The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones

by Susan Mallery

  “You’re killing me,” he murmured.

  “What a way to go.”

  His smile was slightly pained.

  He sat up and kissed her. While his mouth kept hers busy, he drew off his shorts and briefs. He reached for her hand and brought it back to him. This time, instead of strained fabric, she touched bare skin. Her fingers closed around him. He drew her tongue into his mouth and sucked, matching the speed of her strokes between his thighs.

  Soft skin encased the hard ridge of his desire. She explored his impressive length, then moved lower. He spread his legs, allowing her to touch him there. Flesh yielded. She cupped him gently, rubbing her fingers until he writhed against her caress and hoarsely called her name.

  She lowered her mouth to his shoulder, nibbling his hot skin. He tasted salty.

  “Where are they?” he asked, his breath ticking her ear.

  “What?”

  “The condoms.”

  “Oh.” She raised her head and glanced at him, suddenly embarrassed. “Under the pillow.”

  He slid his right hand along the sheet, searched for a moment, then pulled out the small, square box.

  “Did I get the right kind?” she asked, suddenly anxious. “There were so many and I didn’t really know what you would want and—”

  He touched his finger to her mouth. “You did great. They’re fine.”

  She gave him one final, parting stroke, then sat back and watched him draw on the protection. She’d been afraid that moment might be awkward, but it was a caring gesture. He didn’t try to persuade her otherwise, or make her feel foolish. He simply did what he had to in order to take care of her.

  When he was done, she lay down next to him. He moved over her, settling between her legs. At the first touch of him against her sensitive center, her body began to clench in anticipation. She hadn’t thought to experience release again, but suddenly she wanted to. Desperately.

  She drew back her knees and arched her hips toward him. He pressed against her. She was so damp, he slid in easily, parting her tight flesh, sending shivers of pleasure radiating outward, like a pebble dropped in a pond. She wiggled closer. Her breasts bounced with the motion and his breath caught. She smiled slowly. She liked knowing he found her exciting.

  She moved her hand and touched the trimmed stem of the rose. A few of the petals had fallen off, but most of the flower was still whole. His dark eyes met hers. She saw the need raging there, matched only by the throbbing between her legs.

  She brought the flower up to his chest and stroked his skin. His muscles tensed. She did it again, this time searching out his flat nipples.

  “Cindy, don’t,” he said tightly.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I won’t be able to hold back.”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to.”

  She brought the rose lower, dipping it into his dark curls, stroking it against the base of his organ as he withdrew, only to plunge in again.

  “Two can play at this,” he said, then grabbed the rose from her. He touched the head of the flower to her breasts, teasing her with a quick back and forth motion.

  Now it was her turn to moan. She couldn’t focus on anything but what he was doing on her chest and between her legs. Her vision blurred. She felt his muscles tense for one final assault. He groaned his denial.

  “Yes,” she said loudly, drawing her knees all the way to her chest and thrusting her hips toward him.

  He drove deeply into her, triggering massive contractions of ecstasy. His body shook as he, too, fell into the bliss. They clung to each other until the shaking stopped and their breathing returned to normal.

  * * *

  Cindy lay curled next to Mike. She couldn’t see the clock, but she guessed it was around ten Sunday morning. On the floor was the wooden tray she’d used to feed him while he was sick. Instead of the remains of weak soup and toast, there was an empty bottle of wine, bowls used for the beef Burgundy, and an empty pint of gourmet strawberry ice cream. She smiled when she remembered what Mike had done with that. It had been very sticky and they’d both needed a shower afterward.

  He’d been right about the condoms. They used the last one just a couple of hours before. Which meant, as much as she wanted to, she really shouldn’t wake him up. Although there were other ways of bringing pleasure. He had certainly proved that to her.

  She turned her head so she could study his profile. His nose was straight, his mouth well formed. There was a tiny scar by his left eyebrow, probably from a childhood accident. She’d never noticed before. Probably because she’d never been this close to him before.

  A lock of hair fell onto his forehead. She wanted to brush it away, but she didn’t want to wake him. Instead, she scooted closer, tangling her bare legs with his.

  He breathed rhythmically, sleeping without dreaming. She was too aware of herself to sleep. She could hear her heart beating, feel her skin, the tingling between her legs.

  She’d expected to enjoy making love with Mike. They liked each other, they had fun together, they shared a mutual attraction. Why wouldn’t it have been wonderful? So the fact that he left her breathless and trembling wasn’t a surprise.

  She hadn’t expected to fall in love.

  Cindy closed her eyes for a moment. The rush of emotions had caught her off guard. She tried to tell herself it was just a chemical reaction to the moment. Once the glow wore off, so would her feelings. But she knew the truth. Somehow in the tangle of sheets and bodies, she’d exposed her heart. She suspected she’d fallen in love with him a long time ago. Their intimacy had only forced her to acknowledge it.

