Page 138 of The Bodyguard Situation

The door closes behind us, and he sets me on my feet.

We’re smiles and laughs as he takes my hand in his. He twists the ring with his thumb; the cool metal against my skin feels like it belongs there, like my finger has always been waiting for him.

I glance down at it again as he leads me to the couch and stacks logs in the fireplace. The wood immediately catches, and the diamond sparkles. When I look at him, I know that he’s everything I’ve ever wanted and dreamed about. His smile hasn’t faded since I said yes.

Brody moves into the kitchen, and I watch him as he pours two fingers of whiskey into mismatched tumblers.

He joins me on the couch with a cute grin and hands me mine. He lifts his glass. “To forever.”

“And ever,” I add.

We clink our glasses together and drink, his eyes never fully leaving mine.

Brody isn’t just someone I love; he’s the man I chose. And tonight, under the stars, he chose me too. It’s the greatest feeling I’ve ever experienced—to love and be loved while also being seen.

I set my glass down on the coffee table and move closer to him. The tips of my fingers brush under his shirt, against his skin. His breath catches, just slightly, the space between us stretching thin.

“I wished for this life with you.”

His hand finds my waist, warm and steady. “Guess I’m proof wishes come true.”

“I forgot how much of a smart-ass you are, Calloway,” I joke.

He chuckles, then kisses me slower. His lips move against mine with the kind of hunger that isn’t about urgency but meaning. My fingers lightly trace across the hard lines of his stomach. I love the way his groans against my mouth sound.

He pulls me close until I’m straddling his lap, both of us breathless. His hands slide beneath the hem of my shirt, palms rubbing up my back.

“You’re going to be my wife,” he whispers, his mouth brushing the curve of my neck.

“I can’t wait.”

He kisses me again, and this time, there’s no holding back. My heart pounds so hard that I can feel it in my throat. He just proposed, and I said yes. His blue eyes are dark, hungry, and I can feel the bulge in his pants straining against the fabric, begging for my attention. My mouth waters as I think about having him for dessert.

I slide off him and drop to my knees on the carpet, my fingers trembling as I reach for his belt. The leather slides free with a hiss, and I can hear his breath hitch above me. My fingers fumble with the button of his jeans, and after I finally pop it open, the zipper comes down with a slow, zipping sound. His cock springs free, already hard as fucking steel, the thick vein running along the underside pulsing with every heartbeat.

“This cock is mine,” I whisper, my voice thick with lust.

“Then own it,” he quips.

“Plan on it,” I say, tilting my head, wrapping my hand around his shaft, feeling the heat radiating from him.

I lick my lips, leaning in closer, my breath ghosting over the swollen head, where pre-cum is already beading. The scent of him is intoxicating—musky, primal—and my eyelids flutter as I take him into my mouth.

My tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste of him. His groan is deep, nearly a growl, and it vibrates through me as I take him deeper, inch by inch. My lips stretch around his girth, my jaw aching in the best fucking way as I work him into my throat. His hands grip my hair, not guiding me, just holding on for dear life as I sink down until my nose brushes against his pelvis.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

I pull back, letting my tongue drag along the length of him before plunging back down, deeper this time. My throat opens up for him, swallowing him whole, and I can feel his cock twitch against my tongue as I suck him off like my life depends on it.

My hand joins in, stroking what my mouth can’t reach, twisting and tugging in rhythm with my head bobbing. Saliva drips from my lips, coating his dick in a slick wetness. The sound of my mouth working him is obscene. It’s wet, sloppy, and I can hear every fucking slurp, loving every guttural moan that escapes his lips.

“I’m so close,” he warns, his fingers tightening in my hair.

But I don’t stop. Ican’tstop. I want to taste him, feel him spilling down my throat.

My free hand slides into my panties, rubbing my clit, feeling the fabric already soaked with my arousal. The pressure builds as I suck him deeper, faster, my head bobbing until he’s fucking my face, his hips jerking with every thrust.

“I’m gonna …” he starts, but I cut him off by swallowing him whole again, letting his cock hit the back of my throat.

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