Page 87 of South Beach Bodyguards

Hell, from the minute she had kissed me, I’d been gone. She had this tough exterior and ballsy words, but her eyes spoke to me. This was a woman who hadn’t been given enough attention in her life. I didn’t have a lot of time. She’d only given me now, so I wanted her to remember it, remember this. “This is us,” I told her. “It’s real. None of this is an act. It’s completely, one-hundred percent real.”

“Oh, God,” she said. “It feels so good.”

I swallowed hard, in danger of completely losing control. She did things to me that I couldn’t wrap my head around. Things I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“It feels amazing. You’re amazing.”

Once her own orgasm subsided her eyes widened and she gave a sexy satisfied smile. “You like that?”

“Fuck, yeah.” I was gripping her ass hard and pumping while she dug her nails into my shoulders.

But then she abandoned my arms to pull her shirt over her head and toss it onto the floor. It gave me a great view of her tits bursting over the top of her disheveled bra. Swearing softly, I knew she’d done it on purpose. She was trying to push me off a cliff. My balls tightened and it worked. I burst, locking eyes with her. I refused to look away. I had to see what I did to her. She had to see what she did to me.

The moment went on and on, powerful and aggressive.

She looked away first and I let her. My shoulders were tense, my legs straining. I paused, breathing hard. “Holy shit.”

Then she completely caught me off guard and gave me a smirk. “You’re welcome.”

I laughed. “Smart and sassy. I love it.”

“Back up, my calves are killing me.”

I obeyed immediately. I hadn’t realized she was up on her toes. I should have held more of her weight. But I hadn’t noticed because I had been too busy diving full on into her pussy. “Sorry.” I pulled out and stepped back, brushing her hair from her cheek and forehead.

She went down onto flat feet, but stayed propped against the wall. “I’m not sure I can move.”

That was satisfying, I had to admit. I’d made her weak in the knees. “Good,” I told her. “That means I’ve done my job.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Settle down. Nobody is giving away any medals today.”

Giving my jock an adjustment I grinned at her. “No? Geez. Tough crowd. Not even a bronze?”

“I’m still working on the scoring system.” She flipped her bra back into place. “I’ll keep you posted.”

That kind of killed my vibe. She wasn’t going to keep me posted because this was it. We weren’t going to see each other again. She seemed to realize that, as well, because immediately she bent over to grab her pants, looking flustered. When she stood, her hair fell forward and her cheeks were red.

“You’re bleeding again,” she said. “I should have bandaged it. What the hell is wrong with me?” Rushing across the kitchen with her jeans in her hand, she grabbed the washcloth off the counter and turned to me, trying to delicately swipe at the dried and fresh blood.

“It’s okay, Olivia. I’m fine. This isn’t even worth a bandage at this point.”

She frowned at me. “You’ll get an infection.” Then she held out her hand. “Don’t say it. I know you’re not a wimp. Got it. You’re tougher than bullets.”

I sounded like an ass when she said it like that. I tapped my shoulder. “Yeah, well, this one got the best of me.” I wasn’t fully recovered from that bullet and I had the scar to prove it.

Olivia came over to me and traced my scar ever so lightly. “What happened?”

“Your brother-in-law threw a party and invited idiots. One was all hopped up on coke and booze and decided he hated Ricardo. I got Ricardo out of the way, but not myself in time.” It was a sore subject for me. I was still pissed about it.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Her face was pale. “Is there gunfire going on there frequently?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I realized she wasn’t concerned about me, but about her sister. Maybe I should have played up my injury a little more. I did kind of like the attention, I wasn’t going to lie. “I don’t think your sister is usually around for those parties, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” I scratched my chin, realizing I had backed myself into a corner. “I don’t think she’s the, uh, kind of woman they want at those parties. It’s kind of a no-wives zone.”

“Ricardo is such a pig.” She was messing around with her panties. Half of her was still hanging out, thanks to me.

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