Page 72 of South Beach Bodyguards

six

My theory to get Olivia out safely was to be the boldest motherfucker ever and stroll onto Benito’s property. It was the only way. The classic grab and run. The minute I saw her come out onto the patio and start having breakfast with Benito’s girlfriends I knew it was my one and only chance. If Benito still had his old habits, he stayed up until three or four in the morning then slept until at least noon. So I just walked over to her.

She had looked delicious and annoyed and the minute I laid eyes on her, I couldn’t think about anything other than how she had shattered beneath me so easily. Twice. Then she’d stood up and I realized Benito had dressed her in something that didn’t suit her at all and it pissed me off. Which was insane because I had never seen her dressed. The sum total of our strange little relationship had occurred with her in a robe and naked beneath.

Maybe that was what had offended me—clothes on her. Even a bathing suit. The thought amused me. I also appreciated she understood the danger when Shelly got curious. Going along with Olivia’s fake fight, I started to pull her away from the table. Adrenaline had me squeezing her hand hard as I said goodbye to the other women. The minute we hit the trees, I said, “Run.”

I sensed the movement behind me already. The sound of the back door opening, male voices. Olivia gave me a panicked look but she obeyed. Bare foot in nothing but the black bikini, she took off down the neighbor’s driveway. My intention was to follow suit after I turned around and took in the scope of what I was facing.

That was a mistake. It lost me precious seconds and distance between myself and Benito’s bodyguards. One lifted his arm and I knew he was going to fire a shot. Wanting to make sure he didn’t hit Olivia, I veered a hard left. The shot rang out and the burn exploded in my right bicep. Fuck. Twice. That was twice in one month in the same freaking arm I’d been shot. It pushed me harder, my legs churning, lungs burning and I cut back to the right and ran toward Olivia, raising my good arm and gesturing wildly for her to get in the damn car. She was standing there, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

“It’s unlocked, get in!” I said.

For whatever reason, she got in the driver’s side. With my left arm, I turned as I approached the car and fired my gun, just as a warning. It didn’t seem to hit anyone but they did pause. The break in stride gave me enough time to jump into my car, shoving at Olivia. She was screaming, which wasn’t helping my ability to concentrate.

“Move over!” I shouted at her.

She was scrambling to get in the passenger seat, but not fast enough. I slid in, under her legs, jerking my keys out of my pants pocket. Her ass was on my forearm, her face somewhere by the glove box but I had the room to shift gears and get my feet on the pedals so I drove.

“Oh, my God!” she screamed. “Wester!”

There was no clue what she actually meant by that, but it didn’t matter. We’d sort it out and upright her later. I pulled out of my parking spot, tore down the street, and barely even glanced to the left before I pulled out into traffic on Alton Road. There were several horns blaring, but a glance in my mirror reassured me we weren’t being followed. I relaxed but didn’t let up on the gas pedal.

My arm was burning like a motherfucker. I ignored it and placed my palm flat on Olivia’s ass to give her a shove so she was further onto the passenger seat.

“Get your hand off my butt!” she screamed from the corner.

That made me smile, despite the situation. I had touched a whole lot more than her butt in a bikini. “I need your legs out of the way. I’m trying to drive.”

After a fair amount of scrambling she managed to pull her legs over the gearshift and onto her seat. She pulled herself up and faced forward. She turned and gave me a glare. “I’m aware of that, thank you very much.” Then her eyes widened.

Here it came. She’d spotted my wound. I looked forward again, concentrating on the road. Miami Beach traffic always sucked. I’d feel a lot better once we were on the causeway and were back at Ricardo’s.

“You’re bleeding! Holy crap, you’re bleeding, Wester!”

“It’s fine.” It was. It hurt but my other gunshot wound was worse. This felt more like a grazing whereas that had been a direct hit.

“That’s not fine, that’s blood!” Her voice was shrill.

She touched my arm and I jerked. I hadn’t been expecting that and it added to my pain. “Seriously, don’t touch me right now.”

“We need to go the emergency room.”

I shook my head. “Not happening. At all. I’ll just bandage it.” I came to a stop at a red light and looked over at her, wanting to reassure her. Panic was high in her voice.

But what I saw made me forget all about Benito possibly being on my ass and my nicked arm. Her breast had completely popped out of her bikini top. There was a whole lot of round creamy flesh. Her nipple was being pushed skyward. My mouth watered. I wanted to bend over and take that peak into my mouth. “You, uh, have a wardrobe malfunction,” I said, gesturing to her breast.

She glanced down and her jaw dropped. “Don’t look!” She yanked the fabric back up.

The light turned and I started driving again. “I’ve already seen you naked.” That was honestly puzzling to me. Why did she care now if I saw a tit?

“You have not seen me naked. I had a robe on.”

“But—” Then I decided to just let it go. She wanted to pretend that having a robe underneath her naked body and on her arms had given her any sort of modesty, then I needed to let her have that delusion. Feeling emotional was normal under the circumstances. She’d been kidnapped and was forced to have sex with me to save her life.

It was fucking with my head. I could only imagine what it was doing to her.

“Do you have clothes at Ricardo’s?” I asked. That would go a long way toward restoring normal if she were actually wearing a bra and panties and maybe some shorts and a T-shirt.

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