by Diana Gardin
“That happen often?” He strokes my hair.
Shaking my head, I just focus on the scent of him. Leather, ocean, and musk. It comforts me in a way nothing ever has.
“No…it’s just been a very unsettling day, Bennett.”
One side of his mouth lifts in a humorless smile. “Yeah. I’d have to agree with you there. You scared?”
My answer is just a whisper. But it’s the truth. “Yes.”
“I’m not gonna lie to you, beautiful. You should be. This is the cartel we’re talking about, and they tried to kill you today.” His voice wavers the tiniest bit on those words. “You should be wary. But you should also know that I’ll die before I let anything happen to you. You get that?”
Shock rolls through my belly, freeing a horde of butterflies and making me swallow against the lump rising to my throat. “Why? Why would you do that for me?”
I’m nobody. That’s how I’ve always liked it.
Bennett doesn’t even hesitate. “It’s my job. But even if it wasn’t…you’re worth it.”
We stay like that, our skin touching, his arms wrapped around me, my hands pressed against his chest. I don’t doubt him. But it doesn’t stop me from wondering how this happened. How does a man who looks like Bennett end up here with a woman like me?
Slowly, turning my head slightly, I press my lips to the hot skin of his neck. I kiss him softly before shifting to another spot and dropping another kiss. Inhaling, I slide my mouth up to his ear and pull the lobe into my mouth, sucking softly. He tastes so good, like everything I’ve ever wanted but have never been brave enough to take.
Bennett goes still under me, his voice a rough scrape of words as he speaks. “Sayward.”
It’s a warning, a caution to go slow, to stop even, but I ignore it completely. I run my tongue along the shell of his ear, feeling the evidence of his arousal rising under my hip, pressing against my flesh, as his fingers dig into me. My hands find their way under his shirt, pressing against rock-hard muscle that jerks beneath my touch.
“Fucking hell, baby. What are you doing to me?”
Bennett’s growl is cut off abruptly as he grips the back of my neck and captures my mouth in his. His lips form to mine, his tongue licking at the seam of my mouth. I open eagerly for him, moaning at the feel of his tongue stroking against mine. He explores my mouth with a purpose I’ve never experienced.
He tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss, and I shift so that I’m straddling his lap and pressing my chest flush against his. I can’t get close enough. It’s like now that I’ve let him in, let him peek past my walls, all I can do is hold on and pray I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life. All of my old aversions are there, my fear is real, but with Bennett I’m able to fight past all of it. I want to cling to that safety line he’s thrown, reel myself in until I’m home for good.
All my life I’ve had trouble understanding other people. I’m fluent in two languages, but I’ve always felt like a foreigner. I don’t comprehend the subtle nuances that come with social and cultural interactions, and it’s hindered me in one way or another for as long as I can remember. But being with Bennett is like transcending all the languages. All the barriers are down, and it’s like breathing for the very first time.
I don’t want it to end.
My fingers play in the soft hair at the back of his neck, while his hands run up my back, taking my shirt with them. He tosses it away, making quick work of my bra until both of his hands are cupping my breasts. I drop my head back and let out a strangled cry.
“Your body…fuck, Sayward. You’re amazing. Do you know how goddamn lucky I feel to be the only one who gets to see you?”
He dips his head and takes one pert nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. My hips grind against his cock straining against his jeans and a low rumble of approval sounds in his throat.
A volcano of desire erupts inside me as my body remembers the release it experienced last night. My hips rock against his as the ache between my thighs becomes almost unbearable, and Bennett switches from one breast to the other. I’m spilling out of his hands, my curves being something I’ve never been bold enough to explore and appreciate. I’m the first girl to throw on jeans and a hoodie, because I’ve never even considered showing off the toned, shapely body I know is underneath.
But with Bennett? Every fear, every instinct I’ve ever had to hide turns into pride and a sense of profound sexiness I never even knew was possible.
With one hand, he reaches down and flicks the button on my jeans just as I grip the hem of his shirt and yank it up. He rips the garment over his head and I slide from his lap and onto my knees on the floor in front of him.
His hands stroking my bare shoulders, he watches me with heavy-lidded eyes as I undo the button on his jeans and slide down his zipper.
“Are you going to stop me this time?” I’m dead serious, but he smiles as he looks down at me.
“Not on your life.”
He lifts his hips so I can help him out of his jeans and boxer-briefs, and I lose my breath at the sight of his thick erection standing at attention before me. Licking my lips, because this is something I know I can do and do well, I slide my hands up rock-hard thighs and hear his intake of breath as I take just the tip of him into my mouth.
Fisting him in both hands, I stroke upward as I lick his head, and a muttered curse rolls from his mouth as his hips lift almost in sync with my slow strokes. I find the bulging vein that runs along the side of his shaft and trace it with my tongue, loving the way his hands fist in my hair and tug.
Sucking Bennett off isn’t methodical or analytical for me. It’s not just something that has to be done. I’m getting something out of this, too; my body is practically humming with the waves of desire rolling from me. Every time Bennett groans or grunts, every time his hands tighten in my hair I’m sent into another tailspin of rocketing need and want.
