Shattered: (McIntyre Security Bodyguard Series - Book 4)

by April Wilson

  I push open the door and step into the room. Shane pauses midstride and turns to face me. He’s dressed only in a pair of gray sweatpants, riding low on his lean hips. The sight of his bare chest makes me weak in the knees.

  “Troy, I have to go,” he says, never once taking his eyes off me. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow, all right?”

  Shane ends the call and lays his phone on his desk. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Couldn’t sleep?”

  I shake my head. “My mind’s racing, and I can’t stop thinking about Sam.”

  “Come here.” Shane draws me into his arms and kisses my forehead. “He’s going to be fine. You just have to give him time.”

  My arms go around his waist, and I revel in the heat of his body. I press my nose to his chest and inhale the tantalizing scent of his skin. My entire body flushes with desire. Pressing my lips to his sternum, I slip my hands beneath the waistband of his sweats and grip his firm buttocks. He groans.

  His hand slips beneath my nightgown, and his fingers glide easily between my folds. I know I’m wet – I can feel it.

  “Are you sure?” he says in a low voice.

  I give him a shaky laugh. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  He leans down and kisses me. “I’m just – I wasn’t sure. You’ve had a traumatic couple of days, and you were hurt, and now you’re pregnant.”

  “Apparently, I’ve been pregnant for over two months now, and that never stopped us before.”

  “I know, but that was when we were blissfully ignorant. Now, I know there’s a little person developing in there, and I don’t want to disturb her.”

  “Or him. You heard Dr. Shaw. She said sex is fine. She said not to worry.”

  “Right. Just no hanging from the chandeliers. I think I can abide by that.” He leads me to the sofa in his office and drops down into a sitting position. After pulling me to stand in front of him, between his spread knees, he pushes up my nightgown. “Here, hold this.”

  I gather my nightgown just below my breasts, exposing my bare belly and my sex to his heated gaze. He splays his broad hands over my lower abdomen, placing his thumbs at my belly button and his fingertips grazing my hips bones. His touch is reverent. He leans forward and kisses my belly, just below my belly button.

  When he looks up at me, I see the glitter of unshed tears in his eyes. “This doesn’t happen every day, you know,” he says, almost defensively.

  I run the fingers of my good hand through his hair, and I don’t think I’ve ever loved him more than I do right at this moment. “What doesn’t happen every day?” I know what he means, of course, but I want to hear him say it.

  “A man finds out he’s about to become a father for the first time. Cut me some slack here. It’s a bit momentous.”

  I lean forward to kiss him. “You’re going to be a great dad, you know that?”

  “If I am, it’s because I had a great role model. My dad’s pretty awesome, and I can’t wait for you to meet him. Now, let’s go have some very careful pregnancy sex.”

  Chapter 34

  Shane wasn’t kidding when he said careful pregnancy sex. After he carries me back to our bed and lays me down, he strips off his sweatpants and pulls my nightgown over my head. Then he crawls between my open thighs and settles himself down.

  “You might as well get comfortable, sweetheart,” he says. “I plan to take my time.”

  “You’re going to torture me, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe a little. But I’ll do it very carefully, I promise.”

  A very unladylike snort escapes me. This man. I shake my head. “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  He smiles. “A few times. But keep it up. It’s good for my self-esteem.”

  I laugh. “I think your self-esteem is just fine.”

  When he flicks my clitoris with the tip of his tongue, my back bows off the bed and I cry out.

  He lays his hand on my abdomen. “Lie still. No thrashing.”

  “I’m not thrashing.”

  “Yes, you are. We have to be careful.”

  I roll my eyes, knowing full well he’s enjoying this way too much. “Oh, please.”

  He really wasn’t kidding when he said carefully. He makes love to me with gentle licks and swipes of his tongue, teasing and swirling and ratcheting up my arousal to a fever pitch. I moan shamelessly. “Shane, please,” I say, trying to pull him closer. I want him inside me.

