El Traficante received a five-million-dollar cash injection from the Century Investors group after delays in filming as well as added expenses from location changes caused yet another investor to back out.

“Did Paul tell you that Century was brought on board?” Rocco asked as he drove.

“No. What’s Century?”

“A big investing firm. Apparently all the publicity made them change their minds about putting their money behind it. They originally said no to the project, but now they’re in.”

“So two investors have pulled out because of the risk, but another one thinks the risk is a good thing?”

“Pretty much. Hollywood is weird that way. But Century is huge, so this will bring wider distribution. It’s a good thing,” he said.

“Great.” She looked over at him. “Why are you so bouncy?”

“I’m not bouncy,” he said, then asked, “Maserati?” He’d been naming cars at random in between conversations and she just laughed, but she couldn’t help but notice he was acting weird.

Was he nervous?

* * *

He parked his car in front of an older house in an older, but nice, Ft. Lauderdale neighborhood. He’d been naming random kinds of cars most of the way, just to hear the infectious laugh that came out of her mouth and to distract himself from the nervousness he was feeling.

She was so beautiful, especially looking relaxed and rested for once. It had been such a good afternoon, but now, meeting her family—it was new and unnerving.

Now they were at her childhood home and he felt unsettled, unsure why he had a lump in his throat or why he was so nervous. Was it because he’d never met the parents of a woman he was dating? Were they even dating?

It wasn’t that. It wasn’t about her. There was something that made him feel disconcerted and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

He stepped out of the car and looked around. All the homes in the neighborhood were different, not like the cookie-cutter communities that were popping up all over the place. The lawns were all manicured and had one or two sensible cars parked up front. No BMWs or Mercedes, but nothing run-down either. At her house there was a new model Honda Accord and a Toyota Camry. There was also a flagpole attached to the house, and on the light blue flag there was a sun with the word “summer” on it. He wondered if her mother changed the flag with every season.

Growing up in foster care, he’d always thought these kinds of homes and communities did not exist. But here he was, standing in front of one.

A small hand on his shoulder shook him out of his thoughts. “Rock? You okay?”

“Yes. Yes, sorry, I’m good,” he said as he finally began to walk. “Wait!” He rushed over to the small garden with two palm trees and a big terra cotta pot with some colorful flowers and kneeled down. “Is that a garden gnome?”

“Uh . . . yeah, why?” She hunched down next to him. “You’ve never seen a garden gnome? I’m sure there’s another one around here, maybe even a tacky pinwheel too.”

Wow. He was having some sort of out-of-body epiphany.

This was the house of his dreams and he’d yet to step foot inside of it. Loneliness, the real kind. That was what he was feeling. The kind that grabs hold of you and sucks deep at your marrow. Ironic, that a man who was always around people—crowds of people—could feel lonely.

Besides Paul he didn’t have anyone in his life who cared for him. Everyone wanted his money or fame. No one just wanted Rocco.

The realization hit him hard, sucking the air out from his lungs like a punch right to the gut. There, on a quiet little neighborhood in suburbia, staring at a chipped garden gnome, he realized what a lonely existence he had. No family and no real friends, except Paul.

“Hey, hey. You okay?” She moved quickly in front of him. For a moment she seemed hesitant, bringing her hand up and then back down. But eventually she placed it right where he needed it, cupping his face and looking him straight in the eyes, concern and uncertainty etched on her face. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

He swallowed, unable to voice anything.

And even if he had the ability, how could he voice it? What kind of pussy would he be?

Oh . . . badass ninja woman, don’t mind me, I’ve just realized that my constant state of unhappiness stems from loneliness. Please, hold me.

So instead he looked into her eyes, searching for some sort of understanding. Empathy. Something. Her eyes were just as intense as his, and then once again . . . proving that she was a mind reader . . . she did what he needed her to do. She leaned forward and kissed the corner of his lips. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or whether she had bad aim and meant to catch his cheek, but it didn’t matter. She stood, extended her hand to his, and helped him to his feet. Once he was up, she again surprised him by wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her head in his chest, and hugging him.

When was the last time someone hugged him?

Never?

He searched his memory files and nope . . . never. He had never had a single hug in his life. And the thought made his throat close up. She grabbed one of his arms that were still limply by his side and wrapped it around her body. Directing him. Teaching him how to hug.

What the hell was happening? They were laughing and being silly not five minutes ago. Now he was having a full-blown panic attack.

