Chapter 11
ELEVEN
TEDDY
The ride to my townhouse passes in silence as Javi navigates evening traffic. I could have driven myself home in the loaner car, but when he saw my hands trembling as we left the hotel, he gently took my keys without a word.
The adrenaline from the confrontation with Roberts, the impromptu press conference, and Preston’s unexpected approval has finally caught up with me. My body feels like a live wire, humming with residual energy that has nowhere to go. But it’s not just the day’s events making my pulse race and my hands unsteady.
It’s the man beside me. The man who’s about to come home with me, with no assignment, no pretense, no professional barriers between us.
I steal glances at Javi’s profile as he drives—the strong line of his jaw, now relaxed without the tension of our mission; the focused intensity in his eyes as he scans the road with habitual vigilance; the slight curve of his lips that suggests he’s as aware of the shift between us as I am.
“What?” he asks, catching me staring.
“Nothing,” I say, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “Just... processing everything.”
A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth. “Quite a day.”
“Quite a week,” I correct, looking down at my wrinkled housekeeping uniform—the costume that somehow became more authentic than the polished persona I’d cultivated for years. “I still can’t believe Preston wasn’t furious.”
“He was,” Javi says, glancing at me. “He just values results over methods. Always has.”
We fall into silence again as he turns onto my street, the familiar buildings of my upscale neighborhood coming into view. After the chaos of The Sandpiper, there’s something surreal about returning to my regular life, as if the past eight days happened in another dimension.
Javi pulls into my private parking space, cutting the engine. For a moment, neither of us moves, the quiet of the car a bubble of anticipation neither wants to break.
“So,” I begin, my voice softer than intended, betraying my nervousness. “I guess this is where I thank you for your protection services, Commander Conrad?”
He turns to face me fully, his expression serious but with a warmth in his gaze I’m still getting used to seeing. “Is that what you want? For me to drop you off and resume our professional relationship on Monday?”
The question hangs between us, like a line drawn in the sand. The responsible answer would be yes. The answer that wouldn’t complicate both our lives and potentially jeopardize his career would be yes.
But being sensible is the last thing I want to be right now. “No,” I say, holding his gaze. “That’s not what I want at all.”
His eyes darken, and he nods once, a decisive movement that sends a flutter of anticipation through me. “Then I’ll see you inside.”
The walk from the car to my front door feels simultaneously too long and too short, each step charged with a growing awareness of each other. I’m conscious of his presence behind me—the reassuring sound of his footsteps, the faint scent of his cologne carried on the evening breeze, the distinct feeling of being both protected and desired.
My fingers fumble with the keys, suddenly clumsy with awareness of Javi standing close behind me, the heat of his body radiating in the cool evening air. I’ve opened this door countless times, but never with such expectation of what awaits on the other side.
When the door swings open, I step into the familiar space of my townhouse—all clean lines and designer furniture, tastefully neutral and perfectly impersonal. I’ve never noticed how sterile it feels until now, after the chaotic warmth of The Sandpiper.
“Welcome to my real world,” I say, suddenly self-conscious as Javi closes the door behind us, the soft click of the latch sounding unusually final in the quiet space.
He stands there for a moment, security instincts still engaged as he scans the room, checking windows, sightlines, potential threats—the habits of a protector not easily set aside.
“Clear,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
And then he looks at me—really looks at me—with an intensity that steals my breath. Eight days of enforced distance, of stolen moments in supply closets, of professional pretense and careful restraint—all of it seems to collapse in the space between one heartbeat and the next.
“Javi,” I start, not even sure what I mean to say, just needing to break the tension that’s building between us like an electrical storm.
He crosses the distance between us in two strides, one hand coming up to cup my face while the other slides around my waist, pulling me against him. The trembling in my hands spreads through my entire body, but it’s no longer from the stress of the day—it’s anticipation, desire, and the overwhelming relief of finally allowing ourselves this connection.
The kiss that follows is nothing like our tentative first connection on my couch, nothing like our hurried moments at the café or the supply closet. This is unleashed desire, the full force of everything we’ve been holding back, yet tempered with a surprising tenderness that makes my heart ache.
My arms wrap around his neck as I rise on tiptoes to meet him, my body melting against his solid warmth. His hand at my waist slides lower, lifting me effortlessly against him as he backs me toward the wall. I gasp against his mouth at the sensation of being so completely surrounded by him, my feet barely touching the ground.
“Too much?” he murmurs against my lips, ever attentive to boundaries even now.
A laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep inside me—part joy, part disbelief that this is happening. “Not enough,” I whisper back, fingers threading through his short hair to pull him closer.
A low sound rumbles in his chest as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that makes my knees weak. I’m grateful for the wall at my back, for his strong arms holding me up, because I’m not entirely sure I could stand on my own right now.
