Serial Passion: A Steamy Bodyguard Romance

by Kelli Walker

  “I need a damn shirt,” I murmured to myself.

  I strode back into the room she had offered me and closed the glass doors behind me. I pulled the curtains, blocking off any view from the kitchen to the room. I reached down into my pants and pulled my cock up. Allowing it more room to breathe before I searched around for a shirt. I bent over, grimacing at the thickening girth that wouldn't go away. I pulled my shirt over my head and smoothed it down my torso, hoping that some deep breaths would help me settle down.

  But as I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth, I couldn’t get my erection to go away.

  I thrust the doors open and made my way down the stairs. Down to the main level of Dr. Jones’ home. I ripped the towel off its hook as it hung in the small corridor by the staircase of her home. I shoved myself through the door and into the guest bathroom. I locked the door behind me and closed my eyes, listening to the trickling of the water through the pipes as Dr. Jones showered upstairs.

  The thought of her dripping with water and droplets falling off those puckered nipples. It was enough to drive me wild.

  “Cold shower, Rocco. Very, very cold,” I murmured.

  Then, I began to shed my clothes, piling them onto the floor at my feet.

  Charity

  I waited by my bedroom door until I heard him walk down the stairs. My hand trembled as I reached out for my bathrobe, then slowly I inched the door back open. His musk was still in the hallway. His scent, intermingled with a spicy cologne he put on every morning. I dashed down the hallway and darted back into the bathroom. I closed the door and locked it, preventing anything from happening to me while I was in the shower. Not that I thought anything could happen. It wasn’t like Rocco would come in here and watch me. Or get in with me.

  The issue was that I kind of wanted him to.

  “Get a grip, Charity. It’s just a chest,” I said to myself.

  But, it was so much more than that.

  His tattoos were phenomenal. And the strength of his muscles left me with a cotton mouth. I knew the man was big, but seeing his barreled chest stretched with muscle and the faint lines of his abs running underneath the hem of his jeans? It was too much for me.

  Three days. He’s only been here three days. Get a hold of yourself.

  I dropped my towel and stepped into the steaming hot shower. I always enjoyed my showers hot. I wanted my skin red by the time I was done. I enjoyed listening to the bacteria scream its way down my body before circling the drain. I didn’t feel clean after cold showers. Or even lukewarm ones. If the bathroom wasn’t filled with steam, then I hadn’t taken a hot enough shower to get myself clean.

  Maybe it was the meticulous surgeon in me. But as I ran my washcloth full of bubbles over my skin, my mind wasn't on the heat of the shower.

  It was on the heat of Rocco’s gaze.

  The smell of him had captivated me. But seeing him partially naked had my mind spinning. His chiseled arms. His throbbing abs. The cascading tattoos that ran one into the other. He had them all down the front of his chest. He had them over his shoulders and down to the middle of his biceps on each arm. Geometric patterns and thick lines with accented dots. All of it, shaded in different colors. All of it, reflective against his tanned skin. The black outlines of his tattoos seemed blacker against his perfect skin and the crimson reds and dark greens called to the tips of my fingers. The entire geometric motif was almost tribal, and it mesmerized my mind as I closed my eyes.

  Maybe he’s got more on his back.

  I ripped my eyes open and stepped underneath the stream of the shower. I tossed my washcloth over to the side, trying to rid my mind of thoughts regarding him. But the harder I tried to erase his gaze from my mind, the more I focused on him. On the way he licked his lips in my presence. On the way his eyes slid up and fell down my body.

  On the way he seemed to devour me before forcing himself down the stairs.

  “Shit, Charity. Come on,” I groaned.

  I wrapped my arms around my chest as my nipples puckered more. I had no idea if he could see them through my towel in the hallway, and I hoped to God he hadn’t. How embarrassing would that have been, getting aroused by my shirtless bodyguard? I leaned my head against the tiles of my shower, releasing my mind from its own judgment. I thought about what he might look like without those pants on. If his thighs throbbed just as much as his arms did. If his calves rippled as much as his abs did.