She tightened her grip and then he did the same, resting his chin on her head, as she moved her hand up and down his back, soothingly.

After a while of just standing there, she finally looked up.

“Better?”

Was he better?

He looked back down at the gnome, then at the woman in his arms. He kissed her temple and then blew out a big breath. “Yes.”

“Sometimes a hug is all you need.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he mumbled underneath his breath, just as the front door swung open. “Can we forget this just happened?”

She shook her head and gave him a wink. “Probably not.”

“There’s no fucking paparazzi around. So if you tell me this is you pretending to be his girlfriend, I’m calling fucking bullshit on that!” Joey yelled from the front door.

“First of all, don’t yell at me!” she said, hopping up the steps, her hands on her waist. “And second of all, stop cursing at me, fuckhead.”

Joey rolled his eyes, kissed his sister’s cheek, and then moved out of the way for her to step inside. “You may be a client, but she’s my baby sister. I will rip out your balls and feed them to you if you so much as touch her again.”

Well, that lightened the mood. “I guess the professionalism is over once I signed on the dotted line.”

“You didn’t sign dick. It was your studio that signed. And as long as you keep shit professional with Annie, I’ll keep shit professional with you.”

“She doesn’t need you to look out for her, you know? She’s strong and smart. She’s got her life together.”

“You’ve known her for five minutes. I’ve known her all her life.” Even though Joey had his arms crossed over his chest in a display of male bravado, he also had a bit of a smirk. He was just being an overprotective brother giving her date a hard time.

Rocco hoped that was all it was.

He wanted to tell him how he was falling in love with her and would never do anything to hurt her. In fact he wanted to put her in a protective bubble and make sure she was never harmed or worried about anything. He just wanted to take care of her. But, alas, that wasn’t something he wanted to share with her brother or share with anyone for that matter. Not until he told her how he felt. And not when he wasn’t sure whether Joey wanted to strangle him or invite him in for a beer.

Joey moved forward and closed the door behind him. “I like you, Rock. You seem to be one of the good guys.”

“You’ve known me for five minutes.” He repeated the words. “And you tell me you’re going to kick my ass every time I see you.”

“You’re right. Like is too strong of a word. But the point is, I Googled you.” He added, just loud enough for him to hear, “and maybe hacked all your electronic devices.”

“What?”

He waved it off. “Because I don’t exactly hate you, I’m going to tell you something. You’re about to walk into a house with four men. Four armed military men who hate you already. She’s our baby sister and she’s been through a lot, so there’s nothing you can do to make them like you . . . except make her happy. Annie ran away from home when she was fourteen for two days just to see if she could survive in the everglades on her own, mostly because my dad was in Iraq and she’d seen a picture of him in a tent. At seventeen she paid three hundred bucks to get a fake ID so she could enlist. Luckily they saw right through it, and she had to wait another year. She has seen war and death. Shit you can’t even imagine.”

“I do know. She’s told me.”

“Wow. Okay, that surprises me.” Joey took a step back as if seeing him for the first time. He didn’t tell her brother that he knew more than even he did. It wasn’t his business, but he wanted to rub it in since he was being a jerk. But even as a jerk, he was looking out for his little sister, so he couldn’t blame him for that.

“She’s tough. I get it.”

“No, you’re not listening. She’s been through a lot. Too much. She may seem tough, but she’s sensitive. She’s breakable. You—you can break her.” Then he leaned in. “And if you do, I’ll break your face. Then I’ll let my brothers loose on you. Got it?”

“Got it,” Rocco said, thinking it though. The woman he’d gotten to know in the last week was not fragile. She had some soft spots, but her brother was underestimating how strong she really was.

She had a shell around her harder than cement. No, it wasn’t even a shell. It was a fortress, with a moat and fucking alligators in the water keeping anyone and everyone out. But he was going to scale that wall if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

Annie ran away from the window just as Rocco and Joey were about to walk inside.

What the hell had they been talking about?

And what the hell had happened to Rocco? It was as if he was falling apart right before her eyes. And it weirded her out, but it made her heart hurt for him.

She rushed over to the kitchen as soon as they walked in.

“Annie, honey. How are you?” Her mother smiled from the kitchen table, her hands full of dye.

“Aunt Annie!” Her two little nieces, Eric’s daughters, yelped at once when they turned their heads and saw her walking in.

