Guarding Gemma, page 6
This is no tentative kiss. It's a wildfire, an uncontainable blaze. His stubble scrapes my skin; his hands trace patterns down my back. I'm lost in the taste of him, the feel of his hard body pressed to mine.
My voice fails me, but my actions speak volumes. I pull him closer, savoring the safety and security of his arms around me. Winding my arms around his neck, I hold onto him, locked in place as if trying to hold on to this moment forever.
With him, I'm not afraid of the shadows that threaten me or the passions that stir within.
We sit like that as the city lights flicker and dance around us. The lingering tension from the note still whispers of danger in the darkness. But right now, in the circle of light with Dylan's steady strength beside me, I feel safe. Protected. Not alone.
It's enough for now.
Chapter 9
Dylan
The room feels smaller tonight, the walls inching closer with every tick of the clock. I'm certain the stalker is an inside man. I need to get Gemma to safety right away.
I close the distance between us, my resolve hardening. “We're taking a road trip,” I declare, grabbing a duffel from the back of Gemma's closet.
Gemma blinks, chestnut waves spilling over her shoulders. “A trip? What's going on? This is so sudden.”
“My buddy has a cabin tucked away upstate,” I say, avoiding her curious eyes. “Super secluded area. I figured we both deserve some R and R.”
Gemma worries the hem of her sweater between restless fingers. “Is everything okay?”
“I thought we could use a quiet getaway. Unwind and unplug for a bit. The place barely gets cell service anyway.”
Not a total fib–being isolated and off-grid is precisely why secrecy is guaranteed there.
Gemma chews her lip, but she finally quirks a grin. “Well, if haunted cabins are your idea of relaxation, then sure.”
I chuckle, shoulders loosening in relief at her willingness to play along. We can have the difficult talks later. Today, all that matters is vanishing before the monsters find us again.
“Don't worry, I won't let the boogeyman get you,” I tease gently.
She rolls her eyes but smiles, some unspoken trust passing between us.
The drive upstate is a blur of dark roads and endless trees. Gemma dozes fitfully against the window. I keep one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gun holstered at my side. It's a comfort, the weight familiar and reassuring as we hit the highway.
I glance over at her delicate features, illuminated by the glow of the dashboard lights. It's hard to believe anyone would want to hurt someone as gentle as her. But I know evil exists—I’ve seen it firsthand. And right now, it’s targeting the woman I swore to protect.
She has no idea where we’re going or why. I haven’t told her anything since I showed up and said we needed to leave immediately. Part of me hates keeping her in the dark. But until I figure out who we can trust, the less she knows, the safer she is.
After an hour, the city fades into a forest. The tires crunch on the gravel road as I guide the truck up the mountain pass. Gemma regards the increasingly remote scenery. Her singing trails off as she peers out the window. “Are we almost there yet?”
“We’ve got a while to go.” I sigh, hands tightening on the wheel. “I know this is weird, but I need you to trust me.”
She holds my gaze for a long moment before nodding. “I do, but I don’t understand.”
We share a tense smile. “I promise I’ll explain everything soon.” I need to keep her mind engaged. I put on my best pretend tour guide voice. “Here we have scenic trees, more trees, and if you look closely, even more trees.”
Gemma pretends to take photos. “Stunning! Such majestic pines!”
I spread my arms out to show Gemma the surroundings. She places a hand on my arm, and I flex my muscles.
She fans herself, eyes sparkling with delight. “Do that again, and I might faint!”
“I know CPR,” I warn with a wink.
We’re both laughing now, the tension of the long drive momentarily forgotten.
When we finally arrive, the cabin is as I remember—rustic and inviting, hidden amongst the dense woods. My buddy, Thorne, owes me more than a few favors, and right now, hooking us up with this secluded sanctuary is repayment enough. Thorne assured me he squared things away with Carter, the owner, and he’s on my side. We have his permission to use the cabin for as long as we need while Carter’s out of town.
“Here we are,” I announce, cutting the engine.
She looks at the small, rustic cabin nestled among the pine trees. Her blue eyes are bright with curiosity as she takes it all in. A thin curl of smoke rises from the chimney, the only sign of life for miles.
“Well, this is cozy,” Gemma remarks, but her tone is doubtful. “Let me guess. We’re on a survivalist retreat, and tomorrow’s trust-building exercise is eating worms?”
I chuckle. “Close. Tomorrow, we forage for berries and braid each other’s hair.”
She gasps dramatically. “Do you think they have a sweat lodge? I love a good detox.”
“I’m sure we can build one. But the safe words are ‘platypus’ and ‘rutabaga’ in case things get too intense.”
Gemma pretends to swoon. “Take me now, you rugged mountain man!”
I flex my bicep again. “Can’t resist all this raw masculinity, can you?”
I get out and go around to open Gemma's door, offering my hand. She takes it, stepping down gracefully. “It's perfect,” she says, a smile playing on her lips. “Like something out of a storybook.”
I nod, relieved she approves.
The cold mountain air pinks her cheeks as she looks around. “How did you find this place?”