  If the swollen muscles of his back were etched with shaded, geometric tattoos as well.

  I whimpered as my pelvis heated. I moved my legs and shivered as my pussy lips rubbed against my clit. I hated it. I hated feeling this way about a man. It was distracting, and distraction was something my life couldn’t afford. Being a surgeon and a doctor took focus. I couldn't allow emotional and sexual issues to stunt me personally because it affected my focus professionally. And yet, I loved it. I loved feeling this alive again. I loved imagining all the things I thought a man like Rocco could do to me.

  I hadn’t been this physically turned on by a man since my medical residency in my twenties. Almost a damn decade ago.

  “Fuck it,” I said.

  I reached up and plucked my removable shower head from its cradle. I turned around and pressed my back against the wall, then slid down to the bottom of the shower floor. I clicked the shower head until the waterfall setting turned into a nice, thick stream of water.

  Then, I closed my eyes and parted my pussy lips with my fingers.

  My head fell back against the shower wall as I teased myself. And instantly, his face came to mind. That steel gray stare that pinned me as soon as I walked out of the bathroom. That thick head of black hair I’d latch onto while he lapped at my pussy. Those large, strong, callused hands that could probably pick me up without a second thought and pin me to my bed.

  “Rocco,” I whispered.

  The stream of water trailed up the inside of my thigh. My pussy jumped as it got closer, forcing juices down my ass crack. My head fell off to the side as I licked my lip, undressing him in my mind’s eye. His cock, aching and hard as it swung between his legs. Dripping from its tip. Begging to be inside me.

  “I’d be tight, too,” I sighed.

  The water stream hit my pussy lip and I jumped. Oh, this wouldn’t take very long. I traced the outline of my entrance, feeling the jetstream tease me the way I knew his tongue would. I felt my back falling to a bed. I closed my eyes and saw him hovering over me, his ice cold gray gaze sparkling with want for me. I felt his lips on my neck. Kissing down my chest. Wrapping around my pert nipples as I tugged at them with my fingertips.

  “Shit, Rocco. Oh!”

  I giggled as he nibbled my skin. Bit into my breast a little too hard, leaving his mark behind on me. I watched his eyes as they traveled further downward. Traveling my body. His tongue, leaving a wet trail behind as his hands pinned my hips to the bed. I felt his calluses. I felt his heat. I heard his groan and grunts as he made his way to my pussy. Just as the jetstream wandered up my slit.

  I jumped back into the wall as the water hit my clit. My pussy bloomed like a rose, opening up as my legs spread wider. My eyes rolled back. My hand cupped my breast the way I knew Rocco would reach up and grab it. I felt his hands holding me down as his tongue plunged into my folds. I saw him lapping me up, his eyes never leaving him. I saw his gaze dipping down between my thighs as I wrapped my legs around him. Squeezing my thighs around that stern face of his and drenching it with my juices.

  “Rocco. Rocco. Please, it’s been so long. Don’t you dare stop.”

  I bucked against the stream of water as my back slid down. I found myself laying on the shower floor before too long, my legs propped up against the wall. My heels dug in. My hips rose off the ground and I could have sworn I felt Rocco’s hands slide against my ass. My eyes squeezed shut. I felt him lapping at me like a hungry dog. I bucked into his tongue, feeling my legs quiver around his face. Feeling my thighs squeeze his cheeks. Feeling my juices
drip down his chiseled jawline as his large hands gripped the whole of my ass.

  “Rocco. Please. I’m cumming. I’m cumming. Rocco, yes. Rocco! Yes!”

  My jaw unhinged in silent pleasure and my eyes rolled back. I felt the shower head fall from my hand as my juices dripped down my skin. Down my ass. Onto the floor of the shower as the water sprayed underneath my back. My heels dug into the wall. My toes curled so deeply my calves ached. My back collapsed to the shower, splashing the water around as I panted to catch my breath.

