192_A Dark Mafia Bodyguard Romance

by Nikki Belaire

  Oblivious to Viviana’s turmoil she chatters away. Giving Viviana everything she needs —friendship, freedom, fun ― everything I want for her. While instead I devastate her with my irrationality.

  “Okay. So the party starts at six, and here’s…” She hoists up her red bag, using the little beach ball shaped bump under her jacket as a shelf, and digs through the contents before yanking out a yellow card. “…the address.”

  Viviana nods. Mute and pale and so fucking lost. I accept the invitation on our behalf to avoid increasing her anxiety any more. Cute with pots of sunflowers infused with tiny baby faces surrounded by white petals. “Thanks Mia. We’ll be there.”

  “Great! I’m so glad! See you then!”

  Luckily so caught up in their excitement, neither of them seem to catch Viviana’s lack of enthusiasm. Just offering another quick hug and a few waves before they hustle to the bakery next door.

  Viviana stares at the door they entered. Entranced by their departure. Maybe wishing she was with them. Maybe hoping to be anyplace but with me.

  “Come on. Let’s go.”

  I push the button for the remote start and guide her to the second row of doors. No reaction to the deviation from our normal routine. No response when I slide in next to her and lift her onto my lap. She’s freezing and frightened and I can’t get her close enough. I need to do whatever it takes to bring her back from where I lost her.

  “I thought…” Her body tremors harder against my chest. “You said you would kill to protect me.”

  “I know…and I will. But not people like her angel. Not your friend. Just people who want to hurt you. That’s all. No one else.”

  “Okay.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I clutch her tight because I don’t know what else the fuck to do. Because we’re sitting in the backseat of a running car in the middle of town, and she thinks I’m going to kill an innocent pregnant woman in broad day light. Fuck me for being so stupid and smug that I thought I could actually help her.

  A surreal sensation to be in the midst of our world crumbling while watching other people walk by. Unaware the agony behind the tinted windows of my SUV. Some scurry while others meander. Checking off to-do lists or just killing time until the next activity they wait for begins. While I stroke the hair of a broken princess who wants that life and I can’t seem to give it to her. No matter how hard I try.

  “Arturo never held me.”

  It takes everything I have not to tense from hearing that motherfucker’s name. Already trying to hide the raging inside of me from her, I can’t show any weakness when she needs my strength. “He didn’t?”

  Of course he didn’t. Nothing but a cruel pathetic bastard.

  “No. Not once. I’d forgotten how nice it feels.”

  “It is nice.” I don’t think I could sound any more idiotic. With us so precarious, I’m fucking terrified myself we’ll plunge over. Never able to claw our way back up if I say or do the wrong thing. “I like it too.”

  “Tonight…when we…will you hold me like this.”

  I have no idea what she’s asking because I sure as hell know she’s not ready for sex. But whatever she requests, then fuck yes I will. “Tonight and every night. I’ll hold you as often and as long as you want.”

  “Good.” Her body finally softens and the quaking stops. A long calming sigh blows on my neck from her head tucked into my shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Mia and her mom pass by again. Blissful with each other and the circumstance bringing them together today. Her mother’s hand pressing against her daughter’s belly covered by Mia’s fingers. Both of them beaming from a kick or flip of the little joy growing inside.

  I get the same niggling feeling in the back of my head I’ve been pondering over. That maybe some mom love is what Viviana needs too. That she could benefit from maternal fussing and concern and affection. And god would my mother love that opportunity. After raising five ornery boys, she would lose her mind over my angel’s sweetness. Waiting to introduce her to my parents seemed like a good idea. Give her the chance to settle in before overwhelming her with my family. But I think both of us can benefit from the help of someone with more emotional well-being than either of us. “Are you ready to head home?”

  That question makes her fly up. “I thought we were going hiking?”

