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“Yeah, just us,” Geoffrey agreed with a smile. “But I’m taking a picture in case this is the closest I come to catching you all day.”
“Fair enough.”
They continued from hole to hole, conversation flowing easily between them as they shared random stories of school and family. The quartet of girls followed at a distance, but Geoffrey largely forgot about them until they finished the eighth hole. It was located in a swath of woods and the path from the pad to the green was a sharp hook that forced the golfer to throw blindly. Geoffrey had ended the hole by marching up and dropping his disc into the basket.
Geoffrey collapsed on a fallen log and accepted a bottle of water from Sven. He took a long drink and sighed. The shade from the trees was helping to protect from the overhead sun, but the breeze had stopped, making the air stifling.
“Don’t worry about it. That was a hard one.”
“Don’t patronize me, Mr. I Got It In Three,” Geoffrey grouched as he handed back the bottle of water.
“I know this course,” Sven said with a sheepish grin.
“Watch out!” a woman shouted as a Frisbee bounced off a tree and shot straight toward them. Sven and Geoffrey both dropped down to the dirt, but the Frisbee luckily landed several yards away from them.
The quarter of girls came around the corner to find them pushing back to their feet, brushing dried leaves from their clothes.
“Oh shit!” gasped the one that had asked to join their game. “Did we hit you?”
“No, we’re good,” Sven quickly said.
“I wish you had hit me. Put me out of my misery from this beating I’m suffering,” Geoffrey teased.
Sven put his hand on the back of Geoffrey’s neck, massaging sweaty skin. “You had one bad hole.”
“I can’t believe there’s such a thing as a ‘bad hole’ where you’re involved,” Geoffrey teased.
“And now we’re leaving,” he said. His voice was stern but his lips were twisting like he was trying to not smile.
“But I was still resting.”
“There’s a bench at the next hole.”
Grinning broadly, he turned and silently waved for the girls to accompany them. They had politely kept their distance, allowing him to spend time with Sven alone, but now he was in the mood for some mischief.
As they trudged up the hill to the start of the ninth hole, first names were exchanged and Sven became a little quieter as if he were drawing into his shell.
“So how do you guys know each other?” asked a pretty redhead named Jess.
“Work,” Geoffrey quickly said. “Sven’s a bodyguard and I met him while he was guarding a friend.” Of course, calling Ian Pierce a “friend” was a damn stretch, but he didn’t want to get into all the details of how he knew the powerful Lucas Vallois, Dr. Frost, and his close-knit family of friends.
Geoffrey plopped down on the middle of the bench while Jess dropped on one side of him and the brunette, Maggie, on the other side.
“I’ve met a few bouncers, but never an actual bodyguard,” Jess murmured.
“I can totally believe it,” Maggie said.
“All those muscles,” Geoffrey said, waving one hand from Sven’s feet to the top of his head. “He was born to protect people.”
Sven turned to look at him, and Geoffrey’s heart fluttered. There was such gratitude in his green eyes as if, for the first time in his life, Geoffrey had managed to say the absolutely perfect thing. But it was the truth. Everything about Sven was protective and nurturing. Those muscles could do horrible things and cause tremendous pain, but Geoffrey knew down in his soul that Sven was meant for only warmth, kindness, and love.
“Or he could be a model,” Shauna offered. “He could sell cologne or designer clothes, and I would so buy.”
Geoffrey lifted both his hands to frame Sven’s groin from his point of view. “Or speedos.”
All the girls immediately agreed, but Sven just glared at Geoffrey. “Are you still playing or are you just going to…to—”
“Ogle your ass?” he innocently supplied. “Can I do both?”
“No.”
Geoffrey groaned loudly as he pushed back to his feet and accepted a disc from Sven. “You pissed?” he whispered as he approached the pad.
“Not even a little,” Sven admitted, flashing him a grin that the girls couldn’t see.
“Good because I’m not done ogling.”
Geoffrey took his place on the pad and started to throw the disc when Sven replied, “Does that mean your ass is mine when we get home?”
The disc flew wildly off his fingers and straight into the woods, nowhere near the basket. Not that he noticed. His heart pounded and his dick throbbed in answer. Sven had spoken so low that he was sure that the girls had not heard the question, but he really didn’t give a shit.
“Are you serious?” he breathed.
“I’m tired of fighting this. I want you sprawled beneath me and begging. Or maybe in my lap, riding me, screaming my name. Now.”
