The Bodyguard's Temptress

Chapter 22

Knox

"Babygirl, open this fucking door," I growl, knocking softly. Her muffled sobs cut through me like a knife, carving a hole deep in my chest.

"Leave me alone," she sobs, her voice fragile and broken.

"Natasha!"

Panic surges through me. What the hell is she doing in there? I grab a drill from the tool bag in my closet and remove the doorknob in a matter of seconds. 

When I barge into the bathroom, she's huddled on the floor with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "Natasha," I demand softly, fighting to keep my voice steady. 

She doesn't look up. Instead, she keeps her face buried in her knees.  I want to scoop her up in my arms and make her feel better, but I'm trying to respect her boundaries after what just happened.

When I was on top of her, I saw the panic all over her face before she went into fight or flight mode and scratched the hell out of me. But I'm so proud of her for using her safe word. I know that took a lot of strength, a lot of trust in me that I would stop immediately. 

"Babygirl, please look at me," I plead, taking a cautious step towards her.

"Why? So you can reject me some more?" she mutters under her breath, and I can hear the pain hidden beneath her bratty remark. 

"What was that?" I ask, daring her to repeat herself.

She looks up and pouts, still refusing to look my way. "It doesn't matter. It's okay if you don't want to have sex with me at all anymore. I understand."

Fuck. On top of triggering her PTSD, I've hurt her feelings, shattered her confidence. 

I'm not sure how to navigate this. I don't want to approach her like she's a frightened animal, but I also don't want scare her anymore tonight. What if I'm making a mistake and giving her space when she doesn't want it?

On top of that, she still needs aftercare. I remember when she told Brandon about that random hookup, and how she felt ashamed and alone for her reaction. I won't let her feel that way with me.

I turn the faucet on the tub and start a hot bath for her. She doesn't look at me directly, but I can tell she's watching me from the corner of her eye. Once it is filled up, I climb into the tub, facing the same way she is we're sitting side by side.

"Hmm, I'm feeling lonely in here. Why don't you join me, babygirl?" I suggest softly. The way she's distancing herself and not touching me is killing me right now. I need her more than she knows. 

"Sure I won't ruin that too?"

I sigh heavily. "You didn't ruin anything tonight. If anything, it's Daddy's fault for not putting my foot down when I knew you weren't ready."

A long, torturous silence passes between us before she climbs into the tub and straddles my waist, burying her face in my chest. "I'm so sorry, Daddy." Her voice comes out as a muffled sob. I stroke her back, feeling the tremors wrack her body. 

"There's nothing to be sorry about," I reply softly, kissing her forehead. "I just think we need to take baby steps when it comes to missionary, and eventually we can work up to that again."

She sniffles, her breath warm against my skin. "I don't even know how you can still want to be with me after this," she whispers.

My heart sinks—how can she think that? There's nothing that could make me give up my obsession, my desperate fucking need to breathe the same air she does. 

"I'll always want to be with you."

No matter how selfish it is. 

After washing her, I lift her out of the tub and carry her back into the bedroom. Once I dry both of us off, I order for her to lay flat on her stomach on the bed. I grab a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and massage it into her skin from head to toe. It's a mistake because it ends up turning both of us on again. 

My cock twitches with every moan and arch of her back into my touch. "Fuck," I mutter under my breath as I massage her ass. We're not having sex again, not until I make sure she's okay. 

"Okay, I'm done. Lay down and get under the blanket." Her head raises, and her eyes immediately land on my dick. I can practically see the gears turning in her head, but I stop them before she gets the chance to convince me otherwise. "Natasha. Now." 

She obeys, and I crawl into bed beside her, grinning to myself when she lays her head on my chest. Her body molds into mine, the warmth of her spreading through me. After a long stretch of silence, I suspect that she's asleep, but I continue stroking her back, grounding myself. 

"Are you falling asleep, babygirl?" I murmur. 

"No. Just thinking," she replies softly, her breath a gentle whisper against my skin. 

"About?" 

I don't want her stuck inside her own head alone. I want to be in there with her, reassuring her that she means the fucking world to me.

She peeks up at me through her long eyelashes, her green eyes shimmering with emotion. I can tell she wants to say something, but instead, she bites her lip nervously. 

"You can ask me anything," I remind her, my fingers brushing a stray lock of her hair from her face. 

She studies me for a beat before speaking. "Well, tomorrow when you get a lead on whoever tried to abduct me, do you think you could let Evan visit us? I just don't like the idea of Brandon being here as practically a third wheel. I want him to be happy too."

I hum thoughtfully, considering her request. "Fine, only if there's solid proof he had nothing to do with it."

A smile brightens up her face, a beautiful contrast to the worry that had clouded her eyes moments before. "You mean it?"

"Of course. Now, go to sleep. I know you must be exhausted," I say, kissing the top of her head, feeling her relax to me once again. 

"Okay, Daddy." She snuggles closer to my chest, and within minutes, she's fast asleep. 

Suddenly, my phone rings in my nightstand, the shrill sound shattering the quiet. 

One of my burners. 

It's Andre. He must have just realized that I blocked him, and that his daughter has been off the grid for two days now. For all he knows, she could've been dead by now, and he's too busy snorting coke to fucking notice. 

Fury rolls through my veins, but I don't want to end up waking my babygirl up. 

He's such a pathetic piece of shit, though. 

I could answer, but instead, I let it ring, staring at the ceiling as the noise eventually dies away. 

I'll allow our bubble of bliss to be popped tomorrow, but tonight, I'll keep my focus on us.