Bodyguard by Melanie Shawn

53

Savannah

My heart racedin my chest as Gage pressed his lips to mine. I couldn’t believe what he had just said to me. It was like he had taken everything that was in my heart and translated it into words.

But what was even better was that he was describing his feelings. Not mine.

After all of these years of unfulfilled longing, it felt too good to be true to think that Gage might still feel the same way, just like I did.

But he did. He had just said that he did. And that was the most amazing thing I could imagine.

He leaned in further, and I reclined back on the bed, sliding my fingers around his waist to press my palms flat against his back and pull him down with me.

I wanted to feel the weight of him on top of me, pressed against me, moving against my skin. It was almost too much to bear that he was this close to me, but not as close as I wanted him to be. Needed him to be.

I wanted us to be as close as two human beings could possibly get. Not just body. Also heart. Also soul.

I wanted us to intertwine. I wanted us to be so intermingled that we couldn't tell where one person left off and the other began. I wanted him on top of me, yes. But I also wanted him around me, and inside me. I wanted him to be part of me, just like I wanted to be part of him.

He slid his strong arms around me, crushing me to his chest.

I scrambled to pull off the tank top I was wearing. My fingers were trembling with lust, and I couldn't seem to grab a hold of the hem. It kept slipping right out of my grasp just as I tried to yank the fabric up and over my head.

Damn it! It was like the tank top had a mind of its own. And that mind was a real cock blocker.

Or, ya know. Coochie blocker, as the case may be.

Gage slid his strong capable hand up under the tank top, running his palm all the way up my belly and taking my breast firmly in his grasp. His forehead collapsed to my shoulder and he groaned from deep in his chest. “Damn, you feel good,” he moaned, and my pussy clenched at his words. I was even more desperate than I had been before to feel him against me with nothing in between us. Nothing to block the heat of his skin against mine.

I threaded my fingers through his hair and tilted my head up until my lips were pressed against his ear. “Undress me, Gage,” I whispered. “Take my clothes off. Please. I need to feel you. I need to be with you. Really with you. I need to be naked with you.”

He groaned again, but didn’t reply except for immediately sitting up and stripping the tank top off of my body. He whipped it off smoothly, in one fluid motion, like a magician yanking a table cloth out from under carefully-arranged place settings.

My eyes widened. God, it was sexy, the way he handled my shirt so effortlessly. The same way he handled me—with assured and skilled hands.

It made me hungry to feel those hands all over me.

It wasn’t lost on me that in this, as in all things, Gage was coming to my rescue. Whether it was something as big as saving my life or as small as taking a tank top off of my body, he was my hero.

God. Yes. He was my hero.

He climbed up onto the bed, just on the other side of me, and bent down to kiss and lick my nipples, taking one at a time in his mouth, swirling and flicking them with the hard tip of his tongue.

I closed my eyes, did my best to just settle in and enjoy the experience. I wanted to savor every single second of this night. Every single movement, every single shared glance, every single touch, every single kiss, every single sensation. Every single emotion.

Even if I was only going to get to hold those things in my memory, and in my heart, for less than a day–if things tomorrow didn't go as we hoped–then I would hold them as tightly, treasure them as fiercely, as I possibly could.

Because Gage was my hero. And he deserved to be cherished, to be honored. It was my privilege to do so—and I was very clear on what a gigantic privilege that was, too, after having it denied to me for so long.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I love you so much.”

It felt urgent to say it in that moment. Like if I stayed quiet even an instant longer, the opportunity would be stolen from me, the same way so many other things had been. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Not ever again. I was taking every chance I was given, now—living life to the fullest.

Loving Gage to the fullest.

And if tonight was the last time I ever got to do that, well, that would be tragic. And unfair. But at least I would be able to die knowing that I had said everything that was in my heart, and so had he.