Page 41 of Bodyguard My Heart

Font Size:

Page 41 of Bodyguard My Heart

“Exactly!” I added, causing her to giggle. We settled into a comfortable silence as we ate, and nothing seemed to matter. Not the cartel, not the fact that somebody had tried to kill me. The only thing that mattered in that moment was me and Samara. She had some shit to work out within herself, but I would be there every step of the way, talking her through it.

Thunder roared from above, and the sky opened up, allowing a light drizzle to fall around us.

“Oh my!” Samara shrieked frantically. She started trying to gather our things, but I sat my food to the side and pulled her incloser. We were barely getting wet under the tent. I wasn’t about to let a little rain interrupt our night.

“Stay. The rain just makes this more beautiful.” I pulled her into me even more. I loved being close to her. The feel of our skin touching was the best fucking thing in the world. It gave me more peace than any blunt.

“Here, I have something for you.” I grabbed the box next to me and handed it to her. Her eyes ballooned as she opened it.

“A diary?” She looked between me and the rose-colored book.

“In case you don't want to tell me your secrets.”

She didn’t say anything… Just put the diary to the side and mounted me.

“I want to tell you my secrets.” Her voice was low, and my dick was already hard as fuck. “I’ve never felt seen or heard before you. I’ve never felt as though my heart was safe with anyone.”

“Your secrets, your heart, I’m the bodyguard of both of them motherfuckers.” I tapped the spot on her chest just above her heart. “Do you hear me, baby girl?”

“I hear you.” She rolled her hips across my lap. If I wasn’t working with just one fully functional leg, I’d bend her ass over and fuck the shit out of her right now. It was probably a good thing I couldn’t, though. It made the ambiance more intimate. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pulled her into a hug. We stayed like that for a minute, just listening to the rainfall around us blend with the beat of our hearts.

“Tell me your secrets, baby girl.” I kissed her. She raised her head to look at me and then nuzzled her face back into my neck.

“When I was a little girl, I dreamed of doing stuff like this with my daddy.”

My eyes bulged, and I turned my head to peer at her.What the hell is she talking about?

“Not this… You know, like the girls on TV. Daddy-daughter dates. A walk to the park, a trip to the toy store. A movie night camping out in a fort,” she explained, and I allowed her to rest her head back in the crook of my neck. “When I was eight. I asked my dad if he could take me to the movies. It was right after my mom had passed. He said yeah. So, I got all dressed up. We got to the movies, and he watched maybe two minutes of it before his phone rang, and he had to run off. He left me at the movies alone and had the nanny pick me up. I was so scared. So devastated.”

I pulled her in closer as I made circular motions on her back. I could still feel the pain in her words as she talked.

“That was the day I vowed never to date a man who had anything to do with the cartel like my father.”

I pulled her up. I wanted to look into her face when I asked her this question.

“What other times did your father let you down?” I wanted to know so that I’d never let her down in those same ways.

“I’m killing the mood. I’m sorry.” She tried to deflect.

“You are the mood.”

She took a deep breath before replying.

“My father never took me to a school dance. When Royale was old enough, he started going in his place, but it wasn't the same.” She held her fingers up.

“He missed my birthdays, but he always sent a gift. Oh, or planned a party that he didn't even attend. Several Christmases, my first period, my first date. You remember you and Royale had to see me off?” She dropped a finger every time she named something. She was laughing, but I could tell it was a coping mechanism. Just another way she’d learned to deal with constantly being disappointed.

“I’m sorry your father wasn’t there for you. I'm sorry he didn’t know how important his job was as the first man to holdyour heart.” I kissed her lips, and tears once again coated her cheeks, and it burned me up inside. I was ready to send a prison hit into his fucking jail cell for being such a suck ass fucking father. He was already on my shit list for what he’d done to Royale and Monroe, but now I really wanted his ass. Cartel or not, he should have been there more. When I was a kid, I looked up to Mr. London. Now, I just saw him for what he was—a bad person who was only concerned about himself. He was the perfect example of a father that thought he could provide money in place of love and time, and Samara was the perfect example of why that shit didn’t work. It only taught her how to build borders around her heart.

“You don't have to worry about that anymore because I have your heart now, and I know what to do with it.”

Our lips once again connected. This time, Samara had thrown her lips onto mine.

“Enough about me. Your turn. Tell me your secrets,” she asked back. “I’m your diary too.”

I wanted to tell her about my thoughts about retiring from the cartel, but I didn’t want to get her hopes up if that wasn’t possible.

“Come here,” I commanded. I was talking more to her pussy as I lifted her in the air so she could remove my dick from my basketball shorts and insert me inside her wet center. Her pussy engulfed me, and an immediate rush of pleasure shot through my body.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books