  She really looks shocked. Like it’s perfectly normal to keep your plans after you thought the man who says he loves you was going to shoot your only friend. Violence so common around her and to her, she keeps on moving forward. Either that or I’ve genuinely convinced her she can trust me. My churning gut tells me it’s the former. “Only if you still want to. Or if you want to go home, that’s all right to. Whatever you want.”

  “I want to be with you.”

  “Me too.” My admission coaxes a smile out of her that I can’t understand. Or resist. “Then let’s go hiking.”

  I don’t think things can get any more fucking awkward. I mean I’ve stared down the barrel of a loaded gun. Gotten the shit beat out of me until I was unrecognizable. Lost so much blood I flat lined on the table twice. And now here I am fucking afraid of a delicate woman with a fragile heart who owns me with just a touch.

  After the fiasco this morning, the rest of the day was as relaxed and comfortable as I hoped the afternoon would be. She loved the waterfall, frozen in its crystalized arc to the earth. The droplets thawing in the broad sunlight twinkling brighter than diamonds. So inquisitive of the rock formations and small caves, we stayed long enough that we walked the trail back in the moonlight.

  I loved that she taught me how to use chopsticks despite the fact she’d never eaten Chinese food before. Another skill she learned from her etiquette coach Miss Elaine that she finally tried out herself as well as enjoyed the pleasure of showing me something I didn’t know how to do. Now after the perfect evening, she’s lies snuggled up to me. Holding her just like she wished. Cuddling together under a heavy blue throw in front of the fireplace where we seem to end up every night.

  Except tonight is different.

  Tonight she could end the evening in my bed.

  If she wants.

  Or, even more so, if she wants, but isn’t afraid to admit her desire. I kiss the top of her head. “Are you ready to call it a day princess?”

  She stretches out against me. Graceful and lithe as a purring cat. With eyes just as mysterious. I can’t read her thoughts at all.

  “Yes, the fire always makes me so sleepy. I don’t even know if I can get up.”

  The perfect opportunity. I gently curl her tighter to me and stand. Stepping over the blanket as the navy fabric falls to my feet. So fucking better than all the times I had to carry her because she couldn’t walk herself.

  Giggling as she looks up, coiling her arms around my neck. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking care of you.”

  Pink circles grow on her cheeks. Already rosy from the heat of the blaze, her skin still blushes from my attempt at charm. She studies me as I stride down the hall, forcing my feet left to her room. I have to give her the option. “After you brush your teeth and everything, do you want me to come back for you? Or do you want to sleep in here? It’s whatever you want, and either way is fine with me.”

  Which is a lie but my cock and I will keep that falsehood to ourselves. She doesn’t answer, and I have no choice but to put her down. To keep my promise. To her and myself. To us.

  “Come back.” Her voice stalls, and she clears her throat. Finally meeting my gaze again. The pulse in her slender neck throbbing. “I want you to come back for me.”

  God fucking damn. My girl spoke up. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud of her as I am in this moment. I caress her lifted cheek. Beautiful eyes bright and clear with unquestioning anticipation. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

  Despite my pussy ass giddiness, I somehow manage to remember to kiss her before I walk away. Racing down the hall to my room, I yank of
f my fleece and jeans. Fly through brushing my teeth and jerk on a pair of trainers. Because I’ll be damned if I’m late. Or do anything to make her think I changed my mind again.

  I know I’m supposed to be patient and gentle and calm with her but god damn she takes my fucking breath away when I catch sight of her standing in front of the mirror braiding her long hair. Wearing some flimsy silk tank and boy shorts that she didn’t model for me during our shopping spree but I sure as hell love just the same.

  “Hi.”

  Her reflection smiles at me, and I’m done. So fucking done as I stalk toward her and scoop her up. Not even letting her finish securing the rubber band around the end of the bundled strands. “Hi angel.”

  She’s so soft and silky. So fucking much of her satin skin touching mine. Rubbing against me. And it’s still not enough. I place gentle kisses on her lips while I carry her to my —our —bed. Where she will always be from now on. This guest room bullshit ends now.

