Page 7 of Rugged Guardian

After I help Angelica clear the table, she grabs a couple of fresh beers from the fridge, and we sit on her porch to watch the sunset.

Angelica leans forward, her eyes locked on mine. “Waylon, can I ask you something personal?”

“Depends on what it is,” I say, half-joking. Truth is, I’d answer any question.

“Are you married?” she blurts, her cheeks turning pink.

The question catches me off guard. “No, I’m not married. Why do you ask?”

“I saw you at the grocery store with that man, and you were buying tampons?” she questions, looking flustered.

I can’t help but laugh. “You mean Harley? He’s my friend. I was helping him with something.” It’s not a lie, but also not the whole truth. “There’s no one special in my life right now.”

Relief washes over her face, and she smiles. “Good to know.”

“What about you?” I ask. I suspect I know the answer to my question, but I still have to ask. “You have a family back home?”

A pained look crosses Angelica’s face as she shakes her head. She picks up her beer and takes a long drink. “No. I almost got married a couple of times, but…” Her eyes swim with memories, her words careful as she says, “It never worked out. I’m not seeing anyone.”

She meets my eyes with startling openness, and something inside me shifts. She’s still interested. I’d be blind not to see the chemistry and attraction that still exists between us. I’ve always wondered what would’ve happened if her family hadn’t sent her away and forbade her from seeing me.

I think it’s high time I found out.

“Come here,” I say, standing and holding out my hand.

“Waylon, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” I confess, squeezing her hand gently as she places it in mine.

She turns to face me. “Do you think… Maybe…”

Her eyes search mine, and I realize how much I still love her. Despite the years apart, despite the family feud, despite everything, my heart still belongs to Angelica Reynolds.

I pull her into my arms and kiss her with all the passion I’ve suppressed since we were teenagers in love. I kiss her with intensity, trying to make up time for the past twenty years.

Her lips are soft and warm, her taste sweet and familiar, sending shockwaves through me. I tighten my grip on her waist, tugging her closer, our bodies flush. Her heart thuds wildly against my chest, matching the rhythm of mine.

Angelica trails her fingers up my roughened cheeks to tangle in my hair, holding me to her. Our tongues dance together like they never stopped, and two decades were merely the blink of an eye. I swallow her gasp greedily. I don’t want to miss anything about her.

She clings to me fiercely, her fingers curving around the back of my neck, nails scraping lightly against my skin. The sensation sends shivers down my spine, every nerve ending alight with sensation. I want more. Need more.

“Waylon,” she breathes against my lips, drawing out raw emotions I never thought I’d feel again.

“What is it?” I manage to say, pulling back enough to see her expression. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes sparkling with what I can only describe as pure love.

“I... I never stopped loving you.”

I run my hands up her body, cupping her full breasts.

“Neither did I, Angelica,” I confess in a ragged whisper. The truth of it burns a brand in my heart, searing through any remnants of hesitation.

She gasps softly as I stroke her nipple with my thumb through the thin fabric of her blouse. Her breath hitches as she arches her body into mine, and I give into the desire that’s been raging in me since she came back. I snake a hand down to her plump ass, pulling her closer. Her soft curves mold to my body send a rush of desire straight to my cock.

I walk her backward until she’s pressed against the front door. Her blouse pulls taut, and I can clearly see the outline of her lacy bra underneath. I groan and grind my hips into hers, pressing my cock to the heat between her legs. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she bites down on her lower lip, a sign that she’s holding back a moan.

The sight drives me crazy.

Her moan escapes as I slip my fingers under the edge of her blouse. “Make love to me, Waylon.”

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