“No!” Ruby, Eric’s wife, yelled. “Be careful, Annie. That icing won’t get off your clothes.” She stood between Annie and the kids, who were dripping blue icing down the linoleum floor.

“Are they baking cookies?” she heard Rocco ask from behind. Another look of complete fascination on his face.

God, had he never seen this before, either?

“Yeah, it’s tradition to make sugar cookies with icing when they’re here.”

“Oh my!” her mother gushed, as she wiped her hands, now stained blue, clean. “You must be Mr. Monroe. I’m a huge fan.”

“Please, call me Rocco,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Rocco Monroe is in our house,” her mother squealed.

“Ma,” Joey warned from behind. “Relax. He’s a client.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

The next few hours were chaos. The guys all sat around the television watching baseball while Ruby and Annie helped in the kitchen. Rocco seemed to be getting along with everyone, and every now and then she’d catch him watching her. Her brothers took about an hour to warm up to him. Eric and Leo kept drilling him about his relationship with Annie, and Will, always the more reasonable one, asked him all about the latest movie project.

“He’s smitten,” her mother whispered as they finished cleaning the dishes.

“You’re crazy.”

“You can’t fake the way he looks at you, honey.”

“Yep. I totally agree,” Ruby added. “Look at how he keeps tabs on where you are in the room. He pulled the chair out for you.”

“And did you notice when we ran out of cornbread, he gave her his. Even though he loved it. My cornbread’s the best.”

“That’s because he doesn’t think I eat enough solid food.”

“He’s right. But he’s also thoughtful. I like him.”

Annie leaned on the kitchen counter and looked out to the family room where the men were yelling and arguing with the television. As if he sensed her eyes on him, he turned his head and their eyes met and he gave her one of his genuine and sincere dimpled smiles that made her completely gooey. She had been so hesitant for so long to get too close to anyone, but the way she was feeling toward him, it wasn’t scary. It was new and exciting and she welcomed it.

He didn’t look away. His smile, his eyes, all of him was zoned in on her and her entire body tingled. She couldn’t wait to get home and be alone with him.

People called him charismatic. He said what was on his mind without filter or regret. It could be said that she was the same way. Quick to flip someone the finger or tell them off. But really, she wasn’t open. Not really. The things that ate away at her, no one knew about them. As far as everyone was concerned, she’d survived an attack, and that had left her rough around the edges. No one knew the sorrow she felt sometimes or the loneliness that often choked her. Made her unable to catch her breath. But that was her secret.

Rocco’s life was lived in a fishbowl, everyone watching, analyzing, and judging. A week ago, she’d have said he lived for it. He loved it, hammed it up for the camera. And since meeting her, he’d been an open book. Or so she thought. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

He volunteered privately, he lived a rather subdued lifestyle considering the amount of money he made. He had a beautiful house and an awesome car but it didn’t add up with his wealth. But the biggest red flag that maybe he wasn’t all he seemed to be, was the breakdown he’d had at her parent’s house. Something had happened. Something big and real. And she wasn’t sure how to approach it.

“Did you have fun? They’re a loud bunch,” she asked while he drove back to his house, one hand on the steering wheel and the other changing the radio station.

“It was great. But God, I’m stuffed.” He rubbed his stomach, then extended his arm to the back of her seat.

“Yeah, my mom overdoes it sometimes.”

“It was nice to see you eat.”

She laughed and elbowed him and he turned slightly with a sexy grin and winked at her. The damn dimple and the wink set the butterflies in her stomach on overdrive.

“You’ve seen me eat, you liar. Maybe not that much, but you’ve seen it.” She looked out the window. “I really liked going to the Boys and Girls Club this morning. The kids love you.”

“I love going there.”

“What did my brother say to you?”

“You mean brothers? When you weren’t looking they all said, in no uncertain terms, that if I hurt you they knew ways to have me killed where I’d suffer unimaginable pain.”

“Oh, they don’t have to worry. If you hurt me, I have creative ways to deal with it.” She picked up her foot, placed the heel of her sneaker on the leather seat, and pulled her jeans a little higher to reveal a scary-looking knife.

“Jesus, you’re lethal.”

The silence stretched for far too long and the question hung in the air. “You’re dying to ask me, aren’t you? Go ahead, ask.” He was facing forward and he wasn’t smiling any longer.