  “Shh.” He runs his middle finger through my wetness, then sinks it slowly inside me, working it deeper and deeper until he finds what he’s looking for. As he strokes that tender spot inside me, I feel another slippery finger teasing the rosette of my anus.

  “Oh, God,” I moan, realizing his intentions. Since I met Shane, I’ve discovered more erogenous zones than I ever knew existed. It’s been an eye-opening revelation. I had no idea back there was an erogenous zone until Shane proved it to me with a life-altering orgasm. “Not fair!” I groan.

  “Everything’s fair in love and war, but especially in love. Now relax and let me in. It’s just a finger. You can handle that.”

  I take a deep breath and force myself to relax, allowing him to work his slick finger inside my tight back hole. His thumb brushes against my clit, making me shiver, and he leans forward to kiss me. I’m panting now, overwhelmed by the two-pronged assault. His thumb circling my clit and his slippery finger gently nudging its way inside my tight anus is driving me insane.

  “Shh, lie still,” he whispers against my lips. “Just relax and feel it.”

  “You’re killing me,” I wail plaintively.

  He drinks in my desperate cries, unrelenting in his teasing and stroking. Eventually, his finger works its way in, and I’m relaxed enough now to let him stroke my there inside. It’s not long before an explosive orgasm hits me, one that makes me cry out loud enough to shake the rafters.

  Shane surges above me and swallows my cries. “That’s my girl,” he says, smiling down at me. His torturous fingers leave my body and he sinks his hips between my wet, trembling thighs. Ever so gently, he guides the head of his erection to my wetness and presses inside just enough to sink the broad crown. I sigh, feeling swamped with pleasurable feelings. Both my clit and my back side are still tingling from my orgasm, and now his erection is filling me, stretching my soft, wet tissues. With my good hand, I stroke his back, urging him to move, to give in to his own needs. But he holds steady.

  “I love you,” he says, suddenly very serious. “You’re it for me. Everything starts and stops with you. You know that, right?’

  I nod, feeling my throat tighten. And I realize how foolish I was to ever doubt him, even for a second. He gives everything of himself to me, everything. There’s nothing left for him to give anyone else. He’s mine, just as I’m his.

  He kisses me senseless as his hips begin to rock forward and back. As he works himself gently inside me, my body softens to accommodate him.

  I gasp at the size of him, as he slowly stretches me. “Oh, God, Shane.”

  He drinks in my whimpers and the keening cries I can’t hold back. Once seated fully inside me, he pauses a moment, giving me time to adjust.

  I grab hold of his bicep, clenching it tightly when my pulse begins to race. I take a deep breath, trying to relax, but it’s not helping, and suddenly I’m breathing too fast and too hard. My lungs feel like they’re being squeezed, and I can’t catch my breath. I feel pinned down, caged in, and suddenly claustrophobic. I push against his chest in our prearranged signal, alerting him that I’m about to have a panic attack. “Shane.”

  Immediately, he rolls us to our sides so that we’re lying face to face, still joined together. He hitches my thigh up over his, giving him better access, and he withdrawals then sinks back inside me. “Is this better?”

  I nod, able to breathe again and relax as he strokes smoothly and steadily in and out of me. As I’m drifting on a cloud of residual pleasure, he picks up his pace. When his muscles tense, I know he’s close. I clench my vagina
l muscles, and he grits his teeth, grimacing with pleasure.

  “Fuck!” He throws his head back, the tendons in his throat stretched taut, as he releases a steady stream of liquid heat inside me. Over and over, he erupts inside me, his cock bucking as he fills me.

  He gives me long, languid kisses as his orgasm wanes. After he pulls out, he disappears into the bathroom and returns with a warm, wet washcloth to clean me up with. Afterward, I roll onto my side and he spoons against my backside, his arm around my waist.

  Warm, sated, and happy, I slip quickly into sleep.

  * * *

  The next morning, Shane and I enjoy a leisurely breakfast together at the kitchen counter. Between the two of us, we managed to prepare scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee (mine decaf) without burning a thing. Cooper would be proud of us.

