Goddess

“And you fucked me because you were only supposed to be keeping tabs on me, not protecting me?”

“I fucked you because my dick couldn’t resist the temptation. But yes, I wasn’t initially hired to protect you—only to watch you. When Arlo found you, those instructions escalated. I’m not privy to the specifics of their investigation, so we wait.”

“Does Rosalita know you’re this super badass undercover bodyguard?”

“I need another drink.” I chuckle. “No. And I’m not a bodyguard. As I said before, I’m a resource for the FBI to hide women who need refuge during their investigation. But if I was a bodyguard, it wouldn’t exactly be undercover if my mother knew.”

“Where does she think we disappeared to?”

“New York for my business.”

“But we’re not in New York, are we?”

“Nice try, sweetheart.” This is going nowhere fast. “Come on,” I say as I scoot back from my desk and stand.

“Where are we going?” she asks as she works to keep up with my stride.

“To let off some steam.”

We descend into the basement, where concrete and dividers flank us on both sides. In the distance, targets hang for us to take aim.

“An indoor gun range?”

“Yes. You’re pretty perceptive,” I tease. “Have you ever shot a gun?”

“No. Never.”

“Well, today you’ll learn. You need to be able to protect yourself.”

I spend the first half hour teaching her about the mechanisms of the Glock 19, its features, and most importantly, gun safety. After I’m satisfied she is educated enough, we move on to how to properly hold the gun, aim it, and about the recoil. Inhaling her fresh scent mixed with hints of strawberry, my dick stirs again. This whole lesson is meant to be a distraction.

“You know you just handed me a loaded weapon. What’s stopping me from shooting you and making my escape?” She grins.

“Well, for one, you’d be shooting your best odds for protection. And two, good luck getting past the rest of my fifteen men who have this estate surrounded.”

“Good thing for you, you can trust me,” she jokes. “But seriously, thank you for taking the time to teach me how to use a gun. Nobody has ever cared to.”

I bring the target within the beginner range. “In this world, you have to take your own initiatives, sweetheart. Never wait for a man or anyone to give you or teach you the essential things in life.”

I place the earmuffs over her ears to discourage more talking. I help her aim before stepping back and placing on my own earmuffs. She fires until her clip is empty, but only a few shots pierce the target.

We trade off, and I extend the range. She watches me fire every shot into the target's chest, and the last one is a head shot.

“Show-off,” she says after we both remove our earmuffs.

“Lots of practice,” I assure.

We spend the next two hours letting her practice. She’s slightly better than where she started but leaps and bounds from being able to actually hit a standing target consistently, let alone a moving target. We’ll keep working at it, but not tonight.

Her stomach growls, and that’s our cue to end today’s lesson.

“Do you cook?” I ask as I put everything away.

“I can cook some things. I’m no Martha Stewart, but I do okay. Are you trying to get me to cook for you?”

“Actually, the opposite. I thought you and I could make some of my famous spaghetti. I gave Hazel and Marisol the night off. Well, I need to hit the gym first, but then we can cook dinner.”

“I can handle that. Do your housekeepers live far from here?”

“They stay on the premises. We can’t have anyone coming and going. It increases the risk of being followed and weakening our barriers.”

“So all of your men stay here too?”

“Yes. For the most part, but they’re more skilled at evasion and not being followed. They leave only when necessary. We’re staying in a mansion, sweetheart. We’re not hurting for space.”

“Oh, I know that. I’m just thinking about how many people are being kept from their families because of me.”

This woman never stops amazing me—so considerate and kind. How in the hell did her father ever let her get mixed up with a guy like Arlo, let alone engaged?

“They’re getting compensated very well. It’s the life they chose to support their families. Now come. Let’s get you fed so your stomach can stop begging so loud.”

“Shut up.” She laughs, slapping my back as we head back upstairs.

Things are just so easy with her. I’ve never been this casual with a woman. It has always been about sex or leading up to sex. I actually enjoy her company and feel protective of her and not because I’m being compensated. I’ve muddled the professional boundaries once, and it’s getting increasingly harder not to obliterate them. I head toward the gym on the other side of the house while she heads back to her suite until it’s time to make dinner. Hopefully, pumping some iron will sate what I’d rather be pumping.