She turned her body toward him. “What happened to you earlier? Are you okay? I feel like I somehow broke you.”

He upshifted the car, and it bounced slightly as he went a little faster. “It’s really not a big dramatic story. I grew up in the foster care system, going from one house to another. I’m sure there’re many great foster parents, but I didn’t know any. I met Paul when we were twelve. Twelve-year-olds didn’t place easily, you know, not as cute and sweet as babies. So we were in a group home.”

“Like an orphanage?”

“Something like that.” He downshifted, slowing as he turned into a curve. “Got into trouble a lot. Nothing big, petty shit like stealing, smoking, things like that.”

“What happened to your parents?”

“Don’t know. I was left at a fire station when I was a baby.”

Her mouth fell open and she saw a twitch of his jaw so she cleared her throat and tried to pretend it didn’t hurt her heart to hear this. He didn’t want her pity, it seemed. “So, you and Paul were handsome little hooligans, huh?”

“Pretty much. Did terribly at school, mostly because we didn’t go. And that was mostly because we were tired. Fucking exhausted. We fought for cots, had to keep an eye out so our things didn’t get stolen. It’s hard to go to school when your belly hurts from hunger and you’re eyes can’t stay open long enough to hear about Shakespeare.”

“How’s this not on Wikipedia?”

“You searched me, huh?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t know everything about you. I didn’t just do Wikipedia, I checked the deep dark webs too.”

“You hacked into my shit, didn’t you?”

“A lady never hacks and tells.”

He chuckled and with the hand that was by her chair he playfully tugged her hair. “It’s no secret I was in the foster system. The details of it, that’s not something I talk about, and neither does Paul, so that’s the shit you won’t find.” They’d arrived at the house and he pressed the button for the gate. “So, one day at seventeen, a talent scout who happened to be at the mall where Paul and I were loitering, smoking a cigarette and acting foolish, saw me. Within a week he signed me. Within a month I landed a big campaign making more money from a few photographs than I’d ever seen in my life.”

“And Paul.”

“Paul’s my brother in every way that counts. He was with me when we were at our worst. If he scored food, he shared it. If he got into a good foster home, he made sure I snuck in through the window to sleep on the floor. When I was able to make rent on a small studio, he came to live with me. When I made something of a name for myself, I pulled strings to get him an internship at a big agency. It took some years, but once I was sure he knew what the hell he was doing, I dumped my agent, who was sucking me dry with shitty jobs and high commissions, and became his first big client.”

“That’s amazing, Rock. Seriously. I knew you guys were close, but . . .”

“That fucker makes as much as I do.” He laughed and shook his head, as if thinking back warmly on his friend. “Sometimes I can’t get him to lift a finger for me, he’s so busy. But there’s no one I trust more.”

“I’m glad you have that in your life,” she said. They were still sitting in his car.

“So, I freaked out today. It was overwhelming. I’ve never had a family dinner. Not ever. I’ve never . . . Shit . . .” He cleared his throat and stopped speaking. “We’re here.” The change of subject was jarring, as he stepped out of the car and she followed.

She practically jogged around the front of the car and stopped him before he disappeared inside the house. “Wait. Tell me. What were you going to say?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Then it should be easy to tell me.”

“It’s stupid and dumb and I’m a thirty-seven-year-old man, it’s . . . stupid.”

“I’m a twenty-seven-year-old virgin. I’ve never told anyone that and for some weird reason, I told you. You can tell me whatever it is, I won’t judge you.”

He looked up and then ran his palm down his face. “I’ve . . . I’ve never been hugged. I mean until today. That was, it was my first time.”

Of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing she had expected. She could see the sad little boy inside of him. The one who had never had affection or love. Her family was loud, overbearing, and annoying but she felt loved every single day of her life. And this poor man, who seemed to have everything, was missing the basic fundamental things that made a person who they were. It was staggering how good he’d turned out. It really could have gone a completely different way for him.

Without thinking she wrapped her arms around him. He was standing straight, his hands by his side, so it was awkward but she didn’t care. She moved in even closer and laid her cheek on his chest. “Now you’ve had two hugs. You’re a pro.”

“Fuck, Annie.” He released his arms from his sides and wrapped them around her. “What the hell is happening here? You’re supposed to be the cold bitchy bodyguard who I want to fuck for four months.”

“You don’t want to fuck me anymore?” She looked up at him.

