Burn: A South Beach Bodyguards Book (23 page)

I exploded. I didn’t mean to, but I did. “That’s not the fucking point!” Turning to the couch, I yanked the throw blanket off of it. “It’s January, put some goddamned clothes on.”

The blanket I hurled at her hit her in the tits and slid down to the floor. She made no move to pick it up.

“What is the fucking point?”

She was so calm it made me even more frustrated. “I had one job! One goddamn job! To keep you safe and I couldn’t even do that.” I closed and opened my fists over and over, adrenaline pumping through my veins. “I failed. That is all I have to offer to you and I couldn’t even do that.”

Isabel looked shocked. “Why do you think that’s all you have to offer?”

“I’m not smart or educated or good-looking and I make shitty conversation. Look, I like myself just fine, so don’t mistake what I’m saying. This isn’t about me. This is about you and what you deserve.” I rubbed the back of my head. “It’s important to me to be able to protect you, because it’s something I’m good at. And I failed.”

For a second I could only stare at Ryan. The tiles were cold on my feet and I had sweaty palms from my impulsive bold move of stripping down to nothing. I hadn’t intended to do that when I texted him, but then when I’d heard him pull in the driveway I had thought maybe if he saw me as he had that night he’d come home and I was in his shower, he would forget about all his noble intentions.

But I had never suspected that he was actually feeling like he wasn’t manly enough. Ryan wore masculinity like a cologne. He was rough and raw and hard and covered in calluses. He was the epitome of the testosterone-driven male. What did he think he was supposed to do to protect me? I had to live a life.

My issues were not with the fact that Juan had targeted me to get a gun back from Ryan, they were from Ryan getting out of bed and leaving me alone. I was angry because he made me feel everything and then he gave me nothing.

It was one thing to never see me again after our night together, but I had wanted closure. A tender kiss, a goodbye, an opportunity for me to say thank you. He had fucked that up by taking off under the bullshit cover of his job.

I ignored the blanket he bent over and tried to hand me again. My nudity didn’t feel vulnerable. I felt powerful. For the first time, I realized that we were actually equals. It wasn’t me asking Ryan for a favor. It was me figuratively standing head-to-head with him and telling him what I felt.

“You couldn’t have known about Juan,” I started, intending to expand on that, but he cut me off.

“I should have. I talked to my dad about doing a background check on him. Did Mickey do it? I don’t know. I never asked, because I was too busy touching your naked body.”

“I forgive you,” I said, because I realized he didn’t want me to keep protesting. “But I also accept responsibility for distracting you.”

He shook his head and made a snorting sound. “You don’t get it.”

“Explain it to me.” I tried to keep my voice soothing but Lord, the man was stubborn.

Ryan looked agonized. “I will die if something happens to you again. When I realized you were in danger, when I saw you on the floor.” He gestured wildly to the floor by the stairs. “Right there, tears on your face, I wanted to kill Juan. And I couldn’t stand that I couldn’t keep you safe. But then I realized you had been put at risk because I was too much of a pussy to spend the night with you.”

“Why couldn’t you spend the night with me?” I went on my tiptoes and touched his cheek. “I don’t bite.”

“I’ve never done that. Ever. With anyone. I don’t think I… can.”

The agony in his voice brought tears to my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t understand that. And I’m sorry I’ve pushed you so hard into all of this.” Now I did reach down and pick up the blanket. I wrapped myself, tears silently falling down each cheek. “You’re right. I do deserve more. I deserve big love, the kind that is offered freely because he can’t contain his happiness. Not tentative, let’s see how it goes dating. I want stupid, crazy, irrational love. I want a Taylor Swift song and I want cuddling and laughter and stupid nicknames and texts where we miss each other for no reason. Maybe that’s childish and naïve and unrealistic, but I
want
that. If you can’t give me that, I’ll wait for the guy who can.”

Ryan’s mouth was open and I thought for the briefest held breath, that he was going to say he was it. That guy. The moment held in the air, hope clinging to me like dew on a leaf in the earliest dawn. But then the drop gave up its hold on the leaf and plummeted to the ground.

His shoulders dropped and he closed his mouth. He rubbed his jaw. Then he moved around me to the front door. He reached for the knob. He put his hand on it.

My heart crumpled.

At least I had tried. I had said what I needed to. Now it was time to put my crush behind me and move beyond all of this.

But Ryan turned and I braced myself for whatever he was going to say. It would hurt, whatever it was. I knew that much.

He didn’t say a word. He strode the few feet between us with hard, pounding steps, his hand reaching out and gripping my hair. Startled I stared up at him, about to ask him what the hell, when he kissed me, a fierce, possessive kiss. When he let go a minute later I was breathing heavy, heart and inner thighs aching.

“I’m that guy.” Ryan reached down, and swept me off the floor. “No one else is going to touch you, because Isabel, I’m that fucking guy. I’m going to make you laugh and smile and miss me for no reason. I’m going to give you a stupid nickname and I’m going to cuddle the fucking hell out of you, for real this time.”

