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Psycho Romeo (Ward Security Book 1) by Jocelynn Drake, Rinda Elliott (11)

Chapter 11

 

“I didn’t tell the boss about you and Sven.”

Geoffrey’s head jerked up at Royce’s low-spoken words. Sven had been gone for barely more than two hours and he was feeling out of sorts. He’d worked out for a little while, taken a shower, and then sat down at his computer only to blankly stare at the screen. The code was just gibberish when his mind was consumed with Sven. He was worried he’d lose his job, or at the very least, Sven wouldn’t be allowed to be his bodyguard.

“What did you say?” Geoffrey asked, sitting up in his chair. Royce was standing in the open doorway, arms folded tightly over his chest, stretching the black T-shirt across muscular shoulders. He was sexy in a rough and grouchy sort of way, but even as Geoffrey thought it, he knew that the man didn’t hold a candle to Sven.

“I said that I didn’t tell Rowe about you and Sven. I figured that’s why you’ve been glaring at me.”

Geoffrey wanted to deny it, but he had been glaring at the bodyguard. It hadn’t occurred to him that Royce would tell Rowe about the kiss. Truthfully, the man didn’t seem the tattletale type. His issue was that there was a bodyguard in his house that wasn’t Sven.

And Royce lurked. Sven was a mountain of a man, but he at least felt protective and secure. Royce was like this heavy shadow that left him feeling cold.

Groaning, Geoffrey rubbed his hand over his face before shoving out of his chair. Maybe more coffee would help his brain function.

“There was nothing to tell. It was just a kiss,” he muttered as he stepped around Royce with his mug in hand.

“Whatever.”

“What the hell does that mean?” He stopped halfway across the living room and spun around.

Royce stepped close, towering over him. “It means don’t fuck with him. Sven’s a good guy. Don’t fucking use him for a good time and then toss him aside. He deserves better than that.” Royce continued to the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of coffee while Geoffrey stood there with his mouth hanging open.

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Just don’t fuck with him.”

Geoffrey opened his mouth to shout at the bodyguard to get the fuck out of his house when the doorbell rang. Snarling, he started for the door, but Royce was moving ahead of him.

“Stay,” he barked, his right hand on the butt of his gun stashed in the small of his back.

Geoffrey flipped him off, even though Royce couldn’t see it, and walked into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee. Or water. Fuck.…Was 10:45 a.m. too early to start drinking?

But all thoughts of a drink and Royce were forgotten when the low rumble of Sven’s rich baritone voice echoed down the hall. Geoffrey’s heart kicked into overdrive and he raced from the kitchen in time to see Royce turn down the hall to the guest room where Sven had been sleeping.

“Hey,” Sven said as Geoffrey skidded to a halt.

“What are you doing back here so soon? Did Rowe take you off my case? What happened?”

“No, Rowe didn’t take me off your case,” Sven said. He ran his hands down his hips as if he were searching for something to do with them and finally settled on shoving them into his pockets. He was wearing the same pair of jeans and black T-shirt he’d left in. His long hair was pulled back into a braid, but shorter strands around his face were loose and windblown as if he’d driven with all the windows down.

“So?” Geoffrey prodded when Sven clammed up again.

“I…” he drifted off and then stiffened when Royce returned, his overnight bag slung over one shoulder.

“Shout if you need me. Garrett’s not on a new case either.”

Sven grunted, slapping Royce on the shoulder as he passed. The other bodyguard gave Geoffrey one last warning look before he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He was definitely ready to have Royce out of his house and Sven back, but…

“I don’t understand. I thought today was your day off. Is Rowe punishing you?”

“What?” Sven stepped backward, his thick eyebrows meeting over his nose. “No. I just thought…you were uncomfortable with another bodyguard in your house so it was better if I came back.”

“Yeah, but what about your sister?”

“Called her on the drive over.”

“And…and your errands?”

Sven shrugged, looking a little more unsure. “I just needed to run a load of laundry. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind…” His voice trailed off and he just smiled at Geoffrey.

He couldn’t describe it, but Geoffrey was sure that nothing sounded more appealing, more like domestic bliss, than the idea of doing laundry with Sven. He’d never done anything domestic with a guy he’d been interested in. Never gone to the grocery, done the laundry, or even stood in a store debating the merits of different skillets. His whole life, all those things had felt like a soul-sucking chore, but standing there in hall with the sun just starting to peek through the heavy bank of clouds, he realized that all those little mundane things would feel less draining with someone else. And he really wanted to try them out with Sven.

“Yeah,” Geoffrey paused and cleared his throat, trying to get his voice back to sounding more nonchalant. “Yeah, no big deal.”

“Thanks.”