“Hell, no,” he said without hesitation, and she jolted and tried to step back but he pressed closer to her. “Now I want to make sweet, slow love to you. I’ve never done that, I don’t think. And then to make it worse, I don’t think I’m worth it. You’ve held on to your virginity for so long, it should be with someone special. But fuck, baby, I want it to be me. And honestly, I don’t want to put a time limit on what we could have. I just . . . I just want to be with you, even if we’re not having sex. You’re screwing with my head.”

It was late and dark out and they were still in the garage. She needed to think. It had been an intense day. Too intense. “I have to do a sweep and lock up.”

He looked at her, and understanding showed on his face. She wasn’t ready yet. So he kissed her forehead and went upstairs to his room.

She was twenty-seven. She hadn’t held on to her virginity on purpose. It had just sort of happened. And now it was this big thing that scared her to death. It was mostly the unknown. When she was in her teens and early twenties, the men were on her playing field. Yes, she was inexperienced, but to a certain extent, so were they. Now, she was older and so was Rocco, and he had had plenty of experience. She didn’t want to disappoint him. Hell, after waiting this long, she didn’t want to be disappointed. She’d put so much unnecessary significance onto sex that it had left her scared. But she wasn’t backing out, she was just nervous. Rocco was sweet, and gorgeous, and he meant well. He may have been waxing poetic just now, but truthfully, she couldn’t imagine an affair with him lasting longer than four months. But she felt at peace with that fact because four months was better than nothing. But she liked him. A lot. He made her feel things she hadn’t felt in so many years. Maybe never, actually.

After locking everything and making sure the house was safe and the alarm was on, she went to the en suite in her room, took a quick shower, and got ready for bed.

But she didn’t want to be alone. She’d been alone for so damn long. And so had he.

Gathering her courage, she took a big deep breath and walked across the hall and slowly opened the door. He lay on the bed, his torso bare, an arm slung over his eyes. “Can I come in?

“If you do, Annie, I can’t promise I’ll let you out.” His voice thick and raspy, his arm still over his eyes.

She padded closer to the bed until she was right next to him. “I’m okay with that.”

He moved his hand, reached for her shirt, fisted it, and pulled her on top of him. “We don’t have—”

“I want to,” she interrupted him, and then slammed her mouth on his. “I’ve wanted to for a while now. And I want it to be you.”

“Why me?”

“You’re a good man. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I can’t get you out of my head. Even when you’re right next to me, I’m thinking about you,” he admitted. “I wanted you to come to me.”

“Well, here I am.”

“You’ve waited this long and I don’t want you to think this isn’t a big deal for me.”

“Rocco . . .” she whispered softly, then leaned down and kissed him, hard, unsure what words she could possibly say to convey the way she felt.

* * *

She was such a conundrum.

By far the most complicated woman he’d ever met.

He knew she was giving him a gift. Not just her virginity but her trust, her vulnerability. It was a side that only he got to see, and fuck, wasn’t that just the best gift he’d ever received. Her hand trembled slightly as she pressed her hands on his bare chest to keep her balance.

“You are so goddamn beautiful, Annabelle.”

She moved down and crushed his lips with hers. For someone so inexperienced, the woman could certainly kiss.

His tongue slid into her mouth, tasting the minty toothpaste. He smelled his soap on her skin. Words weren’t needed anymore, maybe it was an unspoken agreement or maybe they were both too nervous that the other would change their mind. Because hell, he was nervous too. More nervous than he’d ever been with a woman. It may as well have been his first time. Pushing one foot down the bed, he flipped them over softly and kneeled. Her big expressive eyes stared up at him as if he’d hung the moon.

She seemed unsure, and it was his turn to take the lead. She’d come to him, and that’s all he needed her to do. He slid his hands under her shirt, his palms against her warm soft skin. Moving up her rib cage and under her full breasts, his thumbs grazed her nipples which were puckering out. She arched into his touch as he continued to slide his palms up, taking her shirt with him on the way up. She sat up slightly and he helped pull it up from her head and then tossed it aside.

He tried not to think of her and other men, but he wondered how much of a virgin she was. Would this be the first time she’d be naked in front of a man? Had she ever been touched before? Had she ever touched a man? That thought made him see red for a second, but it quickly went away when he saw the softness in her eyes. And now he was scared. He wanted to make this right for her. Perfect. Memorable.

He wanted to make her his.

