Page 78 of The Bodyguard Affair
He swirls his finger over the fabric until I’m tensing and shifting, grinding down on his hand. “Good girl. Keep going.”
My body reacts instantly when his index finger dips under the wet fabric, brushing and thrumming in slow, deliberate strokes exactly where I need it, winding me so tight, I forget where I am or who I am. Instead, I focus on Nolan. I toss my head back to meet his eyes, begging, saying all kinds of filthy things I’d never imagined I would say out loud.
He’s barely slipped the tip of his finger in before my whole body clenches around it, contracting, shaking, thrusting into his hand in the most intense climax I’ve ever felt. It splinters and fractures everywhere, hot liquid rolling through me long past the point I thought possible. He holds me as I unravel beneath him, his nose tucked into my neck.
I take a couple seconds to catch my breath before placing my palms on his chest, lowering myself back down, my chest still heaving as the aftershocks keep coming. “That was…holy shit.”All I can think about is how badly I want to make him come. How I want to see his face when he loses all control. I want him so badly, it physically hurts. I bite my cheek guiltily, knowing full well I needed to get to a meeting. Five minutes ago. “I’d love to stay and take care of you, but I have to go,” I explain, pulling my skirt down.
“Don’t even worry about it,” he says. “You have no idea how badly I needed that. Just that.”
I bite my lip, my stomach dipping. Gone are the courage and unabashed confidence I had all of two minutes ago. “Do you, um, want to hang out tonight? We could, um, continue this?”
His breathing is still heavy, labored as he tries to collect himself. “Fuck. I do. More than anything. But Em’s youngest is sick and my mom’s nurse is on vacation. I have to stay at home.”
“No worries at all. Totally understandable.”
“Unless…” He eyes me for a moment. “You could come to my place?”
“I can definitely do that!” I say, far too eager for my liking.
“Fair warning, my mom’s house is going on the market, so things have been a little crazy the last few days. There are boxes and piles of junk everywhere.”
He’d mentioned that a couple times, that they were selling his mom’s place. “Oh, that’s right. Did the listing go up yet?”
“Not yet. We’ve been trying to get the house sorted for photos. Em put a hard deadline on next week, though they don’t think it’ll be on the market for long. Apparently, the Realtor already has clients who are interested based on the lot alone.” His mom’s house is older and small, but the lot is huge and private, with tall hedges in the backyard. It’s also in a prime location just west of downtown. I have no doubt people will flock to it.
“Don’t even worry about it. I’m not coming over for the aesthetics.”
His entire face lights up at my response. “Great. Around eight?”
“Sounds good. Well…See you tonight?” Before I back out of the closet, I give him an awkward thumbs-up. God no. Not the thumbs-up. Why am I suddenly feeling so shy again?
Another blinding smile. “See you tonight, Andi.”
Despite embarrassing myself into oblivion, I can’t stop smiling the rest of the day.
Chapter 33
Nolan
Em:I just got an opportunity to go to a beauty convention in Toronto this week. Huge opportunity for networking. Thoughts? I know I’m supposed to stay with Mom overnight when you’re in Montreal, but I was curious if Theresa could fill in?
Nolan:Go! It shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll text her and ask.
I’m counting down the hours, minutes—who am I kidding?—seconds until Andi comes over. It took me longer than expected to recover from our “talk” in the storage closet today. And even hours later, I’m still not a fully functional human being.
Not to be too dramatic, but seeing her lose it like that in my arms was otherworldly. Utterly addictive. I would have lost itright there with her if it had gone on much longer. I already can’t wait to do it again, but better.
Before heading home, I make a pit stop at the farm to spend some time with Cody. I can’t stay long today, though it’s better than nothing. I need to get home and prep for Andi.
My first order of business when I get home is to do a deep clean of my room, as well as the living room. Not that I’m expecting anything. I want to go at Andi’s pace, whatever she’s comfortable with. Mostly, I really want to hang out with her, breathe the same air, even if it just involves us watching sad movies together with cheesecake.
Either way, a cleanup is overdue. Emma texted the other day to ask whether her Realtor friend could come take photos of the house for the listing, and as it stands, things are still in a state of chaos with half-packed boxes stacked in the hallway and piles of random items, which I’m still unclear as to whether they’re to keep or toss.
I’m in the kitchen wrestling with the overflowing garbage when a piercing scream cuts the air.Mom. I drop the bag immediately and sprint down the hallway.
It takes a few frantic seconds to figure out where the sound came from. The bathroom. When I find her, she’s lying on her side against the cold, hard tiles. Her clothes are drenched, clinging to her frail frame, and her entire right arm is an alarming shade of crimson.
“Mom! What happened?” I shout, rushing to her side.
