When threats escalate, will Jim and Calista succumb, or fight for a love they can’t deny?
Injured Parole Officer Jeremiah “Jim” Borden never expected Calista Barlow, the sassy blonde waitress he’s craved for months, to ring his doorbell. She slips into his heart—and his bed—but he’s obsessed with a gangland investigation that threatens his career and maybe even his life.
Calista doesn’t trust easily, not with a daughter to protect and the stalker who keeps calling her. After her violent ex-boyfriend returns, she finds solace in Jim’s arms.
Jim may have to forego his need for answers to protect the ready-made family he adores, but how will he and Calista escape an unseen enemy that is always one step ahead of them?
Sexy Deleted Scene with light BDSM
Note from Amber — Unfortunately, I had to tone this scene down for my editor, so the final version in Arresting Jeremiah is different from what you’ll read here. So I hope you enjoy this bit of sexiness for what it is.
Calista twisted her fingers together as Jim parked his car out of sight from the sparsely-populated street and down a vacant alleyway somewhere between LoDo and the neighboring development of Five Points. Two red-brick buildings covered in graffiti with boarded up windows towered several stories high and cast shadows down the trash-littered alley.
Self-depreciation and the chill of loneliness left her hollow for so long. The concern on Jim’s face, his evident need to comfort her when she almost broke down in tears in his sister’s posh store, warmed her as nothing else could. It also scared the living daylights out of her. She couldn’t tell him about her shameful mistakes. She never told anyone, not even Shana or her mother whom she loved dearly, and she planned to take it to the grave. If only she met Jim first and fell in love with him instead of Byron. Calista believed without a doubt Jeremiah Borden would have done right by her, especially with a child involved.
Calista glanced at Jim as he reclined in the driver’s seat. He watched her with worried but steady eyes and she couldn’t speak with the ball of sorrow in her throat. The handsome man said nothing but his deep, rich brown eyes expressed everything: his need, lust and desire for more than just her body. For some reason, he wanted to protect and care for her.
Jim stashed his weapon in the glove box and trailed his fingers over her cheek. She tilted her face into his palm. His touch, so light and smooth, brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes.
No, they couldn’t make love. His gentleness would break her.
Rough, she needed it rough.
She swallowed hard to lock her sorrow and dreaded memories in the deepest, darkest parts of her mind. She needed Jim’s heat and delicious body to make her feel better. Her love life consisted of okay sex in bed and up against a wall with her previous boyfriends, but the seedy alley offered the adventure and the tad bit of danger she craved.
Calista pushed her fall of hair away from her face and craned her neck to double check their privacy through the car windows. A mist of rain covered the glass and she climbed into the back seat before she lost her nerve. Jim cocked an eyebrow at her and a flirtatious smile crossed her face. He chuckled and unbuttoned his shirt. The last few bits of plastic scattered across the car interior as he jerked on it with impatience. Calista shrugged out of his blazer, jerked her blouse over her head and tossed both to the floorboard. Tempted to cover her breasts with her arms, she refused to show another sign of weakness.
His shirt hung loose around his torso as Jim joined her in the back. She stroked her hands down his hard abs, his skin flared hot to her touch, and her mouth watered at the sight of his chest. He clasped her face again, this time harder, and claimed her lips with his. Their teeth clanked, his tongue speared her mouth and a faint hint of coffee lingered on his breath. His fingers slid down her neck, goosebumps licked her skin, and her throat tightened with need as he palmed her left breast. Heat spiraled in her womb. He thumbed her nipple within the tight confines of her bra and hardened the nub to a stiff peak.
The domineering man pressed her back against the seat and leaned up on his knees to tower over her, or as much as he could in the cramped vehicle. He pinched and pulled her nipple, hardened his grip and relaxed it every few seconds, and massaged her breast with his large palm.
“Oh Jeremiah. Yes. No. The other, please switch.” She panted and dug her nails into his back as Jim continued to knead the left one. A sharp cry left her lungs and he released her achy nipple to reach around her back. He twisted the clasp of her bra until the hooks and eyes snapped free. Her breasts spilled over the pink cups and she blushed red.
Not gifted with high, perky mounds of feminine flesh, the heavy weights drooped like water balloons. Stretch marks from the sheer size and the feeding of her daughter left discolored ridges in her skin. Calista’s lust faded but her hard nipples still lifted and begged for attention. She wrapped her arms around her chest and tried to straighten from her recline on the upholstered seat. Jim grabbed one of her arms, pulled it away, and released it to grab her other arm. She shook her head and covered herself with both arms again.
The fine lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth deepened. He fisted her wrist with his hand, slammed her arm hard against the headrest and straddled her legs. Her eyes widened. The blood in her veins pulsed fast like a river. His broken arm, still sheathed within the sleeve of his loose shirt and cradled by the sling, hovered just inches from her chest. He sustained his weight on his knees but the force of his body on top of hers left her compliant to his will. Disgust would surely stain his face once he saw her bare and free. Calista closed her eyes to avoid the sight, lifted her other arm and grasped her hands together above her head.