Still on his knees, he ran his hands down her lean torso, unable to look away but also wanting to close his eyes and lick from her neck to her toes until she was squirming underneath him. But he vowed to take his time even if he was worried he’d explode with need. He shifted lower on the bed and with his eyes never leaving hers he slipped his index fingers into the waistband of her white lacy boy - short - underwear - panty - things and began to slide them down her long legs. When she didn’t stop him he continued moving down until she was completely naked underneath him. A deep guttural groan escaped him when he saw just a strip of barely-there strawberry blond hair on her pelvis and everything else was bare and glistening.

She squirmed a little at his gaze, probably feeling uncomfortable, but he made it up to her by moving slowly back up her body, using the weight of his forearms to keep his weight off of her. Then he kissed her. It wasn’t rushed and frenzied, even though that’s what he wanted. It was a slow exploration of her mouth and tongue. Her palms rubbed up and down his back and when she started to undulate under him, he almost lost it.

Slowly he moved down. This time instead of touching her with his hands he kissed down her neck, across her collarbone, then into the valley between her breasts, pinching her left nipple and then moving his mouth to the right, looking up at her while he licked over the rosy puckered skin. When he’d had his fill, he switched to the other nipple. She had the most perfect tits. Just full enough to fill his hands.

Knowing that the first time would hurt, he wanted to make absolutely sure she was ready for him, so foreplay was going to last longer than his cock could possibly handle.

Moving lower still, his tongue sunk into her bellybutton teasingly, making her squirm and writhe until she was moaning incoherently. Then he moved even lower until he was right where he wanted to be. With his shoulders, he parted her thighs and got comfortable. “Let me see you, Annie. Open your legs for me.”

She covered her face, but he looked up and tsked at her, so she just looked down at him from in between those long lashes. He parted her wet lips with his thumb and forefinger and gently blew on her swollen clit, causing a little desperate mewl to come out of her mouth.

He latched on, sucking and licking and flicking his tongue, using all the tricks he knew until she was right there. On the precipice. And he wanted her to fall over. He needed her to come at least once and he wanted her to do it on his tongue. She tasted so good, he couldn’t get enough. He pushed a finger inside of her and then crooked it upwards, hitting her sweet spot while he used his tongue.

Her pussy tightened around his fingers like a vise and she yelled his name over and over, almost coming off the bed as she exploded on his mouth.

Still panting and squirming, he wasted no time in pushing his boxer briefs down, grabbing a condom from the side table, ripping it open and sliding it on.

It must’ve been half an hour since she said a single word, except for her screaming orgasm, but now—now—he needed her words.

“Let me inside, Annabelle.” It was a plea. He needed her to say the words.

“Yes, please. God, yes.”

“I don’t want it to hurt,” he said through gritted teeth, fisting his cock right by her entrance.

“I trust you, Rock. Do it, please.”

Slowly. Painfully slowly, he slid inside, looking at her face for signs of pain. She closed her eyes and he stopped for a moment giving her time to adjust. He widened her thighs further apart and rubbed her clit, trying to get her to focus on the pleasure rather than the pain as he moved further inside of her until he was seated balls deep.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned. “Are you okay?”

She swallowed and nodded her head a little frantically which meant she wasn’t okay. “I will be. Just move a little.”

He did. He rocked slowly in and out, moving his body down until they were bare chest to bare chest, their fingers intertwined and up over her head.

He’d never had sex like this. It was tender and intense and he didn’t know whether he was in pure bliss or in excruciating pain.

“I’m okay,” she said into his neck. “I swear. I’m okay. Let go, Rock.”

“Don’t worry about me. I want this to be good for you.”

“It is.” She kissed his neck. “It’s so good. But you need to let go, I’m not going to break.” She widened her legs and pushed up a little in an unsure movement that felt so fucking good, he couldn’t stop himself. He slid in and out, in slow long movements until he felt his spine tingle and his balls tighten against his body.

“Annie . . . baby . . . fuck . . .” He grunted until he couldn’t do anything but let go, just as she’d asked. Spilling everything inside of her, his heart, emotions he didn’t even know he had, possessiveness, a need to protect her, every single feeling converged in that moment as he collapsed on top of her.

* * *

Annie had watched her fair share of sappy rom coms and always rolled her eyes at the heroine who cried after sex as if it was some huge pivotal thing in her life. As if sex meant that much. She also always felt embarrassed for the woman—get your emotions under control and stop being a pussy, she always thought.

