Cowboy Bodyguard: Brotherhood Protectors World

by KL Donn

  Monroe

  The thunder kept waking me up, and with each harsh boom, I grew more terrified. Of what I’m not exactly certain, but it felt ominous. So I ran for Shaw. I tried to be stealthy and unobtrusive, but as soon as I melted into his chest, his arms were around me. Comforting me. It felt as if he was waiting for me to join him.

  As the sun begins to peek through the curtains, the exhaustion I’ve been carrying around for years has dissipated, and it’s all because of the man holding me from behind. I didn’t wake up with night terrors, nor did I feel like I was crawling out of my skin.

  I slept.

  I recuperated.

  And now, I’m ready for the day. Whatever that entails.

  “You overthink when you should still be sleeping,” Shaw’s gravelly, sleep-filled voice mumbles into the back of my neck.

  “I’m sorry if I intruded.” I had wanted to be gone before he woke, but I should have known better. Especially with the way he continues to hold me, only he pulls me closer.

  “Don’t ever be sorry with me, darlin’. You can crawl into my bed any night.” Shaw moves, and my body slips backwards, so I’m staring up at him as he leans over me. Pushing my thighs apart with one of his own, Shaw settles between my legs. “In fact, for the future, I’m going to have to insist on you moving into my room.”

  “You are?” I squeak the words out.

  His wolfish grin makes my belly flutter, and my insides tremble. “Yeah. I’m not a fan of you not being in my arms at night anymore. I haven’t slept that well in a long damn time.”

  There are times when Shaw is so refreshingly honest with me, and I appreciate it so much. And then there are the times where that honesty is given to me, so I am truthful right back. This is one of those times.

  “Same here.” I watch him through thick lashes, and I can see he’s pleased with my answer. In a shocking turn of events, I lean forward and initiate a kiss.

  Shaw is quick to react. Pushing me further into the bed with one hand knotted in my hair and the other squeezing my hip, he doesn’t hesitate to take lead on my impulsive action. I can feel his length growing between my legs, and my hips lift without thought. Putting pressure where we both desperately seek it.

  Wrapping my arms around his back, I hold him tight to my chest, allowing our thudding hearts to beat down the steady accusations of all my failures in my head. Slowly, so flipping slowly, my mother’s voice is being drowned out by my own wishes and cravings.

  Dragging my nails down Shaw’s back as he steals the little breath I hold, my fingers slip beneath his boxers, and I squeeze the firm globes of his backside in my palms.

  I'd imagined that Shaw was built tough. Filled with a masculinity I’ve never noticed before. But to have it in the palm of my hands—literally—has my heart skipping a beat.

  Wanting, needing, hungering for him to lose his precious control with me. I don’t know where the thoughts come from, but they feel right. They’re the most real thing I’ve had the pleasure of imagining.

  “If we don’t stop now”—he pulls away, breathless—“I may not be able to later.”

  I open my mouth to beg him not to stop. I long for everything with him. But my logical mind kicks in to ask me if I’m ready to give myself to a man.

  The answer is as simple as it is complicated.

  “I’m a one time, forever kind of girl, Shaw.” I realize how little sense that makes. I sound contradictory.

  But he understands anyways. “I realize that.”

  “I have always dreamed of only giving myself to the man I would marry.” My voice cracks a little at the end because that dream came before I was turned into a Barbie doll. I haven’t thought about it in years, and if I’m being truthful, I don’t know how I feel anymore.

  “Knew that too.” His eyes soften. “Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want, Monroe.” I nod. “Come on, let’s hit the showers.” Shaw climbs off, gripping my hand and pulling me along behind him.

  “Together?” I gasp as we enter his bathroom. It’s functional, rustic in a way. The shower is huge. Rivalling some that I’ve seen in hotels.

  “Together.” He nods then turns on the water before coming back over to me and yanking my shirt up and over my head. I’m so shocked I don’t react. “Damn,” he groans as he hooks his thumbs in my shorts and drags them and my thong down my legs before removing his own clothing.

