Page 20 of My Broken Bodyguard 3: Catch & Bianca

Bianca leaned forward, kissing my lips. I shoved my tongue into her mouth, tasting her minty tongue.

Eyes still closed; she pressed her palms into my chest, breaking our kiss.

“That was nice,” she moaned.

“I know.” Lifting her t-shirt, I sucked her hard nipple through her bra.

“Catch, stop. If you don’t, I’ll want to climb into your lap and let you play with my pussy.”

I sat back in my seat. “Let me? You’re cute. That’s what you want because you can’t get enough.”

“You’re not wrong. Catch, I have to focus. I’ll talk to you later.”

“No, Bianca, you’ll see me later.”

“Goodbye, pushy, fake boyfriend.”

And she was gone.

Keeping Bianca by my side while I spied on her best friend wasn’t possible. It was time to get to work.

***P***

Midafternoon, I followed Tori to Jewel-Osco grocery store. Once she walked inside, I casually strolled toward her parking spot, kneeled next to her car, and pretended to tie my boots. I placed a tracker under her black Mercedes C class. Standing to my full height, I tugged the baseball cap lower over my aviator’s and sauntered toward a nearby coffee shop. The great thing about a tracker was I didn’t have to follow her out of the parking lot. This would throw off the man watching her. Did she always have a security detail? Maybe. After all, her boyfriend was a drug lord.

After purchasing a cup of green tea, I leaned against the long table in front of the window. Tori strutted out of the grocery store. Her eyes moved to the car sitting toward the back of the parking lot. I knew that fucker was following her.

“Excuse me?” I heard a woman’s soft voice beside me.

“Yes?” I responded without tearing my eyes away from the parking lot.

“Is this seat taken?” the woman asked.

I peered down at the curvy brunette from behind my mirrored aviator’s.

A nervous smile teetered on her lips and her cheeks turned a deep red. Women hit on Ritchie and me often. So I was used to it by now.

“No,” I replied, pulling out the chair for her.

She climbed up onto the tall stool.

“Are you on your lunch break?” Her words sounded shaky.

The woman was building up the courage to ask me out.

“Yes. My lunch break is just about over,” I lied.

“Your golden curls are sexy,” she stated in a low, sultry tone.

Women loved the way my hair curled around the sides of the hat. They also liked to touch my hair.

“Thank you.” I flashed a smirk.

“Enjoy your drink. And have a nice day.” I didn’t give her a second glance as I chucked the cup in a nearby garbage can before exiting.

Taking long strides, I moved toward my truck.

“Excuse me, Mr.?” the woman yelled as she sprinted behind me across the parking lot.

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