Serial Passion: A Steamy Bodyguard Romance

by Kelli Walker

  I ran in front of everyone and went to go get my car. I tossed her things into the back, then quickly drove my car up to the front entrance of the hospital. I unlocked the door and jogged around as Reese helped Charity out of the wheelchair. Dr. Goldstein put the brakes on its tires as I held the door open, and Charity clung to her friend as she slid into my passenger seat.

  But when Reese tried to help her buckle her seatbelt, Charity practically shoved her away.

  “I’ve got it,” Charity bit.

  We all watched as she fumbled with it. Felt around and tugged at the belt itself. I looked over at Reese and saw the worry in her eyes. I looked back at Dr. Goldstein as saw the tentative look in his eye. I knew he was debating on whether or not to re-admit her. On whether or not to get her back into her room.

  And I knew Charity wouldn’t do well with something like that.

  I rushed back around and jumped into the driver’s seat, then reached over and placed my hand on top of Charity’s.

  “I can do this,” she whispered.

  “If you don’t prove to them that you can let us help, they’ll re-admit you. Just let me buckle you in,” I murmured.

  She released the belt to me and I quickly clipped her in. I watched her settle into my seat, the bandages around her eyes becoming slightly damp. The discoloration broke my heart. The way she looked so defeated made my heart sink to my toes. I wanted to make this better. I wanted to snap my fingers and give Charity her sight back. Or give her mine while I suffered through the lack of it. My job didn’t hinge on my ability to see. Sure, I’d never get myself back into the field. But, there were softwares I could purchase to make paperwork easier.

  But Charity’s job? She needed her eyes to work.

  “Just get me out of here,” she whispered.

  I nodded at Reese and the doctor. I watched her friend reach out and close my door, worry draped over her stare. I pulled away from the hospital and started driving us back to my place, weaving around town and taking it as slowly as I possibly could.

  “I like hot dogs,” I said.

  Charity’s isolated gaze slowly panned over to face me.

  “What?” she asked.

  “We never did get to finish our conversation in the hallway a couple of days ago. You asked me what else I liked other than poetry. Remember?”

  She nodded slowly. “I do.”

  “Well, I like hot dogs,” I said.

  “Hot dogs.”

  “Yeah. Always have. Growing up, they were a cheap meat to purchase. So, I got very creative at cooking them into other dishes. Most people who live off a food like that can’t stand it in their adult years, but I still love a good hot dog.”

  “I could take them or leave them,” she said plainly.

  “Not when I make them for you. I’ll cook them for you tonight,” I said.

  “We’re not going back to my place, are we?” she asked.

  I came rolling to a stop at a light just ten minutes from my home.

  “I figured it wouldn't be a smart decision, seeing as the flashback episode you had a couple of days ago was pretty rough. Being in a place like that, surrounded by smells and--.”

  “That’s fine. You don’t have to explain. I was simply asking is all,” she said.

  “Would you prefer to go back home?” I asked.

  I watched her hands twist up into her shirt. I watched her white-knuckle the fabric, she held it so tightly. Her jaw clenched and she cleared her throat as her leg began to bounce. And as we pulled away from the stoplight, I reached over and placed my hand over hers.

  The gesture made her jump. Like she hadn’t heard or felt me coming.

  “Deep breaths. They always help me when my mind starts to try and draw me back,” I said.

  “You--... you struggle with…?”

  I sighed as I made a sharp right-hand turn, making my way down to the ocean’s edge.

  “I don’t struggle like I used to. But yes, sometimes they get bad. I’ll walk you through them. Teach you coping mechanisms. But mostly, it just takes time,” I said.

  I watched her nod before she opened her palms to me. She wrapped both of her hands around my massive one, holding me close as her fingers shivered. I drove us closer to my home. Closer to my beachfront property I had purchased after my first big break with my company. It would be new for me, having a woman in my place. I never brought them back to my place. I got hotels, or we crashed at her home. Or townhome. Or apartment. Never had a woman stepped foot into my home. I drew that line for many personal reasons.