  Surprised, I can only follow along as he pulls me into the stall with him. Warm water caresses my back, and Shaw has his hands on my hips before lowering his head and pressing me against the cool tile wall.

  “I understand that you don’t know what you want yet, Monroe.” He whispers the words against my lips. “But I do. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here. Waiting and willing to give you everything your heart desires.”

  How can he be so sure?

  Monroe

  My time with Shaw seems to fly by. He’s methodical and calculated, and yet, he’s not. I can always see him planning out his next move before he makes it, and just when I think he’s going to do one thing, he does the opposite.

  Like now, it’s pouring rain outside, looking like it’s not going to let up, and because I was depressed about not being able to spend time with Marilyn as she cried into the sky, Shaw moved the outdoor umbrella and heater over to where I could sit with her in a lounge chair.

  She’s quiet as she watches me read an old mystery paperback from Shaw’s office, but she seems content. I know I am. Even now, I can feel the man's gaze watching me from the confines of his office. I haven’t gotten the courage to ask him what he does yet because I wasn’t sure that it was my business, but the more he hints at a future between us, the more curious I become.

  Ringing in my pocket draws my attention, and without looking at the call display, I answer. “Hello?”

  “Marilyn Monroe, it’s been days, and you haven’t even checked in with me. Could you be any more self-centered? I’ve spent my life making sure you have everything you could possibly need, and you couldn’t be bothered to let me know whether you were safe from that brute of a man?” I cringe at my mother’s voice.

  I hadn’t expected to hear from her. Especially after Shaw shut off all locations and tracking on my phone when I arrived, and she hadn’t called to complain about getting the boot from his ranch.

  “Hello, Mother. How are you?” I reply with what is expected because the words I want to expel are too cruel for me to say out loud to the woman who gave me life.

  “Angry, Marilyn. I am angry,” she huffs, and I can picture her with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of vodka in the other.

  “This was your idea.” I point out the obvious, and I can almost feel her getting ready to blow a gasket.

  “Listen, you ungrateful little bitch. I made you, and I can break you.”

  “Isn’t that what you’ve set out to do with this little stunt?” I’m as shocked as she is with the words I’m finding the courage to say. “You did hire someone to pretend to threaten and stalk me, didn’t you?” Now, more than ever, I believe it to be true. Even if it hurts my heart.

  “How could you say such a thing!” Her outrage doesn’t mask the truth. “That filthy cowboy is filling your head with all kinds of lies. I’m coming to get you.”

  “No, you’re not,” I groan. “I’m not coming back to California.”

  Silence greets my declaration, and I know I’m going to regret this. “Why, you snot-nosed brat, you damn well are. You have obligations and contracts to fulfill, and so help me, you’ll come willingly or by force.”

  That’s a threat I believe. Turning my head, I see Shaw storming his way over, and I know things are about to escalate. Instead, I turn the phone towards my face, peel off the bandage, and tear at the healing skin until it bleeds. Snapping a photo, I send it to her.

  “I’m not coming back, and you’ll see why. You’ve made it so I’ll scar my own body to avoid another moment in your presence, Mother. I’m done. I quit. You’
re fired. Whatever. But you and me? We’re no more.”

  Lifting the phone backwards, Shaw grabs it, and I stand, walking out into the rain, not wanting to hear how he lays into her. I’ll never understand the hatred my mother has towards me. She’s supposed to love me, cherish me. But I’m constantly treated as though I don’t matter, and for so many years of my life, I’ve tried to change it. To be good enough.

  But I’m not.

  And now I know, I never will be.

  It’s a truth I’m going to have to learn to live with. Even if I don’t know how.

  As Mari calls out, I feel her sorrow. The deep sense of loss of someone who was supposed to be a profound influence in your life is suffocating.

  Shaw

  As soon as Monroe’s cell rang, an alert set mine off. I cloned her phone when I shut the location and data off. I told myself it was to protect her, but it was more than that. It was the fascination I have with learning everything there is to know about her.

  When she googled me this morning, my chest expanded painfully with delight. She was searching out information about who I was before owning this ranch and what I do now.