  She’d thought she might want to rage against the truth. But she felt calm. Knowing what she knew now, even knowing Mike was leaving, she wouldn’t change anything. With him, she was alive. He reminded her she was a woman, he’d shown her she could love again. If the price of that was a broken heart, she would pay it and survive. For in time her heart would heal. The crack would always be visible, and she would never love anyone exactly as she loved Mike, but it was far better to feel the pain of loss and be among the living, than exist the way she had for the last couple of years—protecting herself from the world, merely surviving in a cocoon of fear.

  Some risks were worth taking. She wouldn’t try to change him. She knew the lesson well. Men leave; men like him, especially. She couldn’t trap him, nor did she want to. He couldn’t separate what he was from what he did and she didn’t have the right to ask him to. So she would love him, and when his time was up, she would let him go.

  Mike stirred against her. “Why aren’t you asleep?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

  “I was just thinking.”

  “’Bout what?” He pulled her closer until her head rested on his shoulder. His arm encircled her waist as her bare breasts nestled against his side.

  “I was wondering if you would stay here with me until it’s time for you to go back to L.A.”

  He opened his eyes and stared at her. His smile was slow and sexy. She felt it all the way to her toes.

  “I was hoping you’d ask me. There’s nothing I’d like more.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You can stay just one more day,” Allison said as she stared at him.

  Mike dropped the T-shirt he’d been folding and gathered her close. The little girl snuggled against him. The feel of her, her scent, the trusting way she expected him to keep her safe, were all familiar to him. Too familiar. He wasn’t going to be able to forget her, or any of them.

  “My plane is leaving in a couple of hours.”

  “You can change your flight,” Jonathan said.

  The boy stood at the end of the bed, clutching the bedpost. He kept looking away and brushing his hand across his face.

  “I’ve got a job to get to,” Mike reminded them, releasing Allison and wondering why his chest felt so tight. “I’ve already delayed twice. As it is, I’m going to have to fly to Los Angeles, take care of business, then fly directly to
Washington.”

  Cindy came into the room. She shook her head. “I told you two not to bother Mike this morning. He’s on a schedule. He’s already stayed as long as he can. Come on. Say goodbye, then go outside and play. All your friends are there.”

  Allison ran from the room. Mike stared after her for a moment. He never thought he would come to care about children, but these two had really found their way inside. School was going to be starting soon. When he was gone, he would wonder if they liked their teachers and how their classes were going. He would think about Jonathan at football games and hope Allison hadn’t brought Shelby back to life.

  Jonathan cleared his throat several times, then gave in to the tears. They flowed down his cheeks. Mike knelt and held out his arms. The boy flung himself into his embrace.

  “I’ll miss you,” Mike said, his voice strangely hoarse.

  “Yeah, me, too. We’re still going camping, right?”

  “I’ll be back. I don’t know when yet, but I’ll call. No matter what, we’re going camping.”

  Jonathan pushed away, then ran from the room. Before Mike could rise to his feet, Allison returned. She was carrying several large sheets of paper, the thick kind kids use for crafts. Holes had been punched along one side and yarn woven through, holding the sheets together. A strand of blond hair drifted across her cheek and she brushed it away impatiently.

  “I made this,” she said importantly, handing him the bundle. “It’s a story about you.”

  She smiled and her dimples about did him in. He took the papers. On the cover, printed in fairly uneven script were the words My Summer With Mike. There was a drawing, done in crayon, of a man, a woman and two children. He noticed the man and the little girl were holding hands. As he turned the pages, Allison pointed out the various events to him. His arrival—she’d drawn little hearts on the bandage around his stick-figure leg—playing in the greenbelt, their trip to the mall. Other times he’d nearly forgotten about. There were two pages devoted to the campout.

  On the last page, the little girl stood alone. There were x’s and o’s underneath her figure. “Those are hugs and kisses,” she said, pointing.

  Cindy stepped forward. “She made it herself. Allison even thought up the idea. She’s been working on it since we found out you were leaving.”

  “It’s beautiful,” he said, touching the handmade book. “The most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me.”

  Allison beamed with pleasure. “Now you won’t forget me.”

  “I could never forget you.” He touched her hair, then her cheek. “I’ll remember you always. I promise.”

  “Bye, Mike.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, then ran from the room. A few seconds later, the back door opened and slammed shut.

  He stared at the book. “I wasn’t expecting anything like this. It must have taken hours.”

  “She really cares about you.” Cindy moved close and pointed to the cover. “The best part is, she didn’t put Shelby anywhere in the story. I hope that means her imaginary friend is gone for good.”

  He rose to his feet and laid Allison’s gift on the bed. “I don’t want to be responsible for her return. That concerns me.”

  “We’ll be okay. We survived before you, we’ll survive after you’re gone.” Her gentle smile took the sting out of her words. “Trust me, Mike. Just worry about yourself and your next job. We don’t want you shot up again. You want some coffee?”

  “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

  She left the bedroom. He finished packing. Everything he’d brought with him, practically everything he owned could fit into two bags. There was a time he’d been proud of that. Now he wasn’t so sure. He would have to carry Allison’s book in his hand. He couldn’t fit it into his bags without folding it and he didn’t want to damage the pages. He would have to get a larger suitcase. Or leave the gift somewhere safe.

