.”
She took another bite to save herself
from having to answer. Truthfully, even
though talking to him came naturally, she
was feeling out of her element. Standing
here with this dangerously beautiful man
who brimmed with sexual confidence.
This man, with swollen and lacerated
hands, who held the paintbrush like an
extension of his body, magnetized her
like no other.
The glowing lamplight cast shadows
around the apartment, and the soft sound
of paintbrushes sliding along the wall
was in direct contrast with the tension
visible in Bowen’s face and shoulders.
Unlike her, not all his tension seemed
to be sexual. What took place earlier had
obviously affected him greatly, even if
he tried to put on a good show for her.
She couldn’t help wanting to ease the
burden. As a nurse, she’d been known
for her bedside manner. She’d never had
the ability to remain emotionally
detached when someone was in pain.
She couldn’t leave him suffering in
silence, not with her commitment to heal.
“Is Ruby your only sibling?”
He paused mid-stroke. “I’d rather not