Page 83 of My Broken Bodyguard 2: Ritchie & Tori

I could tell he was fighting back the pain.

My brows lifted. “You over did it,” I muttered.

“I just need to get my second wind back. Nothing’s going to stop me from fucking you long and hard later.”

“Asia, Simone,” I hollered. “Tell Bianca, I went upstairs for a little while.”

“Ok,” they said in unison.

I placed my empty water bottle on a nearby table and grabbed Ritchie’s drink out of his hand. “Let’s go.”

Not sure how I forgot the day from hell Ritchie, and I had earlier. As much as I wanted to party with my best friends’ I had to keep my man from passing out.

Brock cleared a path allowing Ritchie and I to climb the stairs effortlessly. My gorgeous boyfriend was barely hanging on. He held it together long enough to sink onto the sofa.

I dipped a napkin into the ice-cold water swimming in the ice bucket. Kicking off my heels, I pulled my feet under my bottom and dabbed at the beads of sweat forming on Ritchie’s head. This wasn’t good. My man seemed to suffer the most for me. First it was Daryl and his men who shot him and damn near killed him.He was injured again while rescuing me from Rosco. I felt tears prickling the backs of my eyes. My ex-best friend almost killed Ritchie and I this morning. He was thrown from an exploding house. He wasn’t ok. Nor was I. I’d just hid my pain better than Ritchie. Of course, my pain wasn’t as severe as Ritchie’s.

His big hand caressed my waist.

“Hey, it’s going to be ok,” he muttered.

“Is it, Ritchie?” I huffed.

“Someone tried to kill me this morning.” My eyes squeezed shut as I gently rested my head against his. “I almost lost you this morning.”

“We’ll get through this, Tori.”

How could Ritchie be so sure?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

TORI

THE SPECIAL NIGHT IN VEGAS

“All right, big guy, we’re at the hotel.” My lips pressed against his cheek.

His brilliant gray eyes popped open. “Shit, I fell asleep again?”

“Yes, only twice in one night,” I snickered.

Brock climbed out from behind the steering wheel and stood near the front of the vehicle.

“Come on, let’s get upstairs.” I nodded toward the door.

Ritchie opened the rear door, stepped out, buttoned his suit jacket, then stretched his hand out for mine. My tongue slicked across my lips as I felt butterflies flutter in my stomach.

The unbuttoning and buttoning of the suit jacket every time was so fucking hot.

He stared down at me. “What’s that look for? You look like you want to fuck me right here in front of everyone?” he said with a thick Jersey accent.

Holding his gaze, I placed my hands on his pecs. “No, I’m just showing my appreciation for what’s all mine.”

A boyish smirk hit his lips. “Oh, yeah?” His big strong hand squeezed my waist.

Someone honked their horn. Guess we were holding up the valet line.

Ritchie pointed at the driver. “Hold your fucking horses.”

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