  Watching Monroe sit in the rain, reading, and comforting my damn cow, you’d never know she was a pageant queen. From everything I have read about her online, she’s anticipated to become Miss America this year. After reading so many articles and fan comments, I don’t know how she handles the pressure. Until I remember watching the way she danced.

  She kept insisting that ballet wasn’t just a talent to her. Now, I recognize it as an escape. It’s her safe place.

  Noticing her back stiffen as her phone is held to her ear, I realize it’s her mother on the other end of the line. Quickly standing, I rush outside before the vile bitch can cause any more damage to her daughter's precarious emotional stability.

  As I approach Monroe, she knows I’m behind her and hands the phone to me before walking away. “What the fuck is your problem, bitch?” My temper won’t allow me to hold my tongue.

  “You!” she screeches, and I cringe at the noise. “You have turned her against me! I’ll show her and you! Marilyn is coming back home, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

  I snort. “Fucking try me. You’ve exploited and used Monroe for the very last time. When I’m finished with you, you won’t be going anywhere but prison. You can tell Alton the same fucking thing.” Hanging up, I shove the device into my pocket and stride over to Monroe.

  Gripping her shoulders, I don’t say a word, nor do I allow her to make a sound before I slam my lips over hers. I’ve found that when I’m kissing her, touching her, showing her exactly what she deserves, she isn’t so hard on herself.

  Dragging her as close to me as I can get her, I devour Monroe’s mouth. Swallowing her surprised gasp. Reveling in her inviting moan of excitement. I can’t get enough of this woman, and soon, I’m picking her up in my arms, completely drenched, and carrying her inside.

  I swore to her that I would wait, for as long as she needed, but I find that I have lied to her. I can’t. Hell, I don’t fucking want to. I want to bury myself inside her innocent little pussy and stay there forever.

  “Shaw.” She inhales my name as we’re forced to break apart or suffocate. Her delicate hands cup my jaw as I enter the house and head straight for the stairs, not stopping to remove my boots or our coats.

  Taking the steps two at a time, I bypass her door and slam mine shut once we’ve entered. I don’t say a thing. I know she’ll tell me no if she doesn’t want this as much as I do.

  Letting go of her legs, Monroe slides down my body until her feet hit the floor, and I shed my coat and shirt before tackling my boots. The sound of her jacket dropping on the rug causes me to look up and see she’s begun to strip off her own clothes.

  Forgetting my pants, I step forward, and instantly, our mouths clash again. My heart is ready to beat out of my chest, and I can’t stop the triumphant groan that breaks free as her nails dig into my back, drawing me closer to her.

  Helping her with her shirt and discarding her bra, I drop to my knees to pull off her shoes and then tackle her pants. As soon as I’ve got Monroe naked, I take her down to the bed. Not nearly as gentle as I would have liked either, but she doesn’t seem to mind that I can’t control myself.

  “Fuck,” I groan against her neck. “Monroe, tell me no now if you don’t want this. I’m only so strong anymore.” Her thighs part, and she doesn’t say a word.

  Standing, I make quick work of shedding my pants before ripping her thong off and falling between her thighs. Her scent, sweet honeysuckle and lilac, draws me in until my face is buried between her lips.

  Monroe’s hands brush through my hair, yanking on the strands as I lick and suck at her sweet nectar. I can feel her thighs trying to tighten around my head, so I press them flat against the bed. Opening her up for further exploration with my tongue.

  “Shaw, I can’t…” Her breath hitches and her body grows taught. Nibbling on the small bundle of nerves at her center, I don’t stop until she’s screaming and clawing at my shoulders, trying to pull me up.

  Gazing up her body, I see Monroe’s eyes on me as I take one last long lick up the middle of her pussy. Swallowing her juices, I crawl up her body, leaving small love bites as I go. My dick throbs fiercely between my legs, waiting for its turn to sink into her sinful core.

  “Tell me what you want, Monroe,” I moan into her ear, kissing along her neck. My dick has no trouble finding what it wants as I press against her sex. Humping slowly up and down her lips, mimicking what we both want.