His lips leave mine to trail down my neck, finding a sensitive spot that makes me gasp. My hands move restlessly across his shoulders, down his back, feeling the controlled strength in every inch of him. When my fingers find the hem of his shirt, slipping beneath to touch warm skin, he groans against my throat.
“Teddy,” he says, my name sounding like both a question and a prayer. “We should slow down.”
But even as he says it, his hips press forward against mine, the evidence of his desire impossible to mistake. The contrast between his words and his body’s response makes me smile.
“Should we?” I ask, letting my nails scrape lightly down his back. “Haven’t we been taking it slow all this time?”
His forehead rests against mine, his breathing ragged. “I want to be sure. This isn’t just?—”
“I know,” I interrupt, bringing one hand up to touch his face, to make him look at me. “This isn’t just attraction or adrenaline or the thrill of breaking rules. This is us—Javi and Teddy—choosing each other. No assignments, no disguises, no audience.”
Something in his expression shifts, tension giving way to determination. “No turning back,” he adds, his voice rough.
“No turning back,” I agree, feeling a sense of rightness settle over me that I’ve rarely experienced in my life.
The decision made, Javi sweeps me fully into his arms with effortless strength, as if I weigh nothing at all. “Bedroom?”
I point down the hallway, my heart racing as he carries me toward the only real privacy we’ve had since this all began. As we cross the threshold of my bedroom, the last light of day filtering through the curtains, I can’t help but think how different this feels from our previous encounters—no need to rush, no fear of discovery, just us and the night ahead.
Javi sets me gently on the edge of the bed, stepping back to look at me with an intensity that sends heat coursing through my veins. Slowly, deliberately, he begins to unbutton his shirt, eyes never leaving mine.
“Your turn,” he says, nodding toward my housekeeping uniform.
My fingers go to the buttons, oddly ceremonial, as if I’m shedding more than just a polyester-blend uniform. “It might need to be burned after this week.”
A smile tugs at his lips as he shrugs off his shirt, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest and shoulders, marked here and there with scars—evidence of a life lived dangerously long before he met me. “I don’t know. I’ve grown fond of it.”
“Pervert,” I tease, the banter helping to ease the nervous flutter in my stomach as I undo the last button.
His laugh is warm, genuine. “Only for you.”
His words make my heart skip. This—the easy humor, the earnest connection—is something I’ve never experienced before. Previous relationships had been about status or convenience or mutual boredom, never this... whatever this is becoming.
As I slip the uniform top from my shoulders, Javi’s gaze darkens, his smile fading into something more primal. He kneels before me, tugging my panties down my legs with agonizing slowness. His hands, calloused from years serving our country, are surprisingly gentle as they skim over my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
I lift my hips to help him, my breath catching as he places a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice rough with desire as his hands stroke my thighs. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since that first day.”
“I thought you couldn’t stand me.”
He looks up, capturing my gaze with an intensity that makes my pulse race. His thumbs trace maddeningly slow circles on my inner thighs, skilled and deliberate. “I couldn’t stand how much I wanted you,” he says, each word heavy with truth. “Not when I should have been focused on keeping you safe.”
“And now?” I ask.
“Now,” he says, his voice low and gravelly, “keeping you safe is still my priority. But I think we can multitask.”
His eyes meet mine, dark with desire but still seeking permission and I nod, unable to form words as anticipation coils tightly in my core.
“Javi,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”
A slight smirk plays on his lips. “Please what, Miss Hollister?”
I reach for him, fingers tangling in his hair. “Please... everything.”
With a growl that sends shivers down my spine, Javi lowers his head again, this time between my thighs and I gasp the moment his tongue glides along my soaked slit. The sensation is overwhelming, and I cry out, my hips bucking involuntarily. Javi’s strong hands grip my thighs, holding me steady as he works me with his mouth, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick flicks that make me see stars.
I’ve never felt anything like this before—the intensity, the intimacy, the raw desire coursing through my veins. My fingers tighten in his hair as waves of pleasure build, threatening to overtake me. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, Javi slides two fingers inside me.
“Oh god,” I moan, my head falling back as the dual sensations overwhelm me. “Javi, I’m—I’m close.”
He hums against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body. His free hand slides up my stomach, pushing my bra out of the way to cup my breast, thumb circling my nipple in time with the movements of his tongue.
The combination of sensations is too much. With a cry that echoes through the room, I come undone, my body shuddering with pleasure as Javi works me through the aftershocks. As the intensity subsides, he places gentle kisses along my inner thighs, my stomach, slowly working his way up my body until we’re face to face.
I pull him to me, kissing him deeply, tasting myself on his lips. The intimacy of it, far from making me self-conscious, only heightens my desire for him. My hands roam his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath warm skin as he settles between my thighs.
“You’re still wearing too many clothes,” I murmur against his lips, my hands sliding down to the waistband of his pants.
