Page 120 of My Broken Bodyguard 2: Ritchie & Tori

She didn’t know how not to fuck up something good. Growing up, she rarely witnessed a healthy relationship. Out of her group of four girlfriends, only one had parents who were still married.

My father is a piece of the man he used to be. Because he lost my mother. Throughout my childhood, I saw first-hand what healthy love looked like. I planned to give my wife healthy love if it was the last thing I did.

“Tell me where it hurts,” I ordered.

She stared at me for a beat, unsure if she should tell me. Tori didn’t want to get benched literally.

She took my hand and placed it on the side of her chest, then moved it under her breast.

“It hurts there on both sides. I have a sharp pain in my abdomen, too.” She visibly swallowed. “Arlis said I need to rest while I’m here.” Her words were barely a whisper.

My jaw twitched. I was beside myself on the inside. She had a hard time letting me in. The woman hated anyone seeing how vulnerable she was.

“You can’t hide things from me. Tori, it has to stop.”

“Ezra said I have PTSD because of both of the explosions.”

“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week.”

Her brows shot up. “But my war.”

I pressed my lips against the soft skin under her breast. “You need your rest. Your war will be there when you return.”

Her fingers found my wet hair. “I missed you,” she admitted.

“I know.” Pulling back, I met her gaze. “Do you have any idea how it felt to learn she could’ve blown up the entire hotel with you in it?” I gritted out.

“I couldn’t leave my job to see about you like I needed to. That fucked me up, Tori.”

Tears fell from her eyes again. “I’m sorry.” Her hand caressed my face. “I have a lot of enemies, Ritchie.”

“And I’ve provided an army of men to help you fight your battles.”

A smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Thank you.” Tori pressed a hand against her ribs and winced. “Will you make love to me?”

“No.” I kissed her on the lips before standing up to my full height, trying not to show any sign of pain from my current discomfort.

I took the brunt of that explosion last week. And before that, I was involved in another explosion. She needed to rest and so did I. Tonight I’d rest with my head between my wife’s thighs. I’d sleep in tomorrow and get rested before I picked up my cat.

“That slap to your ass was for hiding shit from your husband.”

She curled her hands around the edge of the bench, about to push herself up.

“Nope. Stay there. You can watch me wash my body. Once you’re healed, you can get this dick. In the meantime, you’re cut off.”

She gasped. “Ritchie, you don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do, Mrs. Toscana.”

Her eyes gravitated to my cock and balls as I lathered them with soap.

She was damn near drooling.

A smile lifted my cheeks. She was horny as fuck.

Once I finished cleaning myself, I shut off the water and stepped out of the glass shower door.

Grabbing a towel from the rack, I dried myself off in front of her.

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