Chapter 29: Mr Garcia: Chapter 29

Mathew, my bodyguard holds the back door of the black Mercedes wagon open for me, and he gives me a kind smile as I walk out of my building.

“Hello, Mathew.” I smile.

“Good evening, Miss Bennet.” He closes the door behind me after I slide into the backseat.

He gets into the driver seat wearing his black customary suit and earpiece. He looks every bit of the handsome bodyguard.

We pull out into the traffic, and I glance behind me to see the second security car following us.

My life has changed dramatically.

I’m dating the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

My beloved Sebastian Garcia.

Security guards are ever present, his work schedule is ridiculous, and we live between two houses. Staying at my place is completely out of the question now. Security risks are things I can no longer ignore. Not that I can actually call it my place anymore. It’s more like an empty apartment with furniture in it. I haven’t slept there in three months. Depending on our schedule, sometimes I go weeks without even calling in. My pot plants live at Sebastian’s place, along with all of my clothes and personal belongings. He keeps asking me to end my lease and fully move in with him, but I just want to wait a little bit.

We’ve only been together for a few months, and even though I know that this is forever for us, I want to try and at least act a little cool.

Not that I can.

I’m completely and irrevocably in love.

The traffic whizzes by as I stare out of the window, and I smile to myself. If only I knew back then what I know now.

My marriage breakdown…

The darkest and most horrible days of my life when I thought that dying would be easier to get through than live another day in pain…

They were all just steppingstones to him.

He was always my grand plan—the man I was supposed to find.

I’ve never known a love like this. So pure in all its essence.

This man owns my body and soul. He’s my best friend, my confidant, my protector.

The love of my life.

And we’re not perfect. Far from it.

To the outside world, I’m sure we appear to be.

The Prime Minister who dates the lawyer… both madly in love.

On paper, the perfect duo.

But we have deep psychological flaws, both damaged in our own way. He’s insanely jealous of any man who looks my way, and he’s so innately sexual with me that it borders on being a sex addiction.

And I… well, I have nightmares where he goes back to his ex-wife.

Horrible dreams where I wake up drenched with perspiration and gasping for air.

Because, damn, if that ever happened, I wouldn’t survive it. I’ve been through a lot of things in my life but that I couldn’t cope with.

Some nights my insecurities get so bad that I dread going to sleep. I can’t handle the thought of seeing them making love in our bed.

It feels so real.

I think that’s a huge part of my problem: that they make love, not fuck.

I hate that he loved her first.

It kills me.

But I’ll never tell him. I would never admit any of it because I know this isn’t about her or anything he’s done. I have no reason to be insecure.

It’s about me and the damage my ex-husband caused when I found him in my bed with another woman.

The way he looked up at me while he was still inside of her.

My heart constricts.

I close my eyes to try and block out the memory, but the pain still lingers.

The cut is so deep, I don’t know if it will ever heal. My breath quivers on the inhale as I stare out into the night. I hate that it still affects me after all this time.

Every text Sebastian receives, I wonder if it’s from her.

Every time he’s late home, I wonder if he’s been with her.

And it’s just ridiculous because I know Sebastian would never do that to me, and I know that she hasn’t contacted him at all, but my gut won’t lose this feeling that the other shoe is about to drop.

I don’t trust Helena, and to know that she wants him back just adds salt to my wound.

I’m not an insecure person—I never have been—but I think I just love Sebastian so much that my vision is clouded. My sister Eliza says this is totally normal after coming out of a divorce and that, in time, I will get over it.

I will not let my fears poison our love. So, for now, I’ll hold it all in and keep it to myself.

I’ll act brave.

Because Sebastian Garcia’s love is worth being brave for.

The car pulls up to our destination at 10 Downing Street. The Prime Minister’s official residence. We don’t live here full time, choosing only to stay here when a function is on. That usually turns out to be around four nights a week, and Bentley stays here with us. The security team ferry him from place to place.

I smile to myself. Bentley is the most spoilt dog in all of parliament history.

The car door opens, and I step out. “Thank you,” I say to the driver.

I walk up to the front door, and it is opened immediately.

“Good evening, Miss Bennet.” A guard nods.

“Good evening.” I walk through the grand, circular foyer to another two guards that are standing to attention by the door.

They, too, nod in greeting. “Good evening, Miss Bennet.”

“Hello. Where is he?” I ask with a smile.

“In the gymnasium.”

“Thank you.” I take the steps upstairs and walk into our apartment and kick off my heels. I put my handbag down on the side table and see Bentley fast asleep on his bed in front of the fire. I pat his sleepy head.

“Oh, you are so lazy, aren’t you?” I smile. “Are you a lazy boy?” I ask in my best baby voice that I save especially for him.

I glance at my watch. The function doesn’t start for another two hours. I have plenty of time to get ready. I’ll go and see Sebastian.

I walk down the stairs, past the two guards and along a huge corridor. I turn the corner and see another two guards sitting outside the double doors. They startle when they see me and immediately stand.

“Don’t stand on my account.” I smile.

They both dip their heads. “Good evening, Miss Bennet.”

“Hi.” I can hear loud music echoing from inside the gym. “Is he alone?”

“Yes.”

I open the double doors and hear the deep beat of the music playing. I raise my eyebrow.

One of the security guards drops his head to hide his smile. I glance in to see that the light in the room is diluted, lit only by the exit signs over the door. I see Sebastian on the other side of the room, totally engrossed in his chin ups.

I close the door behind me and walk in unnoticed.

The song Goosebumps, The Remix by Travis Scott is playing, and I smile. Sebastian loves this song. He says it reminds him of me when we first used to meet back in the club.

I lean up against the back wall as I watch him, the beat to the music deep and sexy.

Sebastian’s legs are bent at the knee, and he pulls himself up on the bar. His T-shirt is wet.