“My truck broke down near here last winter. Carter, the guy who owns the cabin, helped me out with spare parts. He was the first person I thought of when I needed somewhere safe for you because no one can connect us to him.”
I grab our bags and unlock the heavy wooden door. “Let's get inside. I'll handle the luggage.”
I do a quick walk around, verifying there’s no immediate threat. Inside, the cabin is sparsely furnished but cozy. A stone fireplace dominates the main room, flanked by a small kitchen and sitting area.
Gemma wanders around, peeking into the kitchen cabinets and bedroom. I watch her move gracefully, the firelight playing over her features. The knots in my back unravel slightly just seeing her relaxed exploration.
She comes to stand near me again, hands outstretched toward the warmth. “Thank you for bringing us here. I know you're trying to keep me safe.”
Her simple trust makes my chest ache. I vow silently to be worthy of it. “Make yourself at home. I'll bring in some more firewood.”
When I return, arms full of split logs, I light the fireplace while Gemma is rummaging through the kitchen.
“I found the pantry fully stocked,” she says. “How about I make us some dinner?”
“You don't have to do that.”
“I want to. It's the least I can do after you went through all this trouble.”
I know better than to argue with her. Once Gemma sets her mind on something, there's no changing it. I set about making the bed while Gemma manages to whip up a meal that smells like heaven.
“Thank you for this,” she says quietly as we sit down to eat. Her gaze holds mine, and there's a depth to it that makes my heart skip a beat.
“I'm glad you like it.” I hand her one of the beers and clink my bottle against hers. “To our hideaway.”
She laughs. “To our hideaway.”
We sip our beers in comfortable silence. The only sound is the occasional pop and hiss from the fire.
Gemma's voice startles me from my thoughts. “So, this is what quiet sounds like. I was beginning to think it was just a myth.”
I glance over to see her watching me, a hint of a smile on her lips.
“Welcome to reality—no honking cars, no sirens, just us.” I pause for dramatic effect. “And possibly bears.”
She lets out a surprised laugh, light and melodic. The sound warms me more than any fire could.
“Well, I guess I'll just have to stay close to you then.” She inches nearer on the sofa until our legs are touching. “You'll protect me from the big bad bears, right?”
Her bright blue eyes meet mine, still glinting with delight. But underneath, I sense a vulnerability. She needs reassurance that I'll keep her safe. From the animals, the isolation, and everything else.
“I promise, no bears are getting past me to get to you.” I inject a seriousness into my voice so she knows I mean it.
For the first time in weeks, the ever-present tension in my shoulders begins to uncoil. No one knows we're here together. Gemma looks utterly at peace, too, eyes half-closed as she soaks up the heat of the flames.
This place feels like a different world—one where it's just the two of us. No lurking danger or obligations. A cocoon where we can shut out everything beyond these walls, if only for a little while.
Gemma sighs softly. “I feel like I can breathe here, with you. Like maybe everything will be okay.”
“It will be,” I answer simply.
Her answering smile outshines the sun. This woman has become more than a job, more than a responsibility. She's etched herself under my skin, and there's no going back.
I'm unsure if she's entirely on board with my feelings yet, but at least she's not pushing me away or running in the opposite direction. My heart races as I put all my cards on the table, hoping she'll reciprocate my feelings.
I tilt her chin up so our eyes meet. “Promise we'll tell the world how we feel when all this is over.”
Gemma's blue eyes search mine. “You need to tell me first.”
“Do you even need to ask? You’re my everything, Gemma. My world.”
Her hands, soft and delicate like a butterfly's wings, glide over my face, tracing the lines of my jaw and trailing down to my shoulders and chest. Her hands tangle in my hair, pulling me down for a kiss. We come up for air, foreheads pressed together.
“My everything,” she whispers. “You don’t know what it means to hear you say that.”
Her simple words make my heart swell.
I blow out a breath. “Past pain and disappointment left me guarded and convinced me that love is not meant for me. But then you appeared in my life, and everything changed. You made me believe forever is possible, but only if it’s with you.”
“I feel the same,” Gemma confesses, cheeks flushed. She kisses me again, erasing any doubts. A soft smile plays on her lips. “I love you, Dylan. There. I'm ahead of schedule.”
“Overachiever.” I press my forehead against hers, feeling the last barriers between us crumble as she beats me to the finish line. My perfect, bold, woman. “I love you too, Gemma Caldwell.”
Gemma's gentle chuckle turns into a moan as our lips meet again. We sink onto the plush rug in front of the fireplace, hands roaming eagerly. She feels so warm and soft in my arms like a dream come true.
I lose myself in the moment, kissing every inch of her neck, tasting the sweetness of her skin as my fingers trace delicate patterns on her stomach.
Her breath hitches when my thumb brushes against her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. With one swift motion, I unclasp it and free her perfect breasts, taking first one and then the other into my mouth.
She writhes beneath me, begging for more with every shallow gasp. Our clothes come off piece by piece.
My hand moves lower, finding her dripping and ready for me. Her hips rock up to meet my touch, seeking release. She bites her lip, arching into my touch as if she could crawl inside my skin any second now.