  Handling her as reverently as a wife should be treated, I lay her on the mattress and breathe in the glorious view. Relishing the intoxicating vision of her finally here with me before I climb in next to her. Welcoming her clutching my body to hers. Arms tight around my waist as her head tucks under my chin. My traitorous cock concrete against her pussy. Well aware how close he is to her heaven.

  Not that I’ve had that many women in my bed but the ones I’ve had always wanted to fuck and then flip over to spoon. I guess my delicate princess doesn’t want to be the little spoon. Which if fine by me. I’ll take her however I can have her.

  I slide my hand under the hem of her top and massage her back. The only touch I trust myself to offer her until she asks for more. Dainty bones ripple under my fingers that would crack if I knead too hard. Too damn skinny for my taste, but with the way I’ve been feeding her, hopefully her curves will start showing soon.

  Her muscles loosen under my strokes, and I love her body relaxing. The tension evaporating with each caress. The stress releasing ridiculously easy despite the craziness of our day. Hell of our fucking lives.

  “Is this wrong?”

  Probably on more levels than I want to admit. “I don’t know. But we’re two consenting adults not bothering anyone else, so I guess it only matters what we think.”

  “It doesn’t feel wrong.”

  “Not to me either.” As dumb as it seems, I swear I feel her smile as much as I can see her grin. “It’s clichéd I guess, but nothing has ever felt more right to me than being here with you.”

  She seems to like that answer. Lifting her head and meeting my gaze.

  “Will it hurt?”

  Rage explodes through my body, burning in my chest. I know exactly what the fuck she asks me, and I’m almost nauseous from her inquiry. But she brought up the question. She wants to know. If my girl’s this fucking brave to ask, then I have to be fucking man enough to answer. “Will what hurt?”

  “When you’re inside me?”

  Goosebumps rise on my blazing skin from her despondent whisper. Motherfucker. That god damn fucking motherfucker. I hate the proof that bastard hurt her when he fucked her. “I don’t want it to. And if it does, we’ll stop. Because the last thing I will ever do is hurt you.”

  “I know.”

  Two words.

  Two simple words.

  Two perfect words. Changing my entire fucking world from her effortless agreement to my proclamation. I give her the same response she gives to me when I’ve relieved her worry. “Good. I’m glad you know.”

  If we’re being completely honest with each, there’s something I need to admit to her too. “This morning when I told you I wasn’t sorry, that wasn’t completely true.” I talk quickly before she gets the wrong idea. This isn’t about church or God or confession. It’s all about her. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you away from Arturo sooner. I’m sorry for all the times I failed you. I’m sorry–“

  Soft hands slide around my cheeks and stunt my words. Shocking me when her thumb rubs across my lips.

  “You’ve been better to me in the last five minutes than Arturo was the whole time we were married. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

  Sad when a woman’s expectations are so damn low that a back rub and whispers in the dark are the best experience she’s had in bed. Especially in her husband’s bed. Motherfucker.

  Humbled by her exoneration I can barely speak. But I swear to myself I’ll be everything he wasn’t for her. “I don’t want to focus on the past anymore. Maybe that’s unfair to you because I know you’ve been through a hell I can’t completely understand. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it a heartbeat. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

  “I’m not sure except that I need you.”

  Fuck me. She blows me away yet again with her courage. “Same here. I realize how much, more and more each day.”

  “You love me.”

  Absolute conviction in her statement. “Yeah, I think pretty much since the moment I met you. I knew in an instant how incredible you are.”

  The smile on her delicate face reaches all the way to my thudding heart, and I can’t hold back any more. Not when I see her glowing from my words despite the dim light in the otherwise empty room. When she welcomes my touch and my affection.

  Carefully I palm her hip and roll her onto her back. Pushing up on my elbow and running my fingertips from her forehead past her temple to cup her cheek. Feather light touches seeking permission. Confirming I’ll take my time and never cause her any pain.