Geoffrey backpedaled, leading the way back into the kitchen, unsure of how to proceed next. A part of him wanted to jump on Sven and kiss him until they were both panting and desperate. But kissing had gotten Sven into trouble in the first place with his boss.

Royce’s words were also ringing in his head. He wasn’t fucking around with Sven. Maybe when the bodyguard had first captured his attention a year ago, it had been a sexual fascination, but spending time with Sven, watching him with other people, it became more than just wanting to have sex. He wanted to get to know the man behind all the muscles and the timid smile.

“Did you have breakfast already?” Geoffrey said, stopping by the fridge. He’d made himself a bowl of cereal, but he was more than happy to cook for Sven.

“Rowe’s boyfriend, Noah, made pancakes. They invited me to stay.”

Geoffrey’s shoulders slumped and he turned back to Sven. He tapped his fingers on the island’s marble, trying to think of something that he could do for Sven, something they could do together…at least for a little while.

“You don’t have to do anything for me. You can work or whatever. I’ll be here for you.”

Sven’s words warmed Geoffrey’s chest, leaving him rubbing his heart. “Yeah, but you’re giving up your day off. I feel like we should do something for you. What do you normally do on your day off?”

Looking away from Geoffrey, Sven shrugged his big shoulders. The island stood between them, but he traced his fingers along the natural designs in the smooth countertop. Geoffrey just had to reach a short distance across to hook his long, slender fingers around Sven’s larger, rough fingers.

“Not much. I work out. Spend time with my sister. Clean my apartment.”

Geoffrey chuckled and slid his fingers across the counter so that they were just inches away from Sven’s. “Come on. Day off, you’ve got to do something fun. What do you do for fun on your day off?”

Sven’s smile grew as he moved his fingers over the counter, they brushed against Geoffrey’s once, twice…before twining them together so that they were holding hands. Other than the kiss, it was one of the few times Sven had touched him willingly when it had nothing to do with keeping him safe.

Geoffrey wondered if he could forget how to breathe.

“I play Frisbee golf on Wednesday mornings when the weather is nice.”

“Really?” Geoffrey wrinkled his nose as he gazed up at Sven, his fingers tightening slightly. “I would never have expected that.”

“My oldest brother loves it and he used to drag me out because he hates playing alone. When I moved to Cincinnati, I discovered there are a lot of amazing courses around the city. I picked it up again just so I could get outside, but it also reminds me of all those afternoons with him.”

“Great! Let me get changed and we can go.” Geoffrey started to release Sven’s fingers, but Sven tightened his grip and pulled Geoffrey around to his side of the island as he tried to walk to the master bedroom.

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. I mean, you’ll have to teach me. I’ve tossed a Frisbee on the beach a few times, but I have a feeling this is more involved.”

“Just a little.”

Geoffrey was standing close enough to Sven that he had to tilt his head back to see him. “And you’ll teach me?”

“Of course.” His words had taken on a low rumble as he leaned down and gently kissed him. Geoffrey opened his mouth to deepen the kiss when Sven pulled away, frowning. He was about to ask Sven what was wrong when Sven grabbed him by his upper thighs and lifted him up so that he was seated on the island.

“Perfect,” Sven murmured, stepping between Geoffrey’s parted legs. Sven maintained absolute control of this kiss no matter how Geoffrey tried to push him for more. He slowly licked his way into Geoffrey’s mouth, exploring him with a thoroughness that left every nerve ending tingling and his cock aching.

“Or we could skip Frisbee golf,” Geoffrey offered breathlessly when Sven ended the kiss. “Stay home. Do something else that’ll make us sweaty and dirty.”

Sven pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. He helped him down off the counter, sliding his slender body down along Sven’s hard, rigid frame. He felt Sven’s hard dick brush against his own through his jeans and he swore softly. Would never have guessed Sven was an evil tease.

“Maybe later,” Sven said, releasing him and taking a step backward. “Go get changed. And don’t post this to your social media, okay?”

Geoffrey boldly adjusted himself in his jeans. Later was definitely going to happen. His cock might be arguing for now, but he was looking forward to spending a little time with Sven, pretending that someone wasn’t stalking him while learning more about the man that was starting to consume so much of his life.

 

 

 

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Geoffrey climbed out of Sven’s massive, snarling SUV and stretched his arms over his head. Sven had taken them to one of his favorite courses located in a Northern Kentucky park. From the parking lot on the top of a hill, he could easily see a series of rolling hills and dark, shadowed woods, offering a break from the summer heat. On the drive, the morning clouds had moved on, leaving the sun shining brightly overhead. In a couple of hours, the temperature would be creeping toward the nineties, but for now, there was a light breeze and the heat wasn’t too overpowering, giving them time enough to sneak in a game.

