Page 116 of Unguarded

I grab my shaft and position myself behind her, groaning as the tip brushes her softness. She bends forward, placing her hands on the makeup counter facing the mirror. Once I’m in the right place, I shove myself all the way inside with one thrust. She gasps.

I start to move immediately. The sensations spreadthrough my entire body, igniting a desire in me to feel more of her, to pound her harder.

“I love seeing your face while I fuck you from behind.” I look at her in the mirror, her red lips parted, blue eyes wide as she takes it.

She always has a hard time being quiet, like she just can’t hold back the scream. She bites down on her lip, eyes rolling back. I can already feel myself getting closer to release even though it’s way too soon. She just looks so fucking gorgeous, tits bouncing, skin flushed for me. I can still taste her on my tongue.

“I know you wanna scream, baby. You can scream if you want to.” My hand comes up to wrap around her neck, squeezing just barely enough to let her know I’ve got her and I’m in control here.

She whimpers. “It feels so good.”

I use my other hand to find her clit, putting just enough pressure on it to make her come again. She lets out a scream, her release joining mine as we finish together. I lean against her, feeling the warmth of her body against mine for a few blissful moments, enjoying the subsiding waves of pleasure.

“We’re gonna need another round afterward so I can take my time with you.” I pepper her neck with kisses as I pull out, careful not to get anything on her dress.

I grab a towel left behind from the makeup artist to dry her off before letting her gown fall back into place. I pull my boxers and pants up, buckling the belt. She exhales, standing up straight. She looks at me in the mirror, both of us still breathing heavily.

“I’m gonna mess up those red lips later.”

She smiles shyly. “Okay, cowboy.”

Someone knocks on the door. “We need to leave in two minutes.”

I clear my throat. “Before we do that, I wanted to show you something.” I pull out my phone. There hasn’t felt like a good time to do this, but with the looming questions from the press about to swarm us, I need her to know about it now.

She looks down at my phone screen as I navigate to the news article I saw a few hours ago. She silently reads the headline.

Zade Byron, 32, arrested on prostitution and sex trafficking charges. Bond held at ten million dollars.

She swallows, eyes traveling up to meet mine. “Thank God,” she whispers.

She’s so strong all the time. I want her to know she can lean on me. That I’m here for her when things like this happen.

“If anyone asks about him tonight, let’s just say ‘no comment,’ huh?” I grab her hand.

She squeezes it and nods. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

The door to the suite opens. “It’s time!”

MONROE

He’s always believedin me. I love him for so many reasons, but him believing in me and never leaving my side are definitely in my top three, along with always keeping me safe and seeing the real Monroe Blue beneath the glamorous exterior and Grammy winnings. He’d want me if I was still the girl with a broken family living in South Texas who’d never set foot on a stage.

I’m not ashamed to admit that his ability to make me orgasm in less than ten minutes under pressure is on the list too.

Cash grips my hand tightly as we walk up to the house he had built for us on the ranch. The exterior is all natural stone and cedar, with big black-framed windows and high gables. It has four bedrooms and three and a half baths. The office is lined with wood-framed bookshelves. He even added a workout room with a sauna for me to do my home workouts in and stay in shape for when I go on tour again.

The front porch isn’t huge. It has a double door with windows on the upper half and enough space for two big rocking chairs on either side of the door. The interior designer who furnished the home selected beautiful outdoor cushions in a deep emerald color. Two eucalyptus wreaths decorate the eight-foot doors. I shiver in the winter cold, already anticipating the warm fire I know he’ll build for us in the hearth.

The back porch is where the real beauty is. I haven’t seen it since it was finally completed and furnished just days ago while we were at the Grammys, but it has a view of the valleyand the river below. It’s the most peaceful place on the planet.

As we’re climbing the stairs to the front porch, he turns to me and scoops me up like a baby. I laugh into his neck, wrapping my arms around him. He smells like cedar and leather and home. I inhale deeply, sighing with contentment as he twists the handle.

“Welcome home, Miss Blue,” he mumbles into my ear as he carries me over the threshold.

A gasp of awe escapes me at the sight. I’d seen the 3D mockup drawings of the furniture and the decor from the designer, but in person the rich leather seating, natural wood flooring, abundant greenery in potted plants, and deep mocha wall color feels like a cozy cabin in the woods. A very big, bougie cabin.

“Oh, baby, it’s just…breathtaking,” I say.

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