  As Shane’s making our second cups of coffee with the Keurig machine, I scroll through the news headlines on my phone, and one of the stories catches my attention. It’s about a celebrity powerhouse couple who are tying the knot – the focus of the story is their mutual prenuptial agreements. And that makes me realize Shane and I have never even discussed a prenuptial agreement.

  At first, I find the topic a bit depressing. The prospect of entering into a marriage with a fail-safe mechanism already in place seems to be admitting defeat from the outset. I don’t want to marry Shane just to divorce him in a few years. I’m marrying him because I want to spend the rest of my life with him. And the truth is, if something does happen to our marriage and we want to end it for some unfathomable reason, I wouldn’t even take any of his money. It’s his money – he built his company and his fortune from the ground up. It’s not mine, and I don’t feel entitled to any of it.

  Considering his net worth, though, having a prenuptial agreement in place is a prudent step. I’m sure Troy has counseled him already on the need for an agreement.

  I smile as he hands me my second cup of coffee for the morning – this one a French vanilla decaf. “Has Troy talked to you about drawing up a prenuptial agreement?”

  He freezes in the act of reaching for his own second cup of coffee. “What in the world made you think to ask that?”

  I shrug. “Isn’t it customary when one party brings a lot more wealth into the marriage than the other party? You’re worth a fortune, so it only makes sense we’d have one.” I strive to sound very matter of fact about the whole issue, but I have to admit the whole idea makes me uneasy.

  “Troy mentioned it, yes,” he says, hedging a bit.

  I nod, fully intending to be a realist about this. I’m not going to get bent out of shape just because he has certain financial assets he needs to protect. I totally get that. “Good. Naturally, he would. It just didn’t occur to me before now. I’ll be happy to sign whatever you want me to sign.”

  “Beth.” Shane lays his hand on mine and links our fingers together. “I’m not asking you to sign a prenuptial agreement.”

  “It’s standard procedure, right? When one partner comes into the marriage with a significant amount of wealth? It just makes sense. I’m totally fine with it.”

  He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. “No prenup.”

  “Shane, be realistic. You have a great deal of wealth, and naturally – ”

  He interrupts my sensible speech with a kiss. “I said no.”

  “What did Troy say about that?” I know Troy tells Shane like it is.

  “He wasn’t happy, but I don’t care. You’re not signing a prenup, and that’s that. End of story.”

  Shane picks up his phone when it chimes. “Miguel’s here, asking to come up.”

  Shane gives Miguel the passcode to operate the private elevator. A few moments later, we hear the ding signaling the arrival of the elevator car. The doors slide open, and out steps Miguel.

  “Hey, guys,” he says, entering the great room. He’s dressed in dark jeans, a black T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. And I’m sure there’s a gun holster underneath that jacket.

  “Would you like some breakfast or coffee?” Shane says.

  Miguel shakes his head. “Thanks, but I’m good.” Then he looks my way. “How are you feeling, Beth?”

  “I feel great. I was a little queasy this morning, as usual, but hot food and coffee perked me right up, pardon the pun.”

  I hop down from my counter stool, then kiss Shane before heading to our suite to brush my teeth and grab my purse and jacket. When I return, I arrive just in time to hear the tail end of their conversation.

  “And try to keep her in the bookstore,” Shane says to Miguel. “If she absolutely insists on going somewhere, go by vehicle. I don’t want her out walking right now. At least not until we’ve got this hit-and-run case resolved.”

  Miguel nods. “Got it.”

  Shane’s already dressed for work, so he escorts us downstairs to the front lobby, where Miguel and I hail a taxi to take us to Clancy’s.

  “Be safe,” Shane says, drawing me into his arms for a goodbye kiss. “If you get tired or don’t feel well, come straight home and call me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  Chapter 35

  There’s a welcoming committee waiting for me just inside the entrance to Clancy’s. Erin, Mack, and a half-dozen other employees greet me at the door with warm cheers.

  Mack greets Miguel with a handshake – those two obviously already know each other. Then I introduce Miguel to the others and explain that he’ll be with us for a while… until Sam comes back to work.

