Page 22 of Single Mom's Bodyguards
The silence after is thick.
We collapse into a tangled heap on the bed, the three of them touching me. No one says a word for a long time.
Then Sean brushes a wet strand of hair off my face. “Still with us?”
“Barely,” I whisper.
Wesley chuckles. “You’re gonna feel that tomorrow.”
“Pretty sure I already do.”
Huck hands me a water bottle from my corner fridge. I have no idea when he got up to get it. Or when the handcuffs were removed. It all happened so fast. One minute I was sneaking out, the next…well, I’m here.
I drink. Slowly. Then lean back against Huck’s barrel chest while Sean rubs my calf and Wesley pulls the blankets up around us.
For the first time inyears, I feel safe. Ruined in the right way. Naked. Seen. But safe.
“You don’t have to sneak out anymore,” Sean says softly.
Wesley kisses my shoulder. “You want kink? We can do kink.”
Huck’s arms tighten around my waist. “And you don’t need to face this shit alone. Not ever again.”
I close my eyes and let it all sink in. The soreness. The satisfaction. The warmth of three men who would raze the world for me.
There has to be a catch, right? My life is never this simple. But I’ll let tomorrow-Bailey worry about that. For now, I’m safe. I’ll take it.
6
SEAN
I makethe bed before I leave her room.
It’s not about politeness. It’s control. Structure. The one thing I’m good at.
The sheets still smell like sweat and sex and a woman I’ve wanted since I was too young to understand why. There’s a faint print where she pressed her knees into the mattress, or maybe that’s just the memory of the hottest blow job I’ve ever had. If I let myself, I could lose hours right here, memorizing the chaos we left behind. Sparking the fire again. Over and over until we’re all alight.
But I don’t. I don’t memorize her bedroom, her body. I fight eye contact with the walls instead. I pull the comforter tight, flatten the corners, and get the hell out of there with none of my dignity intact. The other three are still sleeping, still blissed out of their minds.
I walk out like nothing happened.
The house is quiet. Morning light pours through tall windows, casting shadows across the wide floors and curved staircase.Every part of this mansion is custom—arches, glass, stone, wood—and every inch whispers Bailey.
This place was designed to keep the world out. And now I’m on the inside. The worst part is—I know better. This isn’t how we do things. Not ever.
Fraternizing with clients is against every protocol I’ve ever written. I’ve had men benched for it. I’ve ended contracts over less. No matter how high the stress, no matter how beautiful the client, the rules are there for a reason.
We don’t blur lines. We don’t get personal. We don’t fuck the woman we’re supposed to protect.
But last night?
I didn’t just blur the lines. I cut through them with a goddamn machete. And I don’t regret it. Not for one second.
She was strong and soaked through with need. She wanted it.Us.Every command, every hand, every inch. Shetookit, like she’d been waiting her whole life to give up control in a way that felt like freedom instead of loss.
We are so fucked.
The curve of her hips in vinyl. The way she begged with her eyes before her mouth ever opened. The way she whimpered when I took control.
