Page 79 of Her Redeemed Protector

I sigh, a deep, weary sound. The responsibility weighs heavily on my shoulders. Raising a boy is not new to me. Micah was just a baby when our father’s health rapidly declined, and we lost him when Micah was only four. I became his father figure.

Children grow up, their perspectives expanding and shifting. Sometimes painfully, like tonight. But Rodolfo is different from Micah. He’s not just a carefree child who loves video games. He’s a boy struggling with grief and adapting to change.

I contemplated the possibility of taking him with me. But he shares a much deeper bond with his grandmother than he does with me—we’ve only seen each other in person a couple of times, and he was only four years old then. When we lost his mother, I was in a state of disarray, both physically and mentally. His grandmother became his safety and continues to be so. Not pursuing my adoption of him was the right decision.

I dial Marta’s number, hoping the boy will pick up. Thecall connects for a moment, then abruptly cuts off. I’m sure it’s him, still harboring anger toward me. I send a text, encouraging him to start over.

As I glance at the paused game, waiting for ‘RodeoRod’ to reappear, I realize this is not just about guiding him. It’s also about defining my role in his life without overstepping or retreating. And how will this fit into my relationship with Savannah?

Life is about to get more complicated.

30

SAVANNAH

Kalispell was an adventure and a half. The yaks, with their shaggy coats and resolute stubbornness, matched only by the roughness of the terrain, tested my endurance like nothing before. And then there were the cowboys, each one seemingly on a quest to prove he was the alpha of the pack, their bravado as craggy as the mountains we navigated. It was a challenge that would fray even the most patient saint’s nerves.

After two grueling weeks out in the field, on horseback from dawn until dusk, my legs ache with a deep-seated soreness that’s hard to shake, and my mind feels like it’s been wrung dry. But no amount of exhaustion could ever quell my excitement at the thought of returning home—to him.

“So good to have you back,” Huxley growls low. His visceral scent saturates my senses as our bodies press against each other. The friction of our flesh against flesh ignites a shower of electric sparks, filling me up with a crackling energy despite my aching muscles.

Then, his phone vibrates against the bedside table.

“Is that Red Mark?” I ask, noting how his eyes flicker momentarily to the screen before meeting mine again.

“No, it’s nothing,” he dismisses with a kiss, his grip around my neck tightening as he presses his hips against mine, adding a heavier weight. “Just ignore it. Where were we?”

I smile at his attempt to keep us on course. “You were happy that I’m home.”

“Correction. I’m so happy to have you in my bed.” His words caress my ears, sending seductive chills down my spine as the space between my thighs pulses with desire.

As my glutes tighten and strain, I feel the immense pressure building in my core from his throbbing erection. My body is racked with pain, yet I’m compelled to continue.

I moan as Hux moves his rock-hard length just that much further.

“I know you can take it,” he says, half-needling. “Those days off the grid haven’t made you shy, have they?”

I let out a groan, expressing a state of happy annoyance. His words not only bolster my confidence but also fuel a growing impatience inside me. It’s true. After weeks of anticipation, his impressive length feels like unfamiliar terrain, stretching me in ways I’ve never experienced before. After all, not only does distance make the heart grow fonder, but it also makes the reunion of our bodies incredibly rewarding.

I surrender myself completely, embracing the torturous ecstasy.

“You miss me this much, huh?” he taunts, his fingers skillfully caressing my slick, throbbing center, matching the tempo of his fervent thrusts.

“You have no frigging idea!” I huff.

Building up momentum, he exclaims breathlessly, “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

I feel myself teetering on a cliff’s edge. The sound of his ragged breaths, the taste of his sweat on my lips, and the intoxicating aroma of our passion push me over. And I freefall—thestraining pain of my muscles is swallowed into the blissful sensation of an orgasm.

After a few hastened kisses as we pant, Huxley’s steady heartbeat beneath my ear lulls me into a half-sleep, his sturdy chest a snug pillow. But it’s broken when I stir to his murmured apologies in the dark.

“Hux?” I whisper, nudging him slightly.

“Sorry… I’m so sorry…” His voice is thick, almost pained.

He’s fast asleep, his breathing even and deep. What is he apologizing for? Or to whom? It churns unpleasantness in my gut, but I force my eyelids to close, trying to drift back to sleep. It’s fleeting. A buzz from his phone disturbs the stillness. However, drowned by exhaustion, it takes me a while to open my eyes.

The bed beside me is empty, and the sheets are a chilling reminder of his absence.

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