And here she was, lying under Rocco who was still on top of her, inside of her, and heaving for breath, and a damn tear slipped from her eye and she was having a hard time catching her breath.

What the fuck was going on? She refused to let him see her lose her shit.

“That was . . . wow.” He pushed himself off of her and then out of her. A twinge of pain made her cringe. It had hurt when he first pushed inside, like a burn, but after he had started to move, the pain transformed into pleasure. “Shit. Sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she said, avoiding his eyes and feeling very exposed—physically and emotionally.

He jogged to his bathroom, where she heard water running, then came back to the room. The condom was now gone, and it was also the first time she’d seen him completely naked. His dick, which she assumed would have softened after sex, was still jutting out impressively. His lean hard body and thick thighs were a sight. Reality was so much better than watching him in movies.

She yelped in surprise when he lifted her from the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Warm bath. It’ll help with . . . you know, the soreness.”

“Oh . . . uh . . . okay.” He gently put her into the bath and she had hoped he would join her, but instead he left the room. Not knowing where they stood or what to expect, she decided it wasn’t time to worry. She’d just lost her virginity. It was about damn time. And it was good. Great, actually. Probably not for him, but she had had an orgasm, which was more than she expected for the first time and it had been with a man she had grown to genuinely care for. Rocco had been kind and gentle and now she was soaking in a big-ass Jacuzzi. Yes, this was good. Definitely worth the wait.

She rested her head back and closed her eyes. “Take these.”

He had walked back in, still naked, and held two pills and a glass of water. “This is the second time you’ve given me drugs this weekend.”

He chuckled. “Just Advil. It should help.”

“It hurt when you lost your v-card, Monroe?” Her eyebrow shot up as she took the pills and downed them with the water.

“Ha. Ha. Next time, I’m going to fuck the smart-ass out of you.”

Next time? So there was going to be a next time, which meant it couldn’t have been that bad. She couldn’t help but smile.

He left the room again and she could hear some rummaging around going on in the bedroom but she ignored it as she soaked in the hot water. Finally he returned.

“Move up a little.” Once she did, he slid behind her. Moving her hair to the side, he placed small kisses on her shoulder. “How are you doing?”

“Good. Great, actually.”

“Any regrets?”

“None whatsoever.”

He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. It hadn’t occurred to her that maybe he’d be a little insecure or unsure. “Do you? Regret it, I mean.”

“Hell, no.” He continued to kiss her shoulder, his arms wrapped around her in a protective cocoon. “I was worried.”

“It hurt a little, but nothing to worry about.”

“Not about that. I noticed you got a little . . . emotional.”

Oh! Those stupid tears she had thought she’d gotten away with.

“It was nothing.”

“So the thing is, Annabelle, outside this house you can be the tough emotionless security guard you want to portray. But in here, especially when you’re in my room, when I’m inside of you, when we’re naked, you don’t have to be that person.”

She turned her body. “Just because my eyes leaked a little doesn’t mean I’m a pussy.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled. “Calm down, my little crazy Tiger. No one’s calling you a pussy. What I mean is, I know you’re all those things, but you’re also soft and feminine. You have a huge heart and a lot of feelings you keep bottled up. Maybe with me you can try to put the armor away or at least soften it. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

She shook her head with a smirk and turned back around. It had been a long time since she just relaxed. Let her guard down. Maybe with Rocco she could do that. “I’m not making any promises. But I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

“But—”

“I knew there’d be a but.”

“But when I’m outside this house working, you have to respect what I say. Security is my gig, and you have to trust my judgment.”

He kissed her one last time on the shoulder before stepping out of the tub. “I’m not making any promises. But I’ll try,” he said, repeating her words.

Once they were out of the tub and he’d wrapped a big fluffy towel around her, he said, “Sleep with me tonight?”

She nodded, a smile on her face. The first chink in her armor was out in display.

The second smile came when she’d noticed he’d changed the sheets while she’d been in the bath, not bothering to talk about it or embarrass her. She was sure they probably had some bloodstains and she didn’t want to witness that, as it would be awkward.

As soon as they got in bed, he gathered her close, kissed her forehead, and went right to sleep.

Tomorrow, filming would begin. She was curious to see if he’d live up to his side of the bargain when she went full-out bodyguard on him.