  I saw him hovering over me. Those thin lips of his curling up into the smallest smile before he cupped my face. I felt his thumb brushing against my flushed skin as I smiled up at him. I felt his thick cock pulsing at my tired pussy. I felt him dripping precum onto my skin as he waited his turn. I felt the heat of his body fall over me. Shut me off from the world. I felt his thick muscles writhing against me, lining himself up with my entrance. It felt so real. So vivid. So right.

  My eyes shot open, afraid of what my dreams would bring next if I dared to push them any further. Not because I didn’t want it. Not because I didn’t crave it. But because if I didn’t stop it, I might go out and seek it. I might go out and stalk it. I might go out and claim what my body apparently wanted.

  And when I opened my eyes, I watched his ghost fade away. I watched his body disappear. I felt an aching loneliness drape over me in the shower as my shower head continued to barrel against my skin. I stared up at the ceiling and watched it spin. I felt the earth tilting, trying to recover from the strongest orgasm I’d had in years.

  I felt his warmth dissipate from my skin, replaced with the warmth of the water still spraying from my shower. Except for the warmth his hand. The warmth his thumb.

  The feeling of that small stroke against my cheek lingered, and it tugged a smile across my lips.

  Rocco

  The night had been long, but I got through it. The cold shower helped settle me down long enough to fall asleep, which was much needed. I woke up to every sound. Every crack. Every footstep above me. I didn't know how many times Dr. Jones had gotten up last night, but every single time her fucking feet hit the floor, my eyes snapped open. Even though the room above me was empty, I heard the pitter patter of her walking creaking the floor above me. I’d laid there, breathing. Analyzing. Holding my breath until she’d make her way back to her room. Then, I’d drift back off to sleep.

  Until she woke up and did it again.

  I drew in a deep breath as I sat up, taking in the streams of morning sun that came through the slats of windows that lined the top of my wall. I grunted and groaned, pulling on my clothes and trying to wake myself up. It had been a few years since I’d done personal in-home duty like this. Fucking hell, it sucked. I shook my head and came out of the room, noticing that Dr. Jones wasn’t up yet. I filled up the coffee pot and started it brewing, knowing damn good and well I’d need a cup or two before that woman woke up.

  Then, I ventured downstairs.

  “Morning, boss,” the man said.

  I stuck my head out the door, taking stock of the guard standing watch at the door. I peeked around as he stood there, his hands clasped behind his back.”

  “If you’re looking for a note or packages of any sort, there weren’t any when I got here this morning,” the man said.

  I took one last look around before I nodded, then closed the door in front of me.

  No note. Nothing. For the third day in a row since the drop-off of that first letter. It seemed as if my plan to draw the stalker closer wasn’t working like I had hoped. Maybe the new post outside had scared someone off. And if so, that made my job a hell of a lot easier. Just sit back, relax, and wait until the police tracked down the asshole in the first place.

  But I knew the job well enough to know that nothing was ever that easy.

  I pulled out my phone as I made my way upstairs. The smell of coffee filled the kitchen as I approached it, and I let the scent relax my muscles. I closed my eyes and drew it in. Gave myself a few seconds to collect my thoughts before typing a message off to Matthew.

  House is secured. Still no letters. Anything on your end?

  I heard Dr. Jones’ door open up as I put my phone back into my pocket. I took up my station next to my bedroom door, my hands clasped in front of me. I watched her walk down the stairs. Her blonde hair was matted against her head on one side like a drunken cockatoo while she ran her fingers through it. She yawned as she came down the stairs. Which didn’t shock me, because the entire block probably knew how terribly she slept last night. My eyes took her in. The way she hung onto the banister of the staircase a little too hard. The way she had tied her silken robe a little too loosely around her waist. All of it, indicative of a woman who was too tired to do even the smallest of things.

  “Mmm, I smell coffee,” she groaned.

  I nodded my head over to the pot and watched her eyes flutter over to me. Her eyes left mine as quickly as they approached, but once she looked away a flush appeared in her cheeks. I quirked an eyebrow. I watched as that heated tint blushed her cheeks before trickling down her neck.

  Huh.

  Interesting.

