Captive: A Bodyguard Romance (Hollywood Guardians Book 1)

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Captive: A Bodyguard Romance (Hollywood Guardians Book 1) Page 20

by Heather Ashley


  He leans forward and rests his forehead against mine, running his fingers up to grip the side of my neck. "Don't try to deny it, little demon. I see you like no one else ever has. You can't hide from me."

  With that truth still on his lips, he closes the distance between us. The kiss he gives me is nearly feral, and I want to sink to my knees in relief, but he's there to hold me up. I'm not going to be able to deny how Connor makes me feel anymore, and honestly, I don't want to.

  When he pulls back, I haven't had even close to enough of him to soothe all the hurt over the past couple of days, and I chase his lips with mine. He chuckles and runs his fingers up into my hair, tugging my head back until I'm forced to look him straight in the eye.

  "Make no mistake about it—you are mine. Just like I'm yours." He brings up the hand he's still holding and presses it over his heart. His words send a scatter of butterflies through my stomach and my heart—which, only a few minutes ago felt like it was being shredded apart—suddenly feels as if it doesn't fit in my chest.

  "So, just to be clear, since you haven't actually said the words, you didn't screw anyone in the Cunt Club?" I look up at him without blinking, wanting to see every bit of his reaction, but his jaw tightens, and his eyes harden, swirling again with that dark violence that something inside me finds so hot I can hardly stand it.

  "I've never fucked any of those bitches, and I sure as hell never will." He growls the words, sounding pissed off that I even need to ask, and his voice vibrates right down to my core, making my body heat up with desire. I'm already more attracted to Connor than I've ever been to anyone else, and him not only going all possessive alpha male on me but also letting his violent intentions toward the Cunt Club leak out a bit have my panties absolutely drenched like never before.

  I clench my thighs together, and he notices, his lips tilting up into a cocky smirk that I'd want to smack off anyone else's face, but somehow it only makes him hotter. His hold on my hair loosens, and his fingers trail down the back of my neck, making me shiver.

  That grin on his face only gets wider as he looks down at my nipples practically poking through my shirt. His fingers continue their descent down my back until he slides the tips into the waistband of my shorts and teases the skin right at the top of my ass.

  The front of his body is pressed against mine, and I can feel how hard he is when he pushes his pelvis into me. His pupils have dilated, and there's almost nothing but black in his eyes now as he looks down at me. "I think it's time you admit you're mine so I can take my girlfriend back to her room and fuck her until we both pass out. It's been too fucking long, Gigi. Don't make me beg."

  A thrill runs through me at the way he calls me his girlfriend that I like way too much. I still can't believe he wants me, the girl who's never been anywhere or done anything. Who doesn't know much about the outside world because I've been locked up here most of my life with spotty internet access and surrounded by heathens.

  The way he's looking at me, though… It doesn't leave any doubt about how he feels.

  "I'm yours," I murmur, raising up on my toes so my lips touch his as I say the words I've been running from since he walked into my life. I'm done ignoring how I feel and hoping I don't get hurt. While I want to take the brass knuckles I've started carrying at all times in my pocket and smash them into Crystal's overly made-up face for what she did this morning, there's a small part of me that's happy it worked out the way it did.

  At least it forced Connor and me to have the talk I wanted to the other night before I was ambushed by the four harpy bitches. I really need to talk to my brother about upping the standards for the sweet butts he lets into his club because those women are nothing but toxic users who make the whole environment poisonous with the venom they spew everywhere.

  You can't tell me that any of them are a good lay either. No way. I bet they're the kind of women who think since they have a vagina, all they have to do is lay there, and the guy should just appreciate that they gave it up at all.

  I look up at Connor, and a slow smile stretches across my face when I think about showing him with my body how much I want him and exactly how he makes me feel.

  At my admission, he scoops me up into his arms, molding our bodies together, and kisses me like he wishes my clothes would disappear because he can't wait another second to be inside me. It's a heady feeling knowing how much I affect him and feeling the evidence of it between my legs when I wrap myself around his waist.