  Deep breaths rise and fall in her chest and a shiver vibrates through her slender body. Slow. Slow. Slow. I remind myself again and again. I kiss across her shoulder and back again to the other side. Tasting the sweet essence of her velvet skin. Drawing down the tiny straps to fully bare her magnificent body to me.

  Her head tips back, giving me full access to her throat. I bite the little pulse in the hollow of her neck. Scraping the tiny bones with my teeth before working my way down to her sweet round tits. So full and pert they already stand at attention for me beneath the pink fabric. Tugging the lacy edge of her top down to her waist, I expose her to me completely. Fucking stunning. I stroke up her rib cage and cup her left breast in my hand. “Look angel. See how beautiful you are.”

  I shift my weight to the side, planking her so she can witness our love making too. Understand how fucking gorgeous she is. Only a quick glance before her eyes lock with mine again. I smile, nodding my reassurance. “You’re amazing princess. So fucking perfect.”

  I suck that perfect taut rosy nipple into my mouth, and smile against the pulsing nub when her fingers drive through my hair. Holding my head in place like I’m fucking going anywhere. Not when my princess responds so exquisitely from my undivided attention.

  Sliding my hand under her arching back, I lift her glorious tits higher and deeper. Helping her chase what she needs. From my tongue. From my lips. From me.

  The most intoxicating moan I’ve ever heard vibrates in her chest. Fuck me if I haven’t given my girl such pleasure. I have to see her face again. I lift my eyes and meet hers. But the ecstasy I expect is missing.

  Instead…fear.

  God damn fucking fear.

  Sheer terror floods her expression, and she inches back from me, squashing the pillow against the headboard in her urgency to get away. Jerking her top up to cover herself. No. What the fuck have I done?

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I promise I’ll be quiet. You don’t have to get the gag. I’ll be quiet, I swear.”

  Fucking god damn shit. I slowly push off the mattress and fall back on my heels. Fucking hating her fear. Hating him for putting the terror there. Hating myself for not figuring out how bad he fucked her up before I tried to make love to her. I dig my fist into my thigh to focus on keeping the fury out of my voice. “I will never gag you. I want to hear you. Every breath. Every word. Every moan.”

  “But, Ar…” I must fail at keeping the rage off my face because she pauses at the menti
on of his name. “He would get mad when I would cry. I wasn’t supposed to make any noise. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you. I don’t know what your rules are in here. I —I don’t know what you want.”

  And now she’s crying. I’ve made her fucking cry. I truly am a bastard. God damn it. So god damn fucking fragile. All it would take is one wrong word to break her. To push her so far I couldn’t get her back.

  So I don’t use any at all. Instead, I slide next to her, curling her against me and kissing the top of her head. Comfort her until her sobs subside. Console her while her pulse slows and the anxiety wanes. Draw her tighter to me when her body finally softens and tuck the blankets around her.

  I try to empty my mind. Not let her sense my anger or my disgust from that bastard’s ghost haunting her. Just focus on the white noise of the heat kicking on and the gift of her bundled in the crook of my arm, her sweet head on my chest. Just her and me. Here and together. And it’s enough. More than enough. I’m relaxed and content holding her.

  Until delicate fingers brush over my pec and my curious cock jumps to life again from her inquisitive touch.

  “You’re very muscular.”

  Fuck me. I hold still as a corpse to keep from ravishing her as she lovingly traces over the ridges. Letting her explore me just like I did her. Giving her complete control that, if I was as smart as I like to fucking think I am, I should have done from the beginning. “That feels good. I like it when you touch me.”

  She looks up. Her damp cheek sliding easily over my sensitized skin. A bashful smile gracing her lips from my encouragement. “Really?”

  “Yeah, princess. Really.”

  A slow nod, seeming to accept this unexpected confirmation. Wrapping the comforter around herself, she props up on her elbow as if inspecting me with her eyes before she dares to venture farther. I’m beyond desperate for her to venture further. My own body quivers as she traces the ink on my bicep down my forearm to my wrist.

  “I like your tattoos.”