Page 27 of Possessive Mafia Bodyguard

I can’t risk the men noticing me while they’re not watching the ship’s approach, so I make my way slowly to the containers stacked up at the rear of the dock and slip away unnoticed. I want to find the woman. Those men weren’t chasing her to shake her hand and congratulate her on a job well done; they were trying to stop her from whatever she was doing before she was noticed, and my gut is telling me that I’ll get more information from her than I will from anyone else on this dock.

I’m navigating the containers, checking the padlocks and the names on the sides, when a hand grabs my wrist and spins me around, pinning my body up against the rusty metal container behind me.

My free hand finds my gun and presses the barrel against my assailant’s chest, my finger already on the trigger.

“Whoa, don’t shoot.” I recognize the Irish accent before he backs off, both hands raised in the air in a gesture of surrender. His lazy grin follows, complete with dimples.

“Are you following me?”

“I could ask you the same question, Tamara.”

Fuck! Telling him my name was a big mistake, one that I should never have made.

“I don’t have time for this.” I lower my gun, but I don’t slide it back inside the holster. I don’t want him to think that I’m dropping my guard because we fucked earlier.

“For what?” He lowers his hands but has the sense not to come any closer.

Wanting to kiss him. Wanting to feel him inside me again, filling me up with his cock. Wanting to feel his tongue on my clit. All of the above.

My body has other ideas though. More of his cum oozes out from between my legs and I resist the urge to wipe my thighs. I don’t want him to know that I’m still carrying part of him around inside me, and I certainly don’t want him to know that I would take my clothes off and ask him to fuck me again right now if there wasn’t a dock buzzing with people behind the containers.

“I should go.” I turn around to walk away, but he stops me in my tracks.

“My name is Finn. Finn Twomey. I work for Aiden⁠—”

“Stop!” I cover my ears with both hands, the gun pointing towards the sky. “I don’t want to know who you are. I don’t want to know anything about you.”

“Why?” He steps closer, and I back away, maintaining the distance between us. “What are you afraid of, Tamara?”

“I’m not doing this. I have to find my sister.”

“I can help you.”

I look at him, and my heart skitters, because I can still feel him inside me, stretching my walls, the slow burn as he slides in and out of me. My pussy is aching for him, and I wish that I could turn it off, this want that I have no control over.

“I don’t want your help.”

“Whether you want it or not, I’m going to help you find her.”

“Why?” I narrow my eyes at him. “Why would you do that? What’s in it for you?”

He smiles again, and this time when he steps closer, I forget to move away because I can smell his citrussy cologne, and my pussy is reliving the first moment his tongue touched my clit.

“You.” He shrugs. “She’s your sister, and I know it would make you happy.”

“But…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” He takes another step towards me, and I can see the black flecks amongst the green of his irises. “You’ve got all of me, Tamara. You had me yesterday, before we⁠—”

“Don’t say it!” I interrupt him.

“I know you don’t want to let me in,” he continues anyway, “and I’m fine with that. I can be patient. I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. The only way you’re getting rid of me is if you put a bullet through my chest right here.”

He takes my hand and places it over his heart.

I can feel the steady beat against my palm. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. Matching my own heartbeat, and I know that I could never aim a loaded gun at him and pull the trigger. A sob builds somewhere low in my chest at the thought of watching him die.

“You don’t want to fuck me again…” He shrugs. “That’s fine too. I’ll wait forever for you. I’ll still be waiting for you when I take my dying breath.”