  Charity would be the first.

  And I found myself wearing that badge with pride instead of fear.

  Charity

  I didn’t need to go home to know I wouldn’t be okay there. Thinking about it sent me into a tailspin in my mind. I tried to fight it as Rocco drove us to wherever we were headed. His place. Or a hotel. I wasn't really paying attention. I wrapped my hands up tightly into my shirt before his hand came down onto mine. Hearing and knowing he knew what this felt like ached me in the pit of my gut.

  It also reassured me that he could help me through all this.

  “We’re here,” Rocco said.

  I unbuckled my seatbelt before I fiddled with my door, trying to unlock it and get it open. I felt around for the button to unlock it. My fingers felt around for the latch to simply pull it. I fought with the door before I brought my hand down into it in frustration, thumping it with the heel of my hand.

  Then, I felt it slowly open.

  The first thing I smelled was salt water. It hung heavily in the air as Rocco grabbed my arm. He helped me slide out of his massive vehicle. Probably an SUV or something of that sort. The crashing of the waves caught my ear. Seagulls were heard off in the distance. I felt the anger and the pain and the heartache slowly melt away. Washed away by the waves of the shoreline we were apparently parked at.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  Rocco threaded my arm around his. “My home.”

  “You live at the beach?”

  “Atlantic beach, to be specific.”

  “We’re at Atlantic beach right now?” I asked.

  “Is that a problem?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s--it’s great. My um… my parents used to bring me here all the time in the summer.”

  “I personally enjoy it during the fall and winter. No tourists. No trash left on the beach. A chill in the air as the waves batter the shoreline.”

  I heard the love in his voice. The awe of it all. Between the sound of adoration falling from his lips and the heavy smell of the salted water, it killed me that I couldn’t see anything. Rocco led me up the porch steps. One by one, counting them out for me. My feet fell onto a sturdy wooden porch before I heard a door unlock and open, then he led me into the warm expanse of his home.

  A home I could tell was big simply by the feel of it.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “Wow what?” Rocco asked as he closed the door behind me.

  “It’s huge.”

  He chuckled. “How do you know that?”

  “I can feel it. I’m standing in a big expanse, aren’t I? The way my voice is bouncing off the--.”

  I stopped my statement in my tracks. I didn’t want to say anymore. I didn’t want to explain to him what was going on in my mind. What my mind was doing in order to cope. I didn’t want to cope. I didn’t need to cope. I didn’t need to grow complacent.

  What I needed was to fucking get better.

  “You’re standing in my foyer. There’s gray-and-white swirled marbled flooring underneath you and a clear crystal chandelier hanging over your head,” Rocco said.

  “What else?” I asked.

  “Would you like me to give you the grand tour?”

  Anything to distract me from how good I’m getting at being blind.

  “I’d love it,” I said breathlessly.

  “We’ll start upstairs so I can set your stuff down,” Rocco said.

  “Wait.
My stuff?”

  “Your friend Reese brought by a small duffle bag of what I assume are clothes.”

  “She did?”

  Rocco linked my arm with his again before we started walking off to the side.

  “She did. I guess she figured it wouldn't be a good idea to take you back to your place. A smart one, that woman,” he said.

  “Reese is very intelligent. I’ve worked with her for years,” I said.

  “First step up. There’s twenty of them.”

  “What do they look like?” I asked.

  My stairs are marbled like my floors with cherry mahogany banisters. There is one that slowly cascades up each side of my entry foyer.”

  “Sounds expensive.”

  “I’ve invested well into my home. I’m proud of it. This is where I want to be, so I make it comfortable,” he said.

  “Nothing wrong with that,” I said.

  “The walls are a soft gray. Like the marbling of my floors. But, the upstairs has plush carpet. It holds onto the heat better in the wintertime than the marble does downstairs.”

  “What color is the carpet?”

  “White.”

  “Sounds hard to keep clean,” I said.

  “I’ve been debating on whether or not to replace it. Because you’re right, it’s a bitch to keep clean. Last step, let me help.”