“Oh god,” she whispers hoarsely between kisses. “Dylan—”
She moans and writhes as I tease her clit, swallowing every sound she makes. Her walls pulse and tighten around my fingers, urging me on.
With each stroke of my fingers through her folds, she moans louder and louder—it's addictive to be the source of such ecstasy for this incredible woman who's mine tonight, and every night for the rest of our lives.
With careful movements, she reaches lower, her tiny fingers cautiously wrapping around my cock. As she begins stroking me, I close my eyes and sigh with pleasure. But it's not enough—I need more.
So I stop her by grabbing her wrist firmly, lifting her arms above her head, and holding them there while I slide a condom over my length.
“I can't wait any longer, babe,” I growl, removing my fingers and replacing them with my cock.
As I enter her tight, velvety warmth, she stretches around me, her muscles clenching and gripping me tightly. I move slowly, filling her with every slow grind, our lips never breaking contact.
With each thrust, her body tightens and releases, her moans growing louder and more urgent.
Her fingers dig into my skin, leaving marks as she rides the waves of pleasure. She trembles, her nails digging into my skin as she reaches her climax.
It's not raunchy, messy sex. Yet, as I follow her over the edge, I realize it’s the most exhilarating sexual encounter I've ever had. Our emotional connection heightens the experience, making it deeply satisfying.
I kiss her deeply before pulling a blanket over us, and we settle, her back nestled against my chest, my arms circled securely around her.
I whisper, telling her, “You're giving me everything I never thought possible.”
She lets out a sweet sigh. I know we can't stay in this haven forever, but for now, it's enough. For the first time in weeks, we can both breathe easy. Gemma is safe.
Tomorrow, we'll figure everything out. But tonight, I focus only on her warmth, her steady breathing. And the rightness of having her here in my arms–where she belongs.
Chapter 10
Dylan
As I dig deeper into the threats against Gemma, I'm starting to realize there's more going on here than just a stalker. My training has taught me to always look underneath the surface and never to take things at face value. And something about this situation feels off.
I started my investigation by looking into Caldwell Estate's financial records. Gemma's father claimed they were on the brink of collapse—that her marriage to Julian was necessary to save the family business. But I need to verify that for myself.
What I uncover is far worse than I expected. Doctored books, inflated numbers, and payments redirected to shell companies. Someone has been embezzling from the estate for years right under the family's nose. And they've done a damn good job covering their tracks.
But I'm better. Methodically tracing paper trails, crunching numbers, and cross-referencing records. Slowly unraveling the web of deception. Most of the missing funds can be traced back to a former estate manager named Thomas Wright.
The pieces begin falling into place. Thomas must be Gemma's stalker, seeking revenge after getting fired. He's been abusing his position for personal gain, gradually bleeding the estate dry over the years. His financial mismanagement is a massive factor in their current troubles.
This goes deeper than just the stalking. Years of neglect and graft have left the Caldwell vineyards struggling. I uncover falsified maintenance logs, and critical upkeep ignored to cut costs. Thomas put profits over the long-term health of the estate. And now they're paying the price.
I have to tell Gemma. She needs to know the truth about Thomas so she can start to rebuild what he's broken. Her family can't move forward until they rip off this band-aid.
I stalk back and forth, my military training kicking in as I hold the phone tightly to my ear. On the other end, my former SEAL brother, Ethan, is giving me intel on Thomas Walsh.
“He was a manager at Caldwell Estates,” he says, “and he has a history of stalking and threatening ex-girlfriends.”
My fists clench as I growl lowly, “When I get my hands on that scumbag—”
A creak of floorboards echoes throughout the old house, causing me to spin around. Gemma is standing in the doorway, concern etched on her face, as she steps further into the room.
I hold up a finger, silently asking her to wait while I finish my call. “I gotta go,” I say into the phone, “Keep digging and let me know if you find anything else.”
I hang up and stuff my phone into my pocket, letting out a long breath.
“How much did you hear?” I ask, dreading her response.
“I heard enough.” She hesitates in the doorway, frustrated, with her hand on her hip, waiting for more of an answer.”Dylan, we are here; I am here in the middle of nowhere because I gave you permission to take me away from my home.”
I cross the room in quick strides and gently grasp her shoulders. “I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I wanted to protect you from this a little longer.”
Gemma shakes her head, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.
Feeling contrite, I drop my eyes to the ground. “Everything I did was because I—”
“Because I gave you my permission to. And you know why? It’s because I trust you.”
My heart melts. “You trust me.”
“I do. So stop treating me like an idiot and give me your trust as well. We work as a team from now on. You got it?”
“Bossy aren't you, Miss Sunshine?”
“I guess it takes one to know one,” she jokes.
I share what I know so far with her, as we sift through the documents strewn across the floor. “I suspected it was an inside job and got my best guys looking into it. We can access information the police can't. Your father cooperated and my team worked through it until we found the culprit.”
“Thomas?” Her voice cracks on his name. “He was an employee of my father's.”
She pauses, her face clouding over with memories. Her eyes dart to the ground as she continues, “I barely knew him, but I remember he was always bitter about losing his job. He made a lot of empty threats, but I never took them seriously.”
I nod grimly, tightening my hold.