  Charity pulled out two mugs from the cabinet before filling them with coffee. She handed one over to me silently and our fingers brushed together. She ripped her arm back, almost dropping the mug into my palm before she shook out her hand. I buried my grin as I brought the coffee to my mouth.

  Good thing I wasn’t the only one flustered from yesterday.

  She mindlessly sipped her coffee as she got started on breakfast. She cracked eggs into the sizzling skillet and cooked them sunnyside up. She plopped two eggs onto some buttered toast before drizzling a freshly-made hollandaise sauce over it. Then, she fried up some bacon and slapped that onto the toast as well. A slice of cheese. A bit of mustard. She closed the open-faced sandwich off with another toasted piece of buttered bread before she turned and looked at me.

  “I’ll set it on the table for you. You can eat it when you’re ready,” she said.

  I made my way over to the table and sat down where she put the plate. The breakfast sandwich smelled amazing and my mouth was already watering over it. I picked it up and took a massive bite of it, watching her as she blankly stared down into her skillet. I watched her piece together a sandwich of her own, then she reached for her mug and came to sit by me.

  But the silence didn’t last for very long.

  “Is the investigation going well?” she asked.

  My eyes slowly panned over to hers as I held my mouth open over the sandwich.

  “Oh, come on. I’m stuck with you. You don’t talk. But I know you’re capable of nodding your head. You had to have seen this coming,” she said.

  I took a large bite of my sandwich as I nodded.

  “So, is the investigation going well?” she asked again.

  I nodded in response and watched a small spark of hope ignite in her beautiful brown stare.

  “Good. That’s good. Do you have any suspects?” she asked.

  And again, I met her question with a nod.

  “Are you guys working with the police? Or alongside them with your own--?”

  She snickered to herself as I took another bite of the wonderful sandwich she had made.

  “Yes or no questions. Okay. Are you guys working with the police?” she asked.

  One nod.

  “Is there anything I can do to help speed things up?” she asked.

  One shake of my head.

  “Fair enough. Are you comfortable in your room?” she asked.

  I nodded my head twice, hoping to communicate how comfortable and how welcome she had made me feel.

  “Good. Do you need new sheets on the bed?”

  I shook my head.

  “Do you need any more pillows?”

  Another shake of my head.

  “Were you born without a voice box and that’s the reason why you don’t speak?” she asked.

  I grinned at her
question, but didn’t have time to shake my head ‘no’. Something caught the corner of my eye through the window and I immediately turned my head. I saw something headed for the glass. Ready to crash through it in a split second. I slammed my sandwich down and lunged myself at Dr. Jones. I wrapped my arms around her and took her to the floor as she screamed out. The window shattered as I pulled her underneath the table. The rainfall of glass coated the floor around us as I pinned her to the ground. I covered her head. Curled myself around her, assuming the worst.

  Assuming someone had just thrown some sort of a grenade through the window.

  “What’s going on!?” she shrieked.

  I heard the front door fly open and I reached for my gun before a voice hit my ears.

  “Boss! You guys okay in here!?”

  Just the man from the front porch.

  I felt Dr. Jones curling her hands into my shirt. Pulling me closer as I held her against my body. I holstered my gun and wrapped my arms around her. I saw the guard man from outside slowly coming up the stairs. He had his gun drawn. His eyes trained on the landscape around us. But when my eyes fell to the object in the middle of the kitchen, I slowly released Dr. Jones from my grasp.

  It was just a brick.

  I heard the sound of tires peeling away and I scrambled from underneath the table. I felt Dr. Jones reaching for me, but I knocked her hands away. She whimpered underneath the table as the guard man from the porch tried to talk softly to her. Coax her shaking form out from underneath the table.

  “It’s okay. It’s just a brick with a note on it. It’s safe. Come with me,” he said.

  I lunged at the shattered window and leaned out it. I saw the smoke the peeling tires kicked up as a dark green truck sped down the road. I squinted my eyes and memorized everything I could about the damn thing. The logo on the back of the bed. The color. As much of the license plate as I could. The fucking design on the hubcaps. Anything that would help us identify who the hell that truck belonged to once we could track it down.