  He could smell the scent of coffee, but instead of walking to the kitchen, he moved to the bedroom window. He’d spent the last week and a half with Cindy. The children had acknowledged his presence with the casual acceptance of the young. Several mornings, they’d come in early and thrown themselves on the bed. Once the children returned from their father’s, he and Cindy had been careful about dressing after making love, so when Jonathan and Allison had joined them, it had been a free-for-all of tickling, jokes and laughter. He’d been part of a family.

  He stared out the window at the grassy lawn beyond. The crepe myrtle was in full bloom. Come winter it would stand bare. Cindy would cut it back and then it would grow and bloom again. He would miss the blossoms. He would miss the play on the greenbelt and the awful TV cartoons. He would miss the games, the fights, the laughter and even the tears. He would miss holding Cindy and loving her. He would miss watching her shower, then making love with her quickly in the large walk-in closet, her hair still dripping down her back as she buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her moans of pleasure.

  He would miss this house, and the city itself. He’d come to enjoy Sugar Land and all the suburbs had to offer. He would even miss Beth.

  There was a time when the thought of his new job would have consumed him, but not today. All he could do was wish he wasn’t leaving. The thought of pitting his intellect and skills against the enemy wasn’t exciting. The thought of taking another bullet made him grimace. He didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not when he’d found what he was looking for all his life.

  If only... If only he was the right man for Cindy. If only he knew how to love and be loved. If only he had the right to stay.

  “Coffee’s ready,” Cindy called.

  Mike moved across the room. He tucked Allison’s book under his arm, then collected his luggage and set it in the foyer. He’d arranged for a service to drive him to the airport. Cindy had offered, but he didn’t think he could stand the goodbyes. He would rather remember her here, where she belonged.

  He walked into the kitchen. Cindy was sitting at the round table. He took the chair across from her and picked up the mug she’d left there.

  “When does school start?” he asked.

  “In a week and a half. I go back Monday. Lesson plans and all that.”

  She was wearing white shorts and a green T-shirt that matched her eyes. A headband held her hair off her face. He studied her features, memorizing them for the long days ahead. He wanted to believe she would mourn him, but he knew better.

  “Now that you’ve gotten your feet wet, you can start dating,” he said.

  She’d brought her cup to her lips, but she set it down untasted. “I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.”

  “You can’t let Nelson win forever.”

  “He’s not winning anymore. I don’t care about him. I haven’t been dressing up on the mornings he picks up the kids.”

  “I noticed.”

  She smiled sadly. “I gave him too much power. I see that now. I wanted my perfect dream, my sure thing, and I figured he was the way to get it. I’ve learned there are no sure things in life. We just have to take what we’re given and make the best of it. My kids are happy, I’m learning to be happy. I suppose I could date if I wanted to, but not right now.”

  She glanced down, then quickly up again. Her eyes darkened with emotion. “I love you, Mike.” She held up her hand to stop him from speaking. “Before you get all worried, I don’t expect you to say anything back to me. I’m not asking for something, I just wanted you to know. At first I wasn’t going to tell you, but then I realized I couldn’t let you go off without saying the words. I suppose they’re more for me than you. Maybe that’s not fair, I don’t know. But it’s true. I love you.” She paused. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” But he wasn’t. He was reeling inside. Cindy had done this once before. She’d managed to bring him to his knees with just a few words. She’d learned his biggest secret, that he wasn’t enough, then had blithely changed the subject.

  Now she spoke of loving him. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders
and shake her until she said the words again and again. At the same time, he wanted to demand she take them back. She couldn’t love him. No one ever loved him. He came and went from people’s lives, a brief encounter, a fond memory, but he never inspired real feelings. He couldn’t.

  She reached out her hand and squeezed his fingers. “I never thought I’d be willing to take that kind of risk again,” she said. “You showed me that some risks are worth taking. Loving you is worth all of it. You’ll be gone, and I’ll miss you, but that’s okay. We’ve had some wonderful times together. I’ll always treasure them. And that’s what loving is about, I think. Finding the magic in a world gone mad.” She sighed. “I would love to come with you, but I can’t. My life is here, with my children. Yours is somewhere else. But for this summer, we had something wonderful.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. She blinked them away. “Damn. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”

  “You almost never swear.”

  “I know. I guess I’m more upset than I thought. But I’ll be fine. I promise.”

  He didn’t want her to be fine. He wanted her to scream at him, demand that he stay. Instead, she smiled bravely.

  The pain in his chest deepened. She would remain here in her world, a world full of light and love. He would return to the shadows, to his temporary jobs and a life that fit in two duffel bags.

  “Cindy, I—”

  Outside, a car honked.

  She rose to her feet. “Your car is here. It’s time to leave.”

  The next few minutes were a blur of hugs and goodbyes. The children ran to be with him one last time. Cindy clung to him, and kissed him feverishly. He wanted to tell her he’d changed his mind, but she was so determined to go on without him. She’d made all her plans, accepted the consequences of it all. She would be fine without him.

  As the car drove away, he looked back one last time. Cindy stood with her children on either side of her. They waved. He could tell they were crying.