  I leaned onto Rocco and steadied myself. And instantly, I felt the texture of the floor underneath my shoes change. I smiled as I bounced on it a little bit. The carpet was thick. It had a bit of give to it. I smiled at the thought as Rocco turned me left, then instantly made a sharp right.

  “This is the main hallway upstairs. The walls are the same color throughout the house. Same with the carpets. My home has five bedrooms and five-and-a-half bathrooms. A library and a smaller room that I use as an in-home office space. A kitchen with stainless steel appliances. A living room with a massive sectional couch with one of those chaise loungers at the end. A love sofa. Two rocker recliners. A 65-inch screen television mounted to the wall.”

  I giggled. “That part shouldn't shock me.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t use it to watch sports. Never been a sports man myself,” he said.

  “What? With your stature? Oh, I bet you broke the hearts of so many football coaches.

  Rocco chuckled. “You have no idea.”

  He led me through the house, describing it to me. It sounded like a dream. Like a paradise locked away in the middle of a bustling city. I couldn't wrap my mind around it, all of the things he was describing. The stone walk-in showers and the deep, hand-carved jetted bathtubs. The hot tub he had on his back porch that overlooked the ocean. The walkway he had straight out into the sand. Listening to him describe it allowed me to be privy to the love in his voice. He truly had pride for his home. It made me sad I couldn’t experience it with my own eyes.

  Hell, I might not get to experience anything with my own eyes again. Including him.

  “And this is the bedroom you’ll be staying in. You’ve got your own private balcony that looks over the ocean. My room is right beside yours, in case you need anything. I liked the fact that the three bedrooms upstairs are all situated on the back wall of the house, so each of them can have an ocean view,” Rocco said.

  I sniffled, and I heard something thump against the floor.

  “Charity, are you okay?” he asked.

  “It’s just… your house sounds--.”

  “Come here. Come here. Let’s sit down.”

  My jaw quivered as he led me across the room. The carpet cushioned my footfalls as he settled me onto the edge of the bed. I sank into it. The memory foam cradled my body as my chest jumped with my sobs. I couldn't hold them back anymore. I couldn't stomach my emotions any longer. The anger. The pain. The exhaustion. The unfairness of it all.

  I felt selfish for being upset because I was still alive. But the idea of never seeing Rocco again--of never being able to practice medicine again--was too much for me.

  “What if I never see anything again?” I asked breathlessly.

  I felt my tears leaking from beyond my bandages. They soared down my cheeks in droves. Large drops of salted water that weren’t nearly as beautiful as the ocean. I felt Rocco’s thumbs smoothing them away, and his touch only made me more disheartened. My chest jumped as he pulled me into his lap. I straddled him, falling into him as my heart slammed against my chest.

  “What if I never see you again?” I whispered.

  I felt him grip my chin and tilt my gaze to his. Straddled in his lap, and he was still so big that I had to look up at him. I felt his thumb swipe at my tears. I felt him ridding my cheeks of their wetness as the intensity of his gaze pierced me.

  I couldn’t see it, but I felt it.

  “You don’t have to have your eyes in order to see me, Charity.”

  My chest jumped with uncontrolled heaves as his lips fell to my cheek.

  “You don’t need your eyes to see the world around you,” he whispered.

  He kissed my other cheek, brushing the tear trails away with his lips.

  “Your eyes are a crutch for experiencing the world around you. Out of all your senses, your sight is the weakest,” Rocco said.

  “What?” I asked.

  His forehead fell against mine as his hand migrated to cup the back of my neck.

  “Tell me what you feel,” he said.

  He picked my hands up and placed them against his cheeks. His hands fell to my hips, gripping them as I scooted forward into his lap. I rubbed my hands against his skin, feeling a scruff that had turned into a full-blown beard.

  “Have you not shaved lately?” I asked.

  “Keep exploring, Charity. See me with what really matters,” Rocco said.