How well he was going to play was a different story and it had nothing to do with whether he could actually throw a disc. Sven had changed out of his jeans and T-shirt. He now wore a pair of khaki cargo shorts that showed off thick, muscular calves and wonderfully hairy legs that Geoffrey wanted to run his hands over. The T-shirt appeared to be an old Ward Security shirt that Sven had cut the sleeves off of, leaving overly large openings for his arms and damn easy access to his chest and back. Fuck, he was gorgeous and Geoffrey just wanted to run his hands over every inch of the man. But he was behaving…for now.

Sven slung a bag of discs and two water bottles plus the big, purple reusable bottle he preferred over his shoulder and started to cross the parking lot to the first concrete pad at the beginning of the Frisbee golf course. At a nearby picnic table sat four girls in short shorts and tank tops, typing away on their phones…until Sven approached. Geoffrey watched as one spotted him and they all perked up, eyes following the mountain of a man with ill-concealed lust. On the table next to them were bags of discs and water bottles as if they were planning to play as well, but they hadn’t made a move until Sven appeared.

“Do you play the same time every week?” Geoffrey asked, picking up his pace so that he was walking next to Sven.

Sven gave a little shrug. “About the same time.”

“Same course?”

“Usually. This course is one of the few with twenty-four holes and it’s got some of my favorite set-ups.”

Geoffrey stopped hard. “Twenty-four? I thought this was like golf. Eighteen holes.”

Sven turned back and smiled. He put a hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder, pulling him along a bit. “Yeah, but I skip a few. We’re shooting eighteen at most today. Probably fewer if you get tired.”

“Oh, I can last just as long as you, big guy. Bring it on.”

Sven laughed and the sound was lighter and louder than he’d heard from him in the past. “We’ll see.”

“Hey, Sven!” called one of the girls from the picnic table.

Sven silently waved at them as he walked past, his attention on the discs in his bag as he dug for the driver. During the ride over, Sven had given Geoffrey detailed descriptions of the driver, mid-range, and putter discs—the different materials, weights, designs, and when to use one over the other—so that before they even arrived at the park, Geoffrey already knew more about disc golf than he’d ever planned to. But he couldn’t help but be drawn in by Sven’s passion for the sport.

“Can we join you today?” the same girl called. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and she wore a bright pink top.

“Not today. I’ve got a friend with me.”

Geoffrey could not stop the biggest grin from spreading across his face. Sven could have easily invited the girls to join them, but Sven just wanted him as company and that felt so damn good.

Holding out a driver, Sven turned back to him. “You want to go first?”

“Nope. You go first. Show me how it’s done.”

The bodyguard gave a little shake of his head before putting the bag down on the back edge of the pad. He stopped and stretched his arms high over his head, twisted at the waist, then brought up one leg and then the other before bending at the waist to touch the ground. Geoffrey stood back, watching the way the cargo shorts hugged his perfect ass, barely holding back a whimper. Sven was trying to kill him.

Glancing over, he saw his own pained expression mirrored in the girls who were closely watching Sven. Those girls had zero interest in playing Frisbee golf. He was willing to put money down on the fact that Sven had developed his own fan club that showed up every Wednesday to watch him play.

He was also willing to bet that Sven was utterly oblivious to why they were really there.

With the disc in his right hand, Sven lined up for the shot, going through the motion once…twice…muscles bunched and tensed before Sven exploded with energy. His large body was all graceful lines and power as the Frisbee shot like a red blur from his hand and cut through the air toward the distant metal basket a few hundred yards away at the bottom of the hill.

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous!” Geoffrey said before he could stop himself. To hell with behaving. He just couldn’t do it any longer. Not when he was faced with such awesome power and finesse.

Sven rolled his eyes and motioned for Geoffrey to approach the concrete pad for his turn.

“No, I’m serious. That was amazing. I can just watch you do that for all the holes.” He glanced over at the picnic tables to find some of the girls nodding.

“You said you wanted to learn.”

Accepting the disc from Sven, Geoffrey allowed the larger man to position him on the pad and instruct him how to hold the disc. The words were largely going in one ear and out the other as Sven’s hands burned through him where they touched.

“Are you listening?” Sven asked, his beard brushing against the top of Geoffrey’s head. There was amusement dancing in his words.

“Every word.”

Sven snorted skeptically.

“I’m also thinking about all the places you could put your hands,” Geoffrey continued in a low voice.

“Throw the damn disc,” Sven commanded in a low growl while at the same time one hand drifted down from his shoulder to squeeze his waist before he stepped back.