  Erin hands me a small bouquet of white daisies and gives me a hug, careful of my arm brace. “Thank God you’re back. These were the longest two days of my life. Not only did you scare me to death, but you left me in charge. Please don’t ever leave me in charge again.”

  “Erin, I’m sure you did just fine without me.”

  Mack pats Erin on the back. “Erin did a great job, Beth. Don’t let her fool you.”

  After accepting everyone’s well wishes and giving them a brief update on Sam’s condition, I head upstairs to my office, accompanied by Erin and Miguel.

  “So, how did it go while I was gone?” I ask Erin, once we’re safely inside my office and away from prying ears. Miguel leaves us for a moment to check out the administrative offices.

  “Well, the place didn’t burn down,” Erin says, “so I guess that’s good.”

  “I didn’t mean the store, Erin. I meant with Mack. Anything new?”

  Erin rolls her eyes at me. “Give me a break. Of course not. He treats me like I’m a child.”

  “Obviously you’re not. I still think you should take the bull by the horn, so to speak. Ask him out. Don’t wait for him to make a move. You do it.”

  Erin’s sweet round face flushes three shades of pink. “Oh, my God, I couldn’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  She makes a duh face at me. “What if he says no?”

  I make the same face right back at her. “What if he says yes?”

  She looks at me like I’m insane.

  “How about at the wedding reception?” I say. “You could ask him to dance.”

  She ponders the idea for a moment. “I suppose I could do that.”

  “Of course you could.”

  Our conversation is derailed by a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” I say.

  The door opens, and Mack pops his head inside my office. “I’m just going to borrow Miguel for a few minutes, if you don’t mind,” he says. “I want to introduce him to the store’s security personnel and give him a tour of the control room.”

  “Sure, go right ahead.”

  Mack closes the door behind him, and Erin practically faints on the sofa. “Ugh, I hate this!” she says, smacking her hands on the sofa cushions. “I can’t stop thinking about him, and he doesn’t even know I exist.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I tell her. “I’ve seen how he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching. You are definitely on his ra
dar screen.”

  “When he does pay me attention, he treats me like I’m his kid sister.”

  I laugh. “Well, you’re not a kid, and you’re certainly not his sister. You just need to make him realize that.”

  * * *

  Apparently, they don’t need me around here, because the store ran perfectly smoothly the past day and a half while I was out. There were no problems, no disasters, no fires to put out.

  “You’re amazing,” I tell Erin, as she heads toward the door. “Thank you.”

  She gives me a fake scowl. “Don’t leave me in charge again. It was stressful.”

  After Erin leaves, I check my e-mail inbox and answer some questions. I glance at the empty window seat where Sam likes to sit and play games on his phone, and I feel a pang of sadness. I miss him. It feels weird being at Clancy’s without Sam. And I feel guilty that he’s in the hospital to begin with. No matter what Shane says, it’s my fault he got hurt.

  I don’t want to sit here and worry, so I head out of my office. Miguel intercepts me in the administrative suite and follows me downstairs.

  “This place is pretty impressive,” he says, looking over the balcony railing at the crowded sales floor below.

  “Well, I can’t take any credit for that. It was impressive to begin with. I just inherited it from the previous owner and am doing my best to keep it running smoothly.”

  Miguel and I head downstairs, and I start making my rounds through the various departments, doing my usual thing, straightening displays, chatting with employees, greeting customers.

  Shane calls me mid-morning with an update on Sam – he’s making progress. The swelling in his skull has diminished and his head feels a lot better. At lunchtime, Erin, Miguel, and I eat in the cafe. I’m a little tired, and I don’t feel like going out.

  I’m glad when the day’s over and I can head home. Miguel comes upstairs with me to the penthouse and hangs out with me until Shane arrives home about a half hour later, bringing Chinese carry-out with him. We talk Miguel into staying for dinner, and the three of us sit on the sofa and eat while the guys watch part of a recorded basketball game.