  He grinds into me as we devour each other. I'm tasting him and breathing him in, feeling settled in a way I haven't in as long as I can remember. Connor feels right. There's something about him that calls to the darkness in me, but another whole side of him that pulls me toward the light and refuses to let go no matter how hard I fight.

  But now I'm tired of fighting. I want to succumb, to let him take over and lead me out of my personal hell and into what I hope will be a future with him that stretches out before me. Now isn't the time to talk about any of that, though. I'm craving him, and my whole body hums in anticipation of what's to come.

  "Fuck, why did you run so far?" Connor pulls back from our kiss long enough to complain, and I roll my eyes.

  "It's not that far," I say as I slide down his body. He groans at the movement and stares at me before looking down at the very obvious bulge in his jeans. The man is thick in the best way, and I'm practically transfixed while I watch him adjust himself.

  His eyes are locked on me, and his jaw is tense as he grabs my hand and yanks me forward so fast I stumble. I'm not short, but his long legs eat up the ground faster than mine, and I have to jog to keep up with the pace he sets back to the clubhouse. I let out a breathless giggle as the effort of moving so fast in the brutal heat of the desert sun catches up to me, and he glances back over his shoulder with an expression so animalistic I wish he'd stop and climb on top of me right here.

  My baser instincts are definitely coming out to play, and he must sense it because he curses and picks up the pace. It's about midday, and I can only hope no one gets in our way when we get back to the clubhouse because the way Connor's acting right now, I wouldn't be surprised if he takes the knife out of his pocket and gets stabby with anyone who tries.

  By the time we get back to the clubhouse, we're both breathing hard. Sweat's running down my back, and my hair is sticking to my forehead and my neck. Between the tears running down my face earlier, the dust from the desert, and sweating my ass off on the run out into the nothingness and back, I'm an absolute disaster in desperate need of a shower.

  When we step into the air-conditioned building, I breathe a sigh of relief as the cool air brushes across my overheated skin. Connor's grip on my hand is almost painful as he tugs me toward the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

  My brother steps into the hall and sweeps his gaze over the two of us, zeroing in on where we're holding hands and back up to Connor. "Got a minute?"

  He stiffens, and I can tell he wants to say no, but it could be important, so he reluctantly lets me go, pulling me into his side and lowering my lips so they brush the shell of my ear. "Go start the shower, and I'll be up in a second," he growls in my ear so low only I can hear it. At his words, a jolt of energy shoots straight between my thighs, and I step out of his hold to start up the stairs. My nipples ache, and my panties are wrecked, and if I don't get some relief in the next three minutes, I might actually go insane.

  As if he can read my thoughts—or maybe he's good at reading my body—he calls out, "Don't even think about touching until I get there."

  "That's my fucking sister, man. Keep that shit to yourself," I hear Savage snap, and I can't help but laugh as I jog up the stairs, suddenly not so tired from everything that went down today.

  When I get upstairs, I skip over Connor's room and head straight for mine. No way am I spending time in his bed knowing Crystal rubbed her skankiness all over the sheets. If he wants me in there, he's going to have to get new sheets and burn the old on
es.

  I start stripping off my sweaty clothes and leave them in a heap on the floor. I'm overheated and so turned on I don't really care about anything else right now except relief. I grab a bottle of water I stashed on the nightstand last night and unscrew the top, chugging it down so fast I almost choke. When I finish, I get rid of the bottle and walk across the room naked, enjoying the feel of the air on my skin.

  The shower water is cool but not cold when I step in and let it run over my head, washing everything down the drain. All the doubt, denial, mistrust, heartache, betrayal, hurt… So much negativity running down my body and swirling down the drain.

  By the time Connor steps behind me into the shower and wraps his arms around my waist, I've already washed my hair and scrubbed my skin. I spin in his arms and look up at him as water splashes across his skin. "Everything okay?" It took him a lot longer to get upstairs than I thought it would've, but I actually didn't mind the extra time alone to process.

