Page 67 of My Broken Bodyguard 2: Ritchie & Tori

Silence again.

“Oh,” I whispered.

She chose to get married in Vegas? It was her life. She deserved to get married wherever she wanted.

“I’ll FaceTime her,” I stated.

“You think that’s all you’ll do? It’s not, Tori,” he bit out.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do? It’s not like I’ve willingly left the state of Illinois. I was kidnapped. The rescue trip home was my first time on a plane. I was unconscious for most of the flight.”

“Just like you plan to put forth effort to come to your new home in Jersey, you need to do the same for your best friend,” he said.

“Ritchie, but I don’t start therapy till next week.”

I was using the therapy as a crutch. And I hadn’t even faced my demons with the psychiatrist yet.

His hand slid over my thigh in a soothing motion. His touch made everything better.

“I’ll get you through the trip,” Ritchie confirmed.

My fingers curled around the steering wheel tighter as I felt the anxiety build in my chest.

“Once we board the jet, I’ll give you a sedative.” His deep voice held a sense of calm to it. Like he was walking through a minefield trying to avoid explosives.

“But you just promised to see Arlis,” I reminded him.

“My uncle will join us on the flight,” he assured.

I pressed the button on the gadget attached to the sun visor. The gate to the warehouse slid open.

Black spots appeared in my line of sight as I parked the SUV in front of the back entrance. Throwing the vehicle in park, I climbed out and darted toward the door. I felt Ritchie’s big, strong hands curl around my body, scooping me into his chest. His soft lips pressed against my forehead.

“I got you, baby.” His deep voice rumbled through my body, putting me at ease.

Ritchie barked orders to Brock before unlocking the door and walking inside.

“Tori, you’ll melt down right in front of me.”

I burrowed into my man’s chest, never wanting to let him go. Who cared if we both smelled like smoke.

Ritchie forcefully closed the door to our bedroom and gently laid me down on the bed. My fingers fumbled with his belt, desperate to have him inside of me. He was becoming my addiction, and I knew it couldn’t end well.

His lips crashed into mine as he quickly removed my shoes, jeans, and panties. With one swift motion, he pushed up my sweatshirt and bra, eagerly taking in my hardened nipple.

My hand instinctively reached for his throbbing cock as a moan escaped my lips. “Ritchie, I can make it through this trip as long as I have you.”

“I’ll be right there with you, baby,” he promised, latching onto my nipple with his teeth while thrusting deeply into my wet pussy.

My body arched off the bed with each powerful thrust.

The pleasure mixed with the pain from the explosion earlier today, a constant reminder of how close we came to death.

“Ritchie,” I moaned, pulling his face towards mine and passionately kissing him.

“We smell like smoke and cologne and perfume,” I chuckled.

“But underneath it all, we still smell like us. One unit,” he grinned.

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