Men claimed to love big breasts but most of her past lovers called her plump girls too big. Some even claimed the marks from caring for her child ruined them. She stilled herself for the same kind of rejection and insult from this lover—a man she cared for, a man she wanted more than just sex from—and she wished to God she never rang his doorbell hours earlier.
She breathed deep and waited for a disgusted growl or a curse of displeasure. Her eyelids fluttered as he shifted his weight to one side. Her heart lurched. He planned to get off her—damn, she knew it—but his muscled weight settled back down. Jim grabbed her wrists, tightened something rough around them and a strange screech noise echoed in her ears.
Her eyelids jolted open. She tried to pull her arms down but strain tightened her elbows. A plastic cuff pinned her wrists together and circled around the metal bar of the extended headrest. His blazer lay on the seat beside them. Jim trailed his fingers down her bare arm and her skin tingled. He stroked her right nipple, flicked it with his index finger and stroked it again. Her back arched. A gasp clogged her throat. His hand traveled up and his fingers wrapped around her throat as though he wanted to squeeze her stunned, delighted gasp.
“I’ve dreamed of these perfect breasts for so long. They’re fuller and sexier than I imagined.”
She couldn’t believe such a blatant lie. Calista licked her lips and turned away but he gripped her chin and forced her to face him. Embarrassment raked her like claws. “They’re not perfect. They’re big and hideous. I’d like to have a reduction someday.”
His eyes narrowed and his thick eyebrows furrowed into a long line. She gulped. She’d rarely seen him angry—he usually bordered on annoyed rather than angry with his parolees at the diner—but now sparks of fire simmered in his eyes. He would probably erupt in an inferno if she tossed gasoline on him. Jim grabbed her joined wrists and slammed them back against the headrest. Pressure pounded through her body and she twisted her fingers together for some kind of leverage. Her breasts rose with every deep breath she took. Heat flushed her face, neck and chest. Even her stomach warmed. She pushed away a tremor of panic and swallowed hard.
“Why did you pin my arms, Jeremiah?” She already knew the answer but needed to voice the question anyway. Part of her raged at the sexist injustice but another part, a part she rarely indulged or acknowledged, purred at the thought of a man strapping her down.
“These are mine for as long as we are together. You won’t insult them.” He cupped one of the heavy weights and leaned down to clasp the nipple with his mouth.
A sharp moan curled up her airway. His tongue laved, teeth grazed and lips suctioned. She arched her breasts into his face and he bit down gently, trapped her nipple in his mouth and caressed her other feminine mound with a firm hold. Calista gasped as blood drained from the imprisoned nipple and pressure built in her womb. Tingles rocketed through her. Jim thumbed her other little nub into an achy peak and she tossed her head from side to side.
She couldn’t handle the pleasure, the pain. Her breasts ached and she arched her back so high to meet his demanding mouth the muscles in her lower back and stomach clenched in spasms. Her arms throbbed and she dug her nails into her own skin and the seat for an anchor. Jim tightened his knees around her thighs and knelt so low to reach her nipple his sling rubbed her belly.
“Jeremiah, please. Oh God.” She didn’t know whether she begged him to stop or pleaded for more. Her mind felt like mush and her body thrummed with life. “Oh, fuck yes.” The curse slipped out but she didn’t care. Intense pleasure, no longer pain, seized her body and she cried out as he bit her throbbing nipple a little harder. Moisture slicked her inner folds.
How could he do that? How could she get wet with just his mouth and hand on her nipples?
Jim suckled the stiff nub one last time and released it from his mouth with a smacking sound. The force weakened her curved back and she fell against the seat. His harsh pants matched the tempo of hers. He gripped her waist, kneaded her flesh and surely left behind finger marks. Blood rushed back into her nipples with a sharp sting and the areolas and surrounding flesh brightened to a hot pink. Jim trailed his hand up her body and grazed the swollen nipple he treasured with his mouth. She squirmed, too hot and uncomfortable but desperate for more. He clasped her throat with his hand once again and she moaned.
“Tell me about your breasts, Calista.” Jim licked the supple skin of her neck. “How beautiful are they? What do they feel like right now?”
Oh God, she couldn’t think well enough to answer those erotic questions. He squeezed lightly against her windpipe and she knew she had to answer. “Good, so good.”
He traced his nose over her jaw line. “More. Tell exactly how they feel.”
She groaned as his hand tightened. “More than good. My—my breasts are so—oh damn, they’re so achy. Needy. They’re pounding and screaming. They feel so heavy, heavier than normal, but—but they feel wonderful. Sexy. Hot and swollen.” Calista couldn’t believe how amazing she felt. Maybe, just maybe, her breasts weren’t hideous after all. Jim devoured the things like prized hams. He treasured and enjoyed them. More than that, he made her feel beautiful when no man ever had.
Jim released the pressure around her throat, clamped his mouth on her skin and sucked to likely darken the hickey he started earlier. She panted his name. With every nerve in her body ready to burst, he soothed the stinging bite with his warm tongue just in time. Calista blinked to clear her blurry vision. Fog cloaked the windows and rain pounded on the car. She met her lover’s gaze as raw, sensual need burned in his eyes.
He pressed his finger to her lips. “It’s okay.”
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