Up, down, up, down, up, down.

His ass is tight and taut. Mighty fine.

How much strength does it take to do this many chin ups?

He drops to the floor and bends over with his hands resting on his knees. He pants as he rests, and I smile as I watch him.

Hmm….

He motions to reach up again, but his shirt must be constricting him. He takes it off and throws it on the floor.

He pulls himself up, and I see every muscle in his back contract. The sheen of perspiration catches the light. Oh.

I feel myself flutter.

I turn and hit repeat on the sound system’s iPad on the wall.

I watch him go up and down, his muscles contracting, with my heart in my throat.

Unable to help it, I step forward. Our eyes lock in the mirror but he keeps going with his chin ups.

The sexy song plays on in the background as I walk over and stand in front of him.

He pulls himself up as I slide my hands up his perspiration-clad body. He eases himself down, and I do the same. His biceps and shoulders are pumping.

Just like my blood.

Our eyes are locked. It’s just him and me.

Hell, he makes me forget how to breathe.

He rises up and down, his dark eyes locked on mine, and I cup his groin. I kiss his stomach, I run my hands up over his rock-hard abs and then lower.

He’s hardened.

I inhale sharply, and he lets go of the bar and jumps down.

In one sharp movement, he has me pinned to the wall, his hand wrapped tightly around my throat.

His mouth moves to my ear. “Did you come in here to feed my cock?” he whispers darkly.

I stare at him. His knee parts my legs, and he pushes his hard erection into me as he bites my ear. “Answer the fucking question,” he growls.

Goosebumps scatter up my arms, and I smile. So appropriate with the song that’s playing. “Yes.”

He slides his hand up my thigh and slips my panties to the side. He inhales sharply when he feels how wet I am. And then, without warning, he impales me with three thick fingers. I whimper into the darkness and glance at the door.

The guards are just outside.

He works me hard as he stares at me. He has the strongest fingers ever…

Fuck.

I grip his damp shoulders and, oh…

In one strong movement, he lifts my legs, spreads them wide with his strong hands, and he pins me to the wall, his cock sliding deep inside my body.

My eyes flutter closed when he bites my neck.

Goosebumps… every time.

He puts his filthy mouth to my ear. “Feed me.”

I text Sebastian.

Where are you? We have to leave

He replies:

I’m coming. What’s the rush?

I roll my eyes. I told him this ten times already.

Hazel is only awake for another hour.

We are on a hard time limit.

He replies.

FFS, I’m coming. Around the corner

I flit around in excitement. We’re going to see Charlotte and Spencer’s new babygirl.

Hazel Grace is four weeks old, and to be completely honest, I’m obsessed with her.

She’s my favorite hobby.

She’s sweet, chubby, and she smells like Heaven, all while wrapped in a pretty pink blanket.

Sebastian’s car pulls up out the front. I grab my coat, run out, and I jump in.

“Hi.” I kiss him quickly. “Took your frigging time.”

“Calm down, woman,” he says as we pull out into the street.

“I told you to be quick,” I gasp. “I can’t hold her if she’s asleep, Sebastian. It’s rude to get someone’s sleeping baby out of bed on a visit.”

He rolls his eyes. “Your obsession with this child is creepy.”

I smirk. “Maybe.” I bounce in my seat. “Drive faster.”

He exhales in exasperation as he glances into the rear-view mirror at the security car trailing us.

“If I’ve missed her, I’m blaming you,” I scoff.

“Babies sleep, April. If you missed her, you’ll just have to wait until the next visit.”

“Less talking, more driving.”

Twenty minutes later, we pull up at Spencer and Charlotte’s, and I practically run inside.

“Is she asleep?” I ask as soon as the door opens.

“I kept her up for you,” Charlotte laughs and passes the perfectly pink little bundle to me.

“Oh.” I stare down at her.

Sebastian walks in and puts his arm over my shoulder, staring down at her with me. “Isn’t she perfect?” I whisper.

He smiles. “She is.”

“Well, she is my child. What else would you expect?” Spencer says when he walks into the room and kisses my cheek. “Hey, baby.”

I drop to sit on the couch and smile down at the beautiful baby in my arms.

She’s the epitome of wonderful.

Everyone chats and talks while Spencer makes us tea, but I just stare down at Hazel. I glance up to see Sebastian sitting opposite me, watching. “You’re creepy,” he mouths.

“I don’t care,” I mouth back.

I wipe off the last of my face cleaner and throw the cotton ball in the waste bin before I stare in the mirror. I look at the small wrinkles around my eyes. Hmm, I need some new turbo charged eye cream or something.

I turn the shower on and undress.

“Seb?” I call.

He stays silent, so I poke my head around the bedroom door to see he’s engrossed in the news on the television.

“Are you getting in with me, babe?”

“No.” His arm is above his head, and his eyes stay fixed on the screen.

“Okay.” I shrug and get in under the hot water. He must be tired. He’s been really quiet all afternoon. I wet my hair, pour shampoo into my hand, and I begin to lather it up. Is there anything better than hot water therapy? I really don’t think so.

“Do you want a baby?”

My eyes spring open. “What?”

“I said…” Sebastian is standing in the steam-filled room. “Do you want a baby?”

My mouth falls open in surprise. “Um.” I hesitate. Oh, jeez. “Well…”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow and waits for my answer. “It’s a yes or no question, April.”

“Well… mine’s not really a yes or no answer.”

“Meaning what?”

“It’s a complex question.”

He puts his hands on his hips. “How?”

“I don’t want a baby.” I pause before feeling brave enough to say the rest. “I want your baby.”

His eyes search mine.

I exhale. “I mean, I know—”

He cuts me off by stepping forward into the water, still fully clothed, and he takes me into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I frown.

“Marry me.”