I glance up into his eyes, my mouth full of him, and the expression there sends my heart into a frenzy inside my chest. He’s darkness and light in one, and I’m helplessly, hopelessly drawn to him, a doomed moth to the flickering flame.
“Come here,” he grinds out, his eyes flashing with lust and something else entirely. “I need to be inside you when I come.”
He pulls me onto the couch and is across the room grabbing his wallet off the counter before I can take a breath.
When he’s back, a condom covering him, his eyes meet mine and his tone gentles. “I want to take you from the back, Sayward. I want to see that perfect ass in the air while I drive into you. That okay?”
There’s a rough edge to his question, but I know it’s from desire, not from violence. The words send a dark shiver running through me, and I catch a breath. “Yes.”
He bends, kissing me deep while his hands rove over the ass he seems to like so much, before he pulls back and turns me to face the end of the couch. He presses down on my back, urging me to bend over. I do, my forearms sinking into the soft blue cushion. Then I feel him bending over me, his entire torso warming the skin of my back and the darkest corners of my heart. He’s so much bigger than me, his body swallows me whole and I should feel afraid.
But I don’t. Not anymore. Not now that I know him.
His whisper in my ear is low, rough, but the stroke of his hands on my skin is tender.
“Still can’t believe you don’t know how gorgeous you are. The sight of you like this?” The hard tip of his cock nudges my ass just before he drags it through my dripping wet folds. My moan is almost lost in the cushions as I push back eagerly against him. God, I want this. I want him.
“You’re fucking perfect.”
Then Bennett takes my hips in his firm grasp and yanks me back against him as he buries himself deep inside me.
This man is going to ruin me.
17
Bennett
She feels more than perfect. She feels like fucking heaven when I’m inside her. Like I’m sliding home.
Her long dark hair, streaked with brilliant red, is piled up on top of her head in a messy bun. But fuck that shit. Reaching up, I pull out the band and it all comes tumbling down around her shoulders. She gasps as I slide out of her and rock right back in, feeling her wet heat tighten and clench around me. My eyes almost roll back in my head.
“Damn, girl. You…Jesus Christ.” The words are nothing but nonsense, I know that, and I can’t do shit about it.
I knew Sayward was closed off when I met her. I could see it in her eyes, tell from her body language that there was something going on there no one would be able to penetrate. But when I started spending time with her…something shifted. I could see glimpses of who she was beneath the walls, and behind the screen of the autism. Her mind is brilliant, but her soul? It’s even brighter.
Maybe I’m a bastard for letting her open up to me, for forcing down those walls that she took so long to build. Especially when I know I’m not the man who deserves her. Especially when she’s grieving. I’m not the man who can give her the happily-ever-after every woman wants. I thought I had that once, and it slipped through my fingers. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get back to that place. There was a time, not long before this, that I thought it’d be impossible.
But being here with Sayward like this right now…she’s reaching someplace deep inside me I thought I had shut down years ago. My chest tightens as I continue to fuck her, my cock finding that spot deep inside her that will make her come apart in my hands.
Bending my knees with each thrust, I start a rhythm that’s going to be the fucking end of me and her. My palms find her breasts and I roll the puckered nipples between my fingers, biting down hard on my bottom lip just to keep from asking her to fucking marry me.
Because that would be ridiculous, but the thought of being allowed to sink inside her every single day for the rest of my life sounds really fucking good right now.
“Oh, God…please, Bennett.” Her words are strangled, and I bend over her to speak in her ear.
“Please…what? What do you need from me, baby?” I’m toying with her, testing her to see how she reacts. Is she gonna be able to play? Or will she revert to throwing those walls back up?
Her answer is quick and in such a matter-of-fact, Sayward Diaz kind of tone, it makes me freeze midstroke. “I want you to fuck me harder, and touch me until I come.” The only thing that lets me know she’s close to falling apart is the breathiness of her tone.
Fucking. Hell.
This woman.
Gripping her hips with one hand, sinking my fingers into her heated flesh, I snake the other around until my fingers are playing in her folds. She gasps, pushing back against me as she glances over her shoulder. Her hair is all over the place, her eyes are so fucking bright I swear there are stars swimming in them. She steals my goddamned breath, and there’s no way I’m ready for any of what this woman brings to my life.
She lifts a brow, urging me on, and I growl. Pulling out for just a second, I slam home. She cries out, her eyes squeezing shut and heavy pants of pleasure escaping her parted lips.
“Bennett!” she screams.
My thumb presses down hard on her clit, and she flies to pieces. Right here in my arms. All I can do as I watch her is think about what a lucky motherfucker I am. And then I follow her over the edge, groaning my own release into the side of her neck right before she collapses onto the couch.
I stay flattened against her for too long, probably giving her too much of my weight. But it feels so damn good being pressed up against her. Her tight body touching as much of mine as possible. Feeling the heat of her skin sinking all the way down to my soul.
Eventually, I retreat to take care of the condom in the bathroom off the living room before returning and scooping her into my arms. Settling back onto the couch with Sayward against my chest, here in my house, I can’t remember the last time shit felt so right in my life.
Maybe this is temporary, but I’m sure as hell gonna enjoy the ride while it lasts.