There was a huge ass lump in my throat and I swallowed it so I could speak. “Why?” I needed to know. I needed to hear it.

“Because I’m crazy, stupid, irrationally in love with you.”

My jaw worked but I had no words. Only tears. This didn’t happen to girls like me. I didn’t get the movie ending.

Ryan carried me up the stairs one at a time, effortlessly.

When he lay me down on the bed, I realized this once the plain stepsister with amnesia was going to get the guy. The thought made me smile.

He started to peel the blanket off of me. “What are you grinning about?”

I shook my head. “I’m just hoping for a happy ending.”

Ryan gave a chuckle. “I’m about to give you more than one.” He covered my breast with his palm, stroking my nipple into a taut bud. “All I’ve been thinking about is you and your body. You’re unforgettable, Is.”

My cheeks warmed from both his words and his touch. “You’re pretty damn unforgettable yourself.” I reached a hand between us and reaching down so I could stroke the outside of his jeans. He was already fully hard. “I think you’ve ruined me for other guys.”

“Good,” he said vehemently. He bent down and kissed me, slowly this time, savoring.

We melded our mouths, tasting, reacquainting. It was different now. These kisses had intention, emotion. There was a history there and a future. A promise, a commitment. They were sweet and sexy kisses, his broad body held over me by those muscular arms. I slid my hand up his cheek, scratching the hairs there. He needed to shave. He needed my touch. I knew it in the way he turned into it, the way he let me cup his cheek, the way his eyes briefly shuttered, before he kissed the inside of my wrist.

If his job was to protect me, mine was to love him.

It was that simple.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured. “My sugar.”

My heart felt like it was being squeezed. I wanted to remember this moment, even more than the first time. He was all here with me this time and it was in his eyes, in the gentle awe of his touch, in the soft words he whispered into my ear. He nuzzled my neck, teasing my nipples, and my body felt heavy, the ache between my thighs growing. We kissed for an eternity, until our lips were damp and swollen and his hips rocked against me with increasing urgency. At some point he stripped off his shirt and briefly pressed his bare skin against mine, before descending down the length of my stomach, trailing with his tongue, and making me squirm. His finger found its way inside me and I sighed at the pleasure of him stroking through the damp arousal.

I expected him to tease me, draw it out, go down on me. But he didn’t. A few seconds later he had his pants off and he was inside me.

It definitely felt different this time. He slid in easier, without so much strain and coaxing. It was like my body knew what to expect and wanted some of that. I dug my nails into his biceps and cried out at the agonizing pleasure. “Ryan.” Then I shocked both of us by coming, hard, barely two minutes into his rhythmic and slow strokes.

As I watched Isabel shatter beneath me, her eyes wide with desire and love for me, I knew I was never letting her out of my sight again. She was crazy enough to take all this mess on, and I was crazy enough to let her. She felt good, so goddamn good, her moist body opening for me, my dick harder than it had ever been. People always said that sex was better when you loved someone and I had always figured that was a bunch of bullshit made up to sell greeting cards.

But there was truth to it. It wasn’t just physical when I touched Is, it was emotional too. Me, the dude with the broken nose and the fucked up family, felt like glass when I was with her. She could poke me in the eye and I wouldn’t care. Was that love? Probably. But Isabel would never poke me in the eye.

Funny how that worked.

Her orgasm was beautiful. It made her chest turn pink and her lips drift apart, soft sounds of pleasure falling from them. She had never been anything but open to me and I wanted to give her the same. I wasn’t sure if I could, but I was going to try.

She nodded then, as if she could read my mind. Goosebumps swept over my whole body. “Let go. Just come with me.”

For a second I thought about pulling out. Drawing out my anticipation and hers. But then I just wanted to give her what she wanted so I increased my pace, taking her so hard the headboard of my old bed banged the wall with enough force to send flakes of plaster drifting down onto the floor. Her nails dug deeper into my skin. Her heels bounced off my ass. Her eyes glazed over and her tiny pink tongue slipped out and moistened her bottom lip before she pulled it back in and sank her teeth down in ecstasy.

That did me in.

I shattered and for the first time ever, I fully let go. I gave her everything. All of me.

After a minute, I relaxed my arms and rested my sweaty forehead on hers, trying to suck in some air. “Am I still an asshole?” I asked, really damn glad I hadn’t walked out of the house the way I almost had.

“Yes.” She kissed me. “But you have all night to convince me otherwise.”

All night. In this bed. My old bed. Where I had grown up, lonely and angry. It seemed fitting she would break that pattern of sleeping alone, and here, of all places. It was right.

“Whatever it takes, sugar.” I fell on the bed and pulled her onto my chest.

She shrieked in surprise at the sudden movement. “Really? You’ll stay?”

I studied her beautiful face, running my hand over her silken strands of dark hair. They tumbled everywhere during sex and were in disarray now. God, I was a lucky motherfucker. “Really. I do love you, you know.”

“I love you too.” Isabel sighed and lay her head down on my chest. “Cue the music and fade out.”

Exactly.

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