  The air grows heavy with anticipation as Monroe whispers, “Make love to me, Shaw.”

  Monroe

  I’m on fire. I swear my body is an inferno I’m not ready to have extinguished. I have experimented with touching myself before, but nothing compares to Shaw’s forceful strokes. Nothing compares with the way he lapped between my legs and stole every ounce of pleasure from my body until I couldn’t breathe.

  “Anything you want, baby.” He grins like a wolf in response to my desperate plea.

  I’ve known from the first second he touched me that this was where Shaw and I would wind up. I was meant to be underneath this man. Meant to experience the finest of pleasures at his mercy.

  Shaw’s mouth descends upon me again as I feel the swollen head of his cock beginning to push at my entrance. “Relax for me, baby, or it’ll hurt more.” His groan is filled with the restraint I can feel in his muscles as he holds back.

  The pressure of his invasion is almost too much to bear, so I wrap my legs around his hips and pull him closer. The agony of Shaw ripping through my virginity isn’t nearly enough to make me beg him to stop. I want more.

  “More, Shaw, please. Give me more,” I plead with him, and the way he’s shaking above me, only shows how much he cares.

  ‘This is gonna be quicker than I fucking want.” He grunts with a slow thrust of his hips. His hands tighten painfully at my waist as he pistons in and out of my body.

  My own pleasure is gradually starting to build, and there’s a buzzing in my ears. Blood pulses through me with the swiftness of a freight train, and soon, I can feel my body tingling and stars dancing in my vision.

  Shaw moves faster, and the creaking of the bed as it rocks with us is loud in the room. “Oh fuck.” I feel his lips moving along my neck, and I shiver. “Fuck, your so fucking tight, Monroe.”

  The sensation in my belly begins to intensify, and soon, I feel weightless. Carefree. Absolute ecstasy. I never want it to stop.

  When he goes to pull away, I hold him tighter to me. “Monroe, baby, you have to let me pull out, or I’m going to come inside you.” I moan, not opposed to that idea. “You could get pregnant,” he tries again.

  Shocked at his words, my hold loosens just enough for him to slip free of my body, and instantaneously, I miss the way he fills me up. Staring down our bodies, I watch, utterly fascinated as Shaw’s hand works furiously up and down th
e girth of his cock until his seed begins to spill out onto my belly.

  As I suck in a sharp breath at the warmth and eroticism of the act, my body shakes with desire. “Goddamn, is that a beautiful sight.” My eyes shoot up to see what he’s looking at when I realize he’s staring at me.

  Covered in his essence. And I have to agree.

  Feeling bold, I swipe a finger through the warm liquid. His eyes are riveted to my digit as I bring it to my mouth to taste him.

  “Salty,” I murmur; he smirks.

  With a soft finger, Shaw brushes the hair off my face with an endearing look in his eyes. “You’re beautiful when you smile.” I turn crimson with his compliment because I know he truly means it. I’m complimented all the time, but it’s never meant as much to me as it does coming from his lips.

  Shaw

  We were given a brief reprieve from the rain for the rest of the afternoon and into the night, so I spent the evening showing Monroe around the entire ranch. Giving her more details on my dreams for when I’m able to be fully up and operational as a special needs ranch.

  Her eyes lit up with excitement, and I think that’s the moment I fell in love with Marilyn Monroe Kingsley. Without thought, Monroe happily chattered off ideas of what some of the kids might like, and much to my surprise—because she’s never been on a ranch before—they were solid notions.

  The suggestion to ensure there is a cheering stand, just like at a sponsored rodeo or horse show, was one I’d thought about but hadn’t solidified yet. Until she said it. It will be one I incorporate. The therapy wall was another I really liked. A wall wholly dedicated for the kids to draw and paint on. Giving visitors a better-suited atmosphere is something unique I haven’t seen in other facilities that I’ve toured.

  “You’re good at this stuff,” I murmur into her hair as she feeds another blade of grass to Mari.