  He rolled his eyes. "Savage wanted to bust my balls about fucking his sister and then told me we have a breakfast meeting tomorrow morning, so I better get you out of my system tonight so I'm thinking with the right head. His words."

  "Breakfast meeting?"

  "Gigi," he growls. "I've got my girl naked and wet in my arms. The last thing I want to talk about is your brother or anything to do with this fucking club." As if to prove his point, he bites my lower lip before sucking it into his mouth. While he's doing that, his hand is wandering down to cup my left breast before he lightly pinches my nipple.

  A moan slips past my lips as his hands wander, and his touch spreads across my skin like wildfire. I'm helpless to deny what's happening between us, swept up in our chemistry and the allure of his body and what I know he can do with it.

  His hands skate down my body, caressing my curves until he slips one between my thighs and slides a thick finger inside me. I groan at the sudden feeling of fullness, even if it's not enough. I want more; I want all of him. I don't need foreplay, I just want him inside me, but when I grind my hips against his hand and arch my back to hurry him along, he growls at me and slows down his movements.

  When he adds another finger, my head falls back, and I'm lost to the sensation. A wave of euphoria unlike anything I've ever felt crashes through me. When the palm of his hand finds my clit and rubs, I detonate in an orgasm so powerful, my knees buckle, and he has to catch me. All the pent-up tension and emotion I was holding onto rolls off of me with my release, and based on the self-satisfied smirk on Connor's face, I bet I'm wearing a dopey smile, but I'm too relaxed to care.

  I lean against the wall and enjoy the show as he hurries to wash so we can continue our fun in my bed. His dick is hard and thick, and it bobs with every beat of his heart in a steady rhythm that's hypnotic. His piercing taunts me, and I want to drop to my knees and lick it, but then he shuts off the water before I can, and he's wrapping me up in a towel and dragging me to my bed.

  I'm realizing Connor's a bit of a caveman with all the dragging me places. As much as I'm all for equality and girl power, I find myself liking this side of him more than I thought I would. When he rips off my towel and tosses me on the bed, I bounce once before he can climb on top of me.

  Connor's hips settle between mine, and I can feel his hard length against my inner thigh. I wiggle to try and get him to slide inside me, but he presses his hips down further to get me to stop. He's holding himself up on his forearms, hovering over me and staring down into my eyes. I feel like I should say something, like this moment between us is more than just a physical joining of our bodies, but no words form on my tongue.

  I'm looking straight into his soul through his eyes, and he's holding nothing back. It's all there—all the darkness, the hurt… the love. That last one makes me blink a few times because while I might be ready to dive headfirst into this thing with him, the L-word scares the shit out of me. It's always been associated with pain, and I don't want to think about that right now.

  With Connor, it's different, and every day he's showing me that my past isn't the same as my future. That I can expect different outcomes if I take chances, and I'm trying so goddamn hard to believe what he's trying to make me see.

  As I'm watching him, he's seeing me, too, and I don't have even a remote chance of hiding any of what's running through my head from him, but the truth is I don't want to. I like that he sees me. I want him to see me, even the worst parts of me, because if there's a chance we can make this work between us, I refuse to shy away from who I really am or give up any parts of myself in order to be with him.

  This moment is intense, and all I can hear is my own heart beating and our breaths mixing together between us. Our faces are close together but not close enough to touch without leaning up. His body is still pinning mine down, and when he shifts, his cock rubs along the skin of my thigh, and my core clenches in response.

  I'm on the verge of begging, of offering anything he might want if he would just slide his dick inside me and fuck me like I've missed the last few days, but he looks as close to snapping as I am and finally breaks eye contact to position himself at my entrance.

  He covers my body with his as he lowers himself down, joining us as close as he can while he thrusts inside me. His weight on top of mine is so good it makes my toes curl as we sink into the mattress, taking a second to enjoy the sensation of being wrapped around each other.

  When I don't think I can take it anymore, I gyrate my hips, and he groans. Connor grinds his hips against mine in response or retaliation for forcing his hand—I'm not really sure which—but he's rubbing against my clit with every roll of his hips. I'm skyrocketing toward my second orgasm of the afternoon and so fucking happy to be where I am right now.

