Risking it All (Crossing the Line, #1)(30)

Why do you think it’s so hard for you to get a game?” He pointed to the hallway.

“Go on, beat it.”

Still looking shell-shocked, Ruby walked out the door. She didn’t even meet his eyes as she passed, or kiss his cheek like she normally did. He knew then he’d damaged their bond. Possibly beyond repair.

He looked up to find Pamela staring past him into the apartment, her gaze zeroed in on the painting he’d done of her face, her hair. A tear tracked down her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” He hit her with a disgusted look. “You sure are.”

Bowen shut the door and locked all three dead bolts. Now that the moment had passed, now that he didn’t need to put on an act, hundreds of emotions he’d kept at bay for so long rushed in all at once. Helplessness, rage, sadness, pain, regret. They stormed through him, overturning everything in their wake.

The grip he’d had on them finally slipped. He needed an outlet. He needed somewhere to put it all.

Sera appeared in the guest room doorway.

Before he’d made a conscious decision, he’d started toward her.

I should probably run now.

Sera knew it would be the smartest move, and yet her feet were glued to the floor. Deer in the headlights would be the correct term for what she probably looked like. Except this Bowen, the one who stalked toward her with an air of menace surrounding him, had to be 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 *, I’d hit your back wall on my first thrust. Do not f*cking 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 f*cking 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.”