  My hands explored. I traced the outline of his face. Ran my fingertips down his hooded brow. I felt the ridge of it give way to his nose. A sprawling nose that twitched at my touch. My thumbs ran along his lips. I felt him pucker them, kissing my skin. Fire wrapped around my heart as my hands traveled down. I slid my fingertips along his neck, feeling his carotid artery. It pulsed rapidly. Wildly. Almost uncontrollably.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Keep going,” Rocco murmured.

  I slipped my hands over his shoulders. His thick shoulders, etched with muscles pulled over his bones. My hands slid down his arms, and I felt his hands grip my hips tighter. I felt every ripple of his chiseled strength and every vein that bulged from his arms. It painted a vivid picture of him in my mind. One I would have never conjured on my memories of him.

  “Keep going,” he encouraged.

  I slipped my hands up his torso and felt the rungs of his abs call to me. In a rush, I shoved my hands underneath his shirt, feeling him inch it above his head. He revealed himself to me as he tossed his shirt to the ground. I heard it pile on the floor behind me as our foreheads fell together. I felt the warmth of his skin. I felt his heart rate pulsing against every inch of skin my fingers encountered. The swell of his chest took my breath away and I settled my hands over his heart. Over his rapidly-beating heart that poked a hole in his calm demeanor.

  “What do you see, Charity?” Rocco asked.

  I panted for the air he pushed from between his lips as his hands slid up my hips and settled into the dip of my waist.

  “You took care of me that entire first week, didn't you?” I asked.

  I felt Rocco’s lips hover over mine as goosebumps prickled my arms.

  “I worked from that dark corner in your room and made sure to move your joints twice a day. Every joint, from your toes to the socket of her head,” he said.

  “You what?” I whispered.

  “I massaged your muscles. Kept them moving. Kept them warm so you won’t be in such discomfort when you woke up. I know what that feels like, Charity. To wake up after lying in a hospital bed for so long. The pain is unbearable, and it burned me to think you’d experience that.”

  I felt the slightest tremble in his ha
nd as my arms snaked around his neck.

  “You know what I see?” I asked.

  I felt his eyes lock with mine, even though I couldn't visibly take them in.

  “What?” Rocco asked.

  I moved my lips closer to his, feeling the heat between us growing.

  “I see all of you,” I whispered.

  And then, I pressed my lips softly against his.

  Rocco

  Her kiss ignited within me a desire I could no longer sedate. As my back migrated to the bed, I slowly slipped her clothes off. Her shirt came above her head. Her bra yielded to my fingertips. I rolled her over slowly, kissing her neck as I slipped her yoga pants off her body. I felt her kick her shoes off, desperate to rid herself of our layers. I nibbled against the skin of her neck, feeling her hands twisting into my hair. Her nails slid down my back slowly. Deftly. Carefully, like she was still studying me. I felt her fingertips tracing the outlines of the pebbled muscles on my back as my swollen cock pressed against the clothed warmth of her pussy.

  “Let me see more of you, Rocco.”

  The desperate whimper fell from her lips, stoking the ember-glowing fire within my gut. I kissed down her chest, finally getting a glimpse at just how beautiful she was beneath those clothes. Beneath that pathetic towel of hers I had encountered her wrapped up in on one of my first days with her. Her breasts were perfect handfuls. They filled my palms and poured through the slats of my fingers. Her creamy skin was unmarred by scars. Freckled with darkened imperfection she had no doubt gotten from her time in the sun at the very beach we were now at. I wrapped my lips around her puckered peak. I lapped my tongue over it, feeling her hips arch into me.

  “Yes, Rocco,” Charity whispered.

  And that lust-filled whisper sent my cock leaking for her.

  My hands traced down the sleek slope of her waist. I kissed down her stomach, feeling her muscles jumping for me. I salivated at the thought of her taste on my tongue. I nibbled on her hip bones, feeling her jerk and giggle below me. I pressed my hand into her stomach, holding her there as she wrapped her legs around me. As she tried to get away from the assault my tongue dealt her.

  “Rocco. That tickles. Rocco. Rocco! Oh, fuck. Rocco.”