Risking it All (Crossing the Line, #1)(53)

Bowen crushed her to his chest, barking a curse as he came apart beneath her. His teeth raked down her neck, his powerful body shaking in time with hers.

“God, Sera…baby, it’s so good. So f*cking perfect. Mine now. My girl.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight, still attempting to catch her breath. “Yes, your girl.”

He rocked them for a while, a move she wouldn’t have expected from Bowen, but somehow felt completely necessary. She couldn’t fathom ever leaving that position, his warmth, the smoky masculine scent he carried with him. The reality of their situation tried to intrude, but she pushed it away in favor of savoring the moment, their bodies molded together.

It was hard to say when reality started creeping back in. Perhaps with the tightening of Bowen’s shoulders, his prolonged silence. The way he went still, stiller than she’d ever seen him.

Panic invaded her, horror that she’d seen this for something it wasn’t. Minutes ticked by as she tried to summon the courage to move, to face whatever change had come over him. Dreading what she would find on his face, she slowly lifted her head and found his icy stare back in place, the one he’d worn after the scene outside Marco’s.

“Bowen?”

He nodded once, but didn’t meet her eyes. “Remember what I said. You stay in this room with the door locked.

Anyone tries to come in, you shoot them.

Tell me you understand, Sera.”

She flinched over the detachment in his voice. “You’re leaving now?

After…”

Finally, he looked at her. What she saw caused the blood to drain from her face. Pure, lethal determination. “Did you think if we slept together, it would make me less eager to kill for you?” He leaned in and captured her mouth for a thorough, possessive kiss. One that brought back the throbbing between her legs. “If that was your goal, it backfired.

I’ve had you now. Made you mine. The one who tried to take you away from me is going to pay.”





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


Sera.

Bowen woke up with a head filled with sand.

His body ached for reasons he couldn’t remember and the hardwood floor he lay sprawled on wasn’t helping matters. Sunshine blinded him, sending splitting pain through his skull. As soon as the light vanished, his memory returned with the force of a tsunami, rushing in like moving cement. He shot up

into

a

sitting

position

and

immediately regretted the action as his stomach pitched. His hands rose to clutch his head and he saw the blood. So much blood.

No. Not blood. Paint.

He’d come home and found Sera asleep in the guest bed, looking so beautiful he could have stood there staring at her for the rest of his life.

Watching her chest rise and fall underneath

her

halo,

where

she

belonged. He had no idea how long he stood there before returning to his room to paint. And drink. God yes, he’d drank.

Enough so he wouldn’t have to think about what he’d done. Her face when she realized he was leaving her, abandoning her after what she’d given him.

Now that he was thinking semi-clearly, his head free of blinding vengeance, he recognized his massive mistake. He’d proven himself unworthy of her. Something he’d already known with absolute certainty, but she’d seemed willing to ignore. There would be no ignoring it now. She’d given him the best night of his life and he’d squandered it by letting his inner demons get the better of him.

How he’d managed to pull himself away from her, he still didn’t quite understand. Hell, he couldn’t remember.

After she’d wrecked him for any other experience life had to offer, his protective nature had swelled inside him, cutting everything else off. In his arms, he’d been holding the most precious thing in the universe and instead of enjoying it, instead of holding her through the night as he should have done, he’d only been capable of picturing that man’s hands around her throat. He’d thought about what they would have done to her, how they would have hurt her, and his mind had gone berserk.

God, he’d give anything to go back in time and sleep beside her. To tuck her against him and keep her warm, make her feel safe. What if he never got that chance again? He shouldn’t get that chance. If she gave it to him, he’d probably attempt to talk her out of it, then beg for the opportunity anyway.

Jesus Christ. What a pathetic f*ck he was turning out to be. After drinking himself into oblivion, he’d stumbled out of his room and parked himself in front of her bedroom door like a guard dog, which is where he still lay. He needed to clean himself up before she came out, maybe put on some coffee. She liked coffee. Maybe that would at least get her talking to him.

But…what then? Hadn’t he decided last night he would call Troy and demand they come get her, whether she’d secured the ledger or not? There were too many threats around her, including himself, as was proven last night. As long as she stuck around, his enemies were her enemies. He’d made it obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes she was important to him, and someone would eventually get the balls to use her against him again.

A new pounding took up residence in his temples at the idea. Right now, she was safely tucked in bed, right where he wanted her, needed her, to be. She was scheduled to work tonight at Rush, but there had to be a way to keep her away from the place. Just one more day.