Page 77 of Sweet Madness
Shaw’s brown eyes turn darker. So dark that if I didn’t know him, it would scare me.
With a blank look on his face, he swiftly turns his back to me and pursues the man, closing the distance in determined strides. Then, in a swift and calculated motion, he reaches out, gripping the man firmly by the neck, his fingers tightening with restrained force. The drunken man, taken aback by the sudden and firm grasp, struggles against Shaw’s hold with slurred protests and attempts to break free. He looks red from not getting enough air in his lungs. While Shaw’s expression remains resolute, his eyes blaze with a mixture of anger and very little restraint.
The people inside and outside the diner pause in their activities, watching the confrontation unfold. Some with muted interest and others with concern. While I am momentarily stunned by Shaw’s angry outburst, I stand rooted to the spot, conflicted between concern for his safety and admiration for his sweet and protective nature.
“Let him go, Shaw Bear. He’s not worth it,” I say in a soothing tone, as if I’m trying to calm a wild animal.
Through gritted teeth, Shaw’s voice cuts through the air like a blade, commanding and firm. “Apologize.” His grip on the drunken man’s neck tightens in a silent warning.
The drunken idiot, initially defiant and cocky, freezes under my bodyguard’s unwavering gaze and the palpable tension in his dark and angry voice. The man refuses to apologize and begins to spew insults. As Shaw tightens his hold and cuts off the man’s air supply, I silently watch him struggle to breathe, his face turning red and his eyes bulging from his face. “Apologize, motherfucker,” Shaw mumbles through gritted teeth, looking like a beautiful nightmare.
Realizing he is no match for my six-foot-three, two-hundred-fifty-pound frame of pure muscle, the drunken man’s bravado falters. His demeanor changes as he mumbles a half-hearted apology, his words tinged with embarrassment and fury.
I stand motionless as I watch Shaw remain silent for a second too long before releasing the man’s neck with so much force that he almost falls to the ground. As the idiot stumbles away, speaking obscenities under his breath, Shaw remains vigilant, ready to strike again if needed.
I hold my breath as I look up at him in awe, never in fear—never fear.
Turning back to me, Shaw’s murderous expression softens slightly, though the anger of the moment lingers in his eyes. Without saying a word, he motions for me to head toward the exit, silently letting me know that it’s all over and that no one will hurt me.
I never doubt it for a second. Throughout the altercation, I feel completely safe because he is there—my superhero, with anger and sadness swirling in his deep brown eyes.
Together, we walk out of the diner, Shaw’s strong presence behind me feeling like a shield of protection. At that moment, he seems like a solitary soldier trapped in the midst of a war zone.
I know his job is to protect me, but what happened just now feels like so much more. It feels like a man willing to cross any line and even kill to keep me safe and to defend my honor.
His quick change of mood and deadly threat should scare me, but it does the opposite.
I must be crazy—crazy for this man.
Confusing my silence for fear, Shaw moves from behind me and touches my cheek. “Moonshine. You don’t need to fear me. I would never—” With a gentle smile, I rise onto my tiptoes and gently press a kiss to his cheek, my lips lingering briefly before I pull back.
Shaw’s brow furrows in confusion. “What was that for?” he mumbles.
“You’ve always been a superhero, Shaw, and you’ll always be worthy. Always,” I murmur softly, my voice filled with sincerity.
He seems momentarily caught off guard by my kiss and words, meeting my gaze with a mixture of fear, sadness, and…resolve. The world around us fades away once more, and the noise quiets as if we’re standing facing each other in our own faraway galaxy. “Shaw,” I say timidly, looking up at him, worried that I might have said something I shouldn’t have.
Seconds turn into minutes as we stare at one another.
Shaw’s blonde hair is trapped beneath a black beanie. His stubble has nearly turned into a beard these days, but in every way, he is beautiful. So, so beautiful that at times I find myself wondering if he might not be real after all, if he’s just a figment of my imagination, nothing more than a dream.
He leans in closer, the brown of his eyes deepening. His tongue darts out to lick his lower lip, sending a jolt between my legs. My pulse races, thundering in my ears.
Shaw lifts a hand, his fingertips brushing the hair at my temple. His eyelids flutter closed, and his breath brushes softly across my cheek. I remain still and breathless, afraid that if I blink, I will wake up and discover that this entire magical night is just a dream.
“I’m losing this war, cupcake,” he whispers, his hot breath kissing my face.
“W-what war?” I murmur, confused while holding onto his forearm, sure that if I let go, my weak knees will give up on me.
“I can’t hold back any longer. Just tell me yes. Tell me you want my mouth as much as I want yours.”
“I—” My breath hitches. “Yes.”
But then, as if losing the last bit of control he has, Shaw’s eyes harden before he grabs me by the back of the neck and gently pulls me closer to his body. His breathing grows ragged. “That shouldn’t have happened. That fucker...” His hand tightens in my hair, pulling me closer until our breaths mingle, and he whispers, “No one touches you. No one fucking hurts you. Ever.” With that perfect promise, he seals our fate by kissing me passionately. He kisses me like no one has ever kissed me before.
I melt against him, whimpering as he slides his tongue across my lower lip. He coaxes my mouth open, and when it does, his tongue does a lazy swirl against mine. He tastes spicy and male and incredible. He tastes like mine.
My hands come to his chest, fisting his black shirt. His muscled arms band around me, holding me close, as his body, hard and strong, bends around mine. Needing more of him, I lift up on my toes and snake my arms around his neck, locking my body to his.