Page 145 of My Broken Bodyguard 3: Catch & Bianca

“I see you found the food you love.” His deep voice bounced off the beautiful slate gray kitchen walls.

Don’t look at him, Bianca.

“Yes, thank you.”

His rubber soled boots sounded across the marble floor. He was moving closer.

“Catch, thank you for the food.” I closed the fridge and spun meeting his gaze.

Jesus, the man looked like he just stepped off a runway.

His blond locks were perfectly styled, with a few rebellious curls cascading onto his forehead. His beard was groomed to perfection. The fitted blue-gray suit accentuated his muscular build, and his black boots gleamed on his feet. As he nonchalantly slipped his hand into his pocket, the jacket of his suit revealed a holstered Glock.

“Bianca, you’re home where you belong. You will find a way to come home every other week,” he said, closing the space between us.

“Catch, you know we’re at war at ho-,” I started.

His hand left his pocket and gruffly rubbed his beard.

“Mrs. Rizzo, this is your home. I won’t tell you again.”

Trying to keep an argument from erupting I stated, “Back in Chicago where my friends and I have a war is where I need to return to.”

He roughly grabbed my face and brought his lips close to mine. “Where will you be the week after next?”

“Catch, we’re at war,” I spat.

“Bombshell,” he pushed.

I narrowed my eyes. “Would you like me to purchase a plane ticket and fly back to Jersey?” I replied sarcastically.

Catch bared his straight white teeth. If looks could kill, I’d be dead right now. “The Pituccos own a fleet of private jets. The pilot will be at Midway airport to collect my wife the Friday after next at ten a.m. sharp. If you are not on that plane, Bianca...”

Shit, he was really upset, that was the third time he’s called me by my first name.

“I’ll tie you up and bring you home myself. Do you understand?” he gritted out.

Peering up at him, I stood on my tippy toes and jammed my finger into his chest. “You can’t keep kidnapping me.”

A smile took his sexy lips. “You don’t like it when I sedate you, get you dressed, cradle you in my arms and keep you with me? Because your fucking mine.”

I squeezed the hole between my legs because that bitch loved what he was saying.

“I’m not your possession, Catch.”

He snatched the bonnet off my head and tossed it onto the counter. His big hand found my hair, tugging my locks. “Are you wet, Bombshell?”

“What?” His question threw me off. “No.”

Gripping my hair harder, he slipped his fingers between my folds. A smile widened across his face. “Mrs. Rizzo lied to her husband. You’re soaked.”

He released me long enough to unleash his cock, before I could protest, he had my bare ass planted on the marble countertop.

“I’m going to fuck my wife now. When I get home from work, you better be ready to ride my dick.”

My palms rested on the counter. “Catch, I don’t want to fuck you,” I moaned.

He slid deep inside my walls and my body shivered giving me away. “Oh, shit.”

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