Javi chuckles, the sound low and rich. “I think we can fix that,” he says, standing up to shed the rest of his clothing.
I take a moment to appreciate the sight of him, all lean muscle and tanned skin. My eyes are drawn to the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel, and lower still to his impressive erection, veins standing out against his taut skin. He’s a work of art, and for a moment I’m struck by the realization that this incredible man wants me.
Javi hisses through his teeth when I reach out to touch him, my fingers wrapping around his length, stroking him slowly. His eyes close for a moment, jaw clenching as he fights for control. When he looks at me again, the intensity in his gaze makes me shiver.
“Like what you see?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Very much,” I reply as he leans over me, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks as he pulls away to look at me.
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life, Javi,” I reply. “I want you. All of you.”
He reaches for his jeans, retrieving a condom from his wallet. He tears open the foil packet and rolls the condom on with practiced ease as anticipation thrums through me, a heady mix of desire and nervous excitement.
When he settles above me, his body a comforting weight, warm and solid against mine, there’s a pause, a moment of shared breath as he positions himself at my entrance and meets my gaze. The world narrows down to him, to the way he’s looking at me, and I feel a warmth blooming in my chest, spreading outward, encompassing everything.
Slowly, he pushes inside me, and I gasp at the stretch, the fullness, as he enters me inch by inch.
“God, Teddy,” Javi groans, his forehead pressed against mine. “You feel amazing.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him in deeper until he’s fully seated within me. For a moment, we stay like that, breathing heavily, adjusting to the sensation of being so intimately connected.
He begins to move, slow and deep at first, building a rhythm that has me clinging to his shoulders. Every thrust feels like it’s touching every nerve ending in my body, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me. I meet him thrust for thrust, our bodies moving together in perfect synchronicity.
“Javi,” I moan, my nails digging into his back as the pleasure builds. “Oh god, Javi...”
He captures my lips in a searing kiss, swallowing my cries as he increases his pace. One of his hands slides between us, his thumb finding my clit and circling it in time with his thrusts. The dual sensations are overwhelming, and I can feel myself rapidly approaching the edge. I can tell Javi is close too, his movements becoming more erratic, his breathing ragged against my neck.
“Come for me, Teddy,” he whispers, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “I want to feel you.”
His words, combined with the relentless rhythm of his hips and the skilled movements of his fingers, push me over the edge. I cry out, my body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over me. The intensity of my orgasm triggers Javi’s, and he groans deeply, his hips stuttering as he finds his release deep inside me.
For a long moment, we stay like that, tangled together, breathing heavily. Javi’s weight on top of me is comforting, grounding. I run my fingers through his hair, still damp with sweat, as our heartbeats gradually slow.
“Wow,” I manage to say, a breathy laugh escaping me.
Javi lifts his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Wow indeed,” he agrees, leaning in to place a soft kiss on my lips.
He carefully withdraws, disposing of the condom before settling back beside me. I turn to face him, tracing my fingers along the planes of his chest, marveling at how natural this feels.
“So,” I say, a hint of playfulness in my tone, “is this how all your protection details end?”
Javi chuckles, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips. “Definitely not. You’re a special case, Miss Hollister.”
“Oh? And what makes me so special?” I ask, snuggling closer to him.
His expression turns serious, his thumb tracing patterns on my palm. “Everything,” he says. “You’re smart, determined, compassionate. You took on this mission not for glory or ambition, but because you genuinely wanted to help people. And even when things got tough, you never gave up.”
I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” I murmur.
“Maybe,” he concedes, “but you’re the one who had the courage to see it through. To face Roberts, to stand up to the press. You’re remarkable, Teddy.”
Javi’s words warm me from the inside out, chasing away the last vestiges of doubt and insecurity. I lean in, kissing him softly, trying to tell him everything I’m feeling without words.
When we part, I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, and I feel more content than I have in years.
We spend the next few minutes in silence, listening to the ocean surf below my balcony window, its peaceful rhythm a stark contrast to the chaos of the past week.
“What are you thinking about?” Javi asks, his fingers still threading through my hair.
“Everything,” I answer honestly. “The Sandpiper, Roberts, my cousins... how quickly life can change.”
“Regrets?” There’s the faintest hint of vulnerability in the question.
I raise my head to look at him, making sure he can see the truth in my eyes. “Not a single one.”
The soft smile that spreads across his face makes my heart flutter. This version of Javi—relaxed, unguarded, his usual vigilance temporarily at rest—is still new to me.
But I like it. I like it very much.
Monday would bring meetings with Preston, decisions about my new role at Hollister Hotels, and undoubtedly more challenges. But tonight, with Javi’s steady heartbeat beneath my ear and the vast ocean stretched before us, I’ve found something worth far more than any career advancement or family approval—I’ve found where I truly belong.