Page 38 of Spring Break with a Bodyguard
“No turning back,” I agree, feeling a sense of rightness settle over me that I’ve rarely experienced in my life.
The decision made, Javi sweeps me fully into his arms with effortless strength, as if I weigh nothing at all. “Bedroom?”
I point down the hallway, my heart racing as he carries me toward the only real privacy we’ve had since this all began. As we cross the threshold of my bedroom, the last light of day filtering through the curtains, I can’t help but think how different this feels from our previous encounters—no need to rush, no fear of discovery, just us and the night ahead.
Javi sets me gently on the edge of the bed, stepping back to look at me with an intensity that sends heat coursing through my veins. Slowly, deliberately, he begins to unbutton his shirt, eyes never leaving mine.
“Your turn,” he says, nodding toward my housekeeping uniform.
My fingers go to the buttons, oddly ceremonial, as if I’m shedding more than just a polyester-blend uniform. “It might need to be burned after this week.”
A smile tugs at his lips as he shrugs off his shirt, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and shoulders, marked here and there with scars—evidence of a life lived dangerously long before he met me. “I don’t know. I’ve grown fond of it.”
“Pervert,” I tease, the banter helping to ease the nervous flutter in my stomach as I undo the last button.
His laugh is warm, genuine. “Only for you.”
His words make my heart skip. This—the easy humor, the earnest connection—is something I’ve never experienced before. Previous relationships had been about status or convenience or mutual boredom, never this... whatever this is becoming.
As I slip the uniform top from my shoulders, Javi’s gaze darkens, his smile fading into something more primal. He kneels before me, tugging my panties down my legs with agonizing slowness. His hands, calloused from years serving our country, are surprisingly gentle as they skim over my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
I lift my hips to help him, my breath catching as he places a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice rough with desire as his hands stroke my thighs. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since that first day.”
“I thought you couldn’t stand me.”
He looks up, capturing my gaze with an intensity that makes my pulse race. His thumbs trace maddeningly slow circles on my inner thighs, skilled and deliberate. “I couldn’t stand how much I wanted you,” he says, each word heavy with truth. “Not when I should have been focused on keeping you safe.”
“And now?” I ask.
“Now,” he says, his voice low and gravelly, “keeping you safe is still my priority. But I think we can multitask.”
His eyes meet mine, dark with desire but still seeking permission and I nod, unable to form words as anticipation coils tightly in my core.
“Javi,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”
A slight smirk plays on his lips. “Please what, Miss Hollister?”
I reach for him, fingers tangling in his hair. “Please... everything.”
With a growl that sends shivers down my spine, Javi lowers his head again, this time between my thighs and I gasp the moment his tongue glides along my soaked slit. The sensation is overwhelming, and I cry out, my hips bucking involuntarily. Javi’s strong hands grip my thighs, holding me steady as he works me with his mouth, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick flicks that make me see stars.
I’ve never felt anything like this before—the intensity, the intimacy, the raw desire coursing through my veins. My fingers tighten in his hair as waves of pleasure build, threatening to overtake me. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, Javi slides two fingers inside me.
“Oh god,” I moan, my head falling back as the dual sensations overwhelm me. “Javi, I’m—I’m close.”
He hums against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body. His free hand slides up my stomach, pushing my bra out of the way to cup my breast, thumb circling my nipple in time with the movements of his tongue.
The combination of sensations is too much. With a cry that echoes through the room, I come undone, my body shuddering with pleasure as Javi works me through the aftershocks. As the intensity subsides, he places gentle kisses along my inner thighs, my stomach, slowly working his way up my body until we’re face to face.
I pull him to me, kissing him deeply, tasting myself on his lips. The intimacy of it, far from making me self-conscious, only heightens my desire for him. My hands roam his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath warm skin as he settles between my thighs.
“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” I murmur against his lips, my hands sliding down to the waistband of his pants.
Javi chuckles, the sound low and rich. “I think we can fix that,” he says, standing up to shed the rest of his clothing.
I take a moment to appreciate the sight of him, all lean muscle and tanned skin. My eyes are drawn to the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel, and lower still to his impressive erection, veins standing out against his taut skin. He’s a work of art, and for a moment I’m struck by the realization that this incredible man wants me.