Neither one of us speaks. It’s like we don’t need the words to describe what just happened. I listen to her breaths and I know she can hear my heart pumping in my chest as I struggle to calm down. To get my shit together. To separate my thrashing spirit from her calm one.
She traces an absentminded circle on my chest, and I try so damn hard to hide the shiver that rockets through me at her touch. What the hell is this? What’s she doing to me?
“You hungry?” I tilt my head down so I can look her in the eye.
She meets mine with only a little hesitation, and the thought makes me happy. It wasn’t long ago that she never met my gaze.
She nods. “Yes. But I’m also worried.”
I stroke her hair. “You don’t need to be worried right now, beautiful. I got you.”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s not worry for myself. I’m worried about Marcos. Bennett, I know he would never intentionally hurt me. He was on that sidewalk today, too. What if he’s not safe?”
I swallow a sigh. She’s worried about a man I know in my gut is keeping something from her. From all of us. There’s something he’s not saying, and I’m gonna make damn sure I find out. The Colombian drug cartel hanging out in my city, shooting up these streets, targeting this woman?
It’s not okay with me.
“He is safe. Jacob sent an NES man to keep watch outside his hotel room door tonight, remember?”
Her troubled gaze searches my face before she sits up. I watch as she stands, allowing my eyes to rove the miles of bronzed skin just begging to be touched again, and try not to groan with disappointment as she puts on her clothes.
“I need to talk to him, Bennett. Tonight. We can grab dinner on the way to his hotel.”
There’s no talking her out of this. I can tell by the stubborn set of her jaw, the determined gleam in her eye. I want to give her the solace she’s looking for. If that’s going to come in the form of a conversation with her brother, I’ll take her. But there’s no way I’ll let her out of my sight. Not once.
“Yeah…okay.” I reach for my jeans and my phone. “We can go.”
But before I pull on my clothes, I remember the text I ignored earlier and read the message.
Bennett…you can’t ignore me forever. One way or another, we will talk about things. I miss you, baby.
Fucking Valarie.
Why now? Why is my ex-wife choosing this moment in my life to show her face again? We need to talk.
No, we really don’t. I said everything I needed to the night I lost my shit and landed myself in prison. When I had the divorce papers delivered to Valarie from prison, she didn’t contest it. I figured she’d moved on, and I never once wanted to look back.
So why’s she doing this now?
I know I can’t ignore her forever, but I sure as hell won’t take any time away from my job protecting Sayward and give it to Valarie. Her closure can wait until Sayward is safe.
Sayward appears in front of me, dressed and ready to leave. “Hey, you spaced out there. Something important on your phone?”
I shake my head, pulling on my jeans and shoving the phone into my pocket. “Nothing at all. Let’s go.”
When we pull up to the hotel where Marcos is staying, I order Sayward to stay in the car while I sweep the street. I expect her to argue, because arguing is something she’s really good at, but aside from her jaw going tense, she stays put. Slamming my car door shut behind me, I take a casual stance against the car and allow my gaze to swing from left to right, taking in everything around me with practiced calculation.
When I decide the street looks clear, I turn my gaze upward, looking in earnest for anything out of the ordinary in the windows and on the rooftops above us. Not only do I see nothing unusual, I don’t feel the familiar prickle of being watched.
I walk around to the passenger side of the truck and open the door for Sayward. She steps out as I reach into the backseat and grab the small backpack I keep stashed in my
car. Sayward checks out the street herself with skeptical eyes.
“We’re good, baby,” I murmur, closing the truck door behind her and pulling her into my side. “Let’s go see your brother.”
The lobby isn’t crowded, giving me the chance to take stock of everyone inside. I nod at the man standing behind the front desk as we pass and head for the elevator. It’s a quiet ride up to the fifth floor, stress and anxiety flowing off of Sayward in excess.
“What’s making you so nervous?”
She glances at me, tucking a strand of her thick hair behind her ear as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. Everything about her body language says that she’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else. But she needs this, because she needs to believe her family isn’t fucking her over.
I can only hope that she’s right.
“I just hate being on high alert like this. I mean…the cartel in Wilmington? I thought I was safe here.” Her words trail away to almost nothing at the end, and I step into her space as the elevator doors open.
Pulling her out behind me, I scan the empty hallway first before dropping my bag and swinging her around until her back is against the wall and I’m cupping her chin in one hand while the other braces on the wall above her head.
“Listen to me, Sayward. The shithead cartel is no match for the men you have protecting you. You hear me? We will get you through this. I will get you through this.”
What is it about this woman that has promises rolling off my tongue like they’re nothing?
She blinks up at me, slowly, her long black eyelashes briefly brushing the tops of her cheekbones before she looks up to study my expression. I don’t move, and neither does she. It’s like she’s trying to read me, trying to measure my sincerity. I give her a full minute to figure out that I mean every damn word I say.
Every. Damn. Word.
Slowly, her eyes rake over every feature on my face. I can’t read anything in them until they meet mine again, and she reaches tentative fingers up to touch my face. And then I don’t need to read her, because I can feel her. I know her, regardless of the minuscule amount of time I’ve spent with her.