  His face is buried in my neck, and we're chest to chest, my legs wrapped around his hips, and his stubble scratches at my sensitive skin in the most delicious way. It's like he can't get close enough and wants to crawl inside my body, and right now, I wish he would.

  My body contracts and I grip his cock tightly inside while he picks up the pace of his thrusts. He's driving into me again and again in a wild rhythm that's becoming erratic. He's close to coming, and so am I. "Come with me," he demands in a low, husky voice that reverberates straight to my clit.

  He rocks his pelvis against me, and I cry out his name as a powerful orgasm sweeps through me, and my entire body is consumed with pleasure. My inner walls tighten around him, and he follows me over the edge, jerking and letting out a pleasure-filled groan as he spills himself inside of me.

  Connor and I are still linked together when he lifts back up on his forearms and stares down at me, holding himself with one arm so he can sweep my hair out of my face. "How could you ever think I'd want anyone else when I have you?" he asks so quietly it's almost a whisper, and the emotions of the day catches up to me. The sincerity in his voice, the way he's looking at me right now—they have tears stinging my eyes that I refuse to let fall.

  I've cried enough today, and I'm done with that. From this moment on, I'm going to shut down my insecurities and try to be the kind of woman Connor deserves by his side. No more tears, no more feeling sorry for myself. It's time I own my feelings and grow up.

  It's time I become the woman I was always meant to be, and I can finally admit I want to do it with Connor by my side.

  Have you ever felt like you slept an entire night but wake up dragging ass because emotionally, you're completely fucked? That's me this morning as I haul myself out of bed where I'm leaving a sleeping Gigi to go deal with her brother, who I sort of like and sort of still think is an asshole.

  Jury's still out on that one.

  Yesterday was both incredible and fucked up in so many ways. While I'm relieved Gigi came around and is back in my bed where she belongs, I feel like I have a hangover from everything that went down. I'm sure as fuck not happy to be dealing with club bullshit this early in the morning, but like every other thing I've had to do since I got here, I suck it up and ju
mp on my bike.

  At least I'll get breakfast out of the deal.

  Before I ride off away from the sunrise and into Vegas, I check my phone to see where Savage and his boys want to meet up. After everything that's happened over the last week in this hellhole, I'm pissed off that Savage thinks it's okay to pull me out of here while he and his guys are off-site, too. It's leaving Gigi vulnerable and unprotected, and I don't like it.

  I tell him as much when I send him a text, and he messages back that Ruin stayed behind on Gigi watch, so that makes me feel marginally better about leaving. Still, I'm not going to stay gone long because the only person I really trust to make sure she's safe is me.

  Even I've let her down, but today's a new day, and I'm not dwelling on the bullshit of the past. My heart is light, and things are settled between Gigi and me for the moment. My focus is where it needs to be—on figuring out what the fuck the older members of this club are up to because I have a feeling I've barely scratched the surface. Shit's going to hit the fan soon.

  Those guys—Brutal, Bomber, Vandal, and Poison—have some serious balls to try and fuck over Savage and his crew. I've seen Savage in action, and what he did to Poison down in that basement after the dude threw his sister in a cage?

  Nothing phases me, but that did. I'd never seen a guy literally rip another guy's balls off with his bare hands before, but I can't say that anymore. I have no doubt Savage earned every bit of his club name, and the calm exterior is just a front for the monster that lies underneath.

  Like recognizes like and all that bullshit.

  I still don't fully understand how Poison survived the blood loss, but at least now I have one less person to worry about. If he's even conscious, I doubt he has the ability to walk again yet.

  My attention should be on happier things instead of replaying the dark and violent thoughts that are always at the back of my mind, but I can't help it. Being in this place feeds into the pieces of me I work to keep at bay. The bloodlust that simmers right beneath the surface at all times wants to come out to play, and being here, with the Reign of Chaos, is only encouraging me more and more every day to let it out.

 

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