Trying to pull himself together enough to throw, Geoffrey followed Sven’s instructions as best he could and threw the disc. He frowned as it traveled only half the distance as Sven’s and went wildly to the right. “What the hell?”

“It’s the way you tilted the disc when you threw it. Easily fixed,” Sven said as he shouldered the bag. He headed down the hill and Geoffrey jogged to catch up. He glanced over his shoulder to see the girls on the picnic table getting up and slowly approaching the concrete pad. They were going to follow and Geoffrey couldn’t blame them.

As they reached Geoffrey’s disc, Sven patiently explained where he’d gone wrong with his throw, corrected his stance. This time, Geoffrey focused on following Sven’s instructions as closely as possible and was rewarded with the disc going in the right direction and landing just a few feet away from the metal basket.

“Yes!” Sven shouted, throwing his arms up in the air. “That was perfect!”

Geoffrey had never been big on sports. He’d grown up the little guy. Skinny, asthmatic, and small, he was always overlooked and the last to be picked, so he’d turned to computers. But with Sven there to teach him and cheer him, he thought that he could actually be pretty good at this, that he’d be happy to learn it so that he could walk through this beautiful park with its rolling hills and deep green woods with Sven. That it would be their time. Their thing.

He walked with Sven to where his disc lay in the grass. He put it in the bag and switched out to a mid-range disc. With careful aim and a little less power, Sven easily got the flight of the disc to end with a loud clang as it hit the chains hanging from the top of the basket. A birdie on the first hole.

“Do you remember what it was like to live in Norway?” Geoffrey asked, leading the way over to his disc. He handed over the driver to Sven and accepted the smaller putter of bright orange plastic. He took careful aim and was pleased when the chains hanging down to catch the discs clanged on impact.

“Not really.” Sven shrugged and picked up both the discs from the basket. He put them away in his bag and then led the way to the second hole. “Just bits and pieces. Flashes of school and the house we lived in mostly.”

“Was it hard to learn English?”

“Not really. I was a little slow to pick it up. My accent was horrible. Both my parents were fluent and they started teaching my sister and me at an early age. My older brothers had more trouble because they didn’t get the same early start.”

Geoffrey shoved his hand through his hair, wiping away some of the sweat that had started to accumulate at his temple. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like. Packing up everything and moving to a new country when you were a kid. New language. New culture. New rules. All of it so weird.”

Sven stopped on the concrete pad, his hand in his bag, but his head was cocked to the side as he looked at Geoffrey. “Frustrating, mostly. Things would be different and my parents couldn’t really explain why. Just that it was how they did things here. You get overwhelmed because everything feels strange. But my parents made sure to keep some things from our home. They wanted us to adapt to our new life in Michigan and accept it, but without losing our homeland.”

“A mix of new and old.”

“Exactly.” Sven took aim and threw his disc, getting it to cut through the air so that it dropped just a dozen yards away from the basket.

Geoffrey took the disc that Sven selected from him—this one a bright neon green with a slightly different lip along the interior edge that allowed him to get a better grip. He took aim and paused as Sven corrected his stance and hold. When Geoffrey released the disc, he held his breath, watching it carve through the air along a similar path to land just a few feet behind Sven’s.

Jumping in the air, he shouted and cheered, not caring if he looked like an idiot in the process. Sven was laughing and that was all that mattered.

“Look at that!” He pointed at the bright green disc in the dark grass. “I’m catching up to you!” He pulled out his phone to take a picture as they walked closer, but Sven put his hand over the phone.

“No social media today. It’s safer. Plus, I…I just want this to be us.”

It wasn’t until Sven had said the words that Geoffrey realized he hadn’t made a post in hours. Not to announce what he was doing, what he was wearing, or who he was with. Nothing. And he liked it. He liked that it was just them and the rest of the world wasn’t watching and commenting.

“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.”

Geoffrey opened his mouth to answer, but his mouth had gone dry and there wasn’t a clear thought in his head. He licked his lips and Sven lunged forward, capturing his mouth in a quick, brutal kiss that scattered the last of his thoughts to the wind but one…

“Let’s go,” he croaked when Sven released him.

Not hesitating, Sven bent down and dropped Geoffrey over his shoulder while placing the disc bag over the other. Geoffrey let out a surprised “Eep!” at the sudden change but then just laughed as Sven wordlessly marched them across the open field, back in the direction of the parking lot. He waved toward the girls who were watching them with stunned expressions.

As they walked away, he could have sworn he heard one of them ask, “Does this mean Sven’s gay?” but he never heard the answer.

Poor Sven was likely to find that he didn’t have a fan club waiting on him next time he played, but that was fine with Geoffrey. Sven was his at long last. His more immediate concern was how the hell he was going to survive the half-hour drive back to his place.