Tempting the Bodyguard

by J. Lynn

  “Jerk off?” His lips tipped up as he moved his large hands along the curve of her waist, stopping below her aching breasts. His searching gaze seared her body. “Or jerk off thinking about you? The answer is yes to both.”

  Her breath stilled in her chest as he felt the light weight of her breasts, his fingers coming tantalizingly close to their peaks. “You’re lying.”

  “I never lie.” The conviction in his voice was undeniable. “Every single fucking night since you showed up at my door. I’d send you running if I told you what some of my fantasies involved.”

  She wanted to know. Details—lots of details, but then his fingers moved over her breasts and the ability to speak went out the window. Catching her nipples between his fingers, he watched her closely as he rolled them with his thumb and then plucked at them. They hardened and ached for him.

  “You were having a nightmare,” he said quietly, teasing her.

  “W-what?”

  “When you were bathing. I heard you cry out,” he explained. “That’s why I came in there.”

  “Oh.” Her thoughts were muddled in a sensual haze. “It was just a dream.”

  He pulled her closer and then his mouth was on her breast, licking over the peak and then tugging on it with his teeth. The sharp burst of pleasured pain was instantly soothed with a lap of his tongue. He alternated between the quick nips and licks until her head fell back. She cried out, her body shuddering even as it tightened deliciously.

  Chandler suddenly pulled back, and her eyes flew open. She stared at him in disbelief. “You stopped!”

  “For now.” He sent her a fleeting grin and then pulled his shirt off over his head.

  His body…she hadn’t forgotten how perfect it was. The broad, muscled shoulders, hard pecs, and a stomach that was rippled and chiseled like rock. He was 100 percent male, not an inch of flab on his body. Her gaze found a puckered, circular scar on his shoulder, the skin a deeper pink than the rest of his body. She wanted to ask how he got it, because to her, it really looked like a bullet wound.

  “Turn around.”

  Her brows shot up. “What?”

  Holding his shirt between his hands, he spun it until it was stretched long and thin. His eyes met hers and a dark, dangerous allure filled the blue of his eyes. “Turn around, Alana.”

  Her heart jumped in her chest as a sharp, almost painful lick of pleasure pulsed through her. Her eyes fixed on his shirt, and she couldn’t help but think about what he wanted to do with it and all the things she’d heard about how Chandler liked to give pleasure. Part of her wanted to be turned off by it, to be disgusted, but she wasn’t.

  Every cell in her body swelled. A tiny spark of fear blossomed in her chest, but it wasn’t that she was afraid of him. More like afraid of how she’d respond. But she took a deep breath and did as he asked.

  A hand grazed over the curve of her bottom, causing her to jerk. She felt him behind her, standing. The heat from his body warmed hers. “Chandler?”

  “Do you trust me?” he asked, skimming a hand over her hip and then to her arm. He pulled it back behind her. “You have to trust me for this. Do you?”

  Her heart pounded in her chest as she swallowed. “Yes.”

  “That’s my girl.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and then guided her other arm back behind her.

  She knew what he was going to do, but it still came as a shock when she felt the cloth draping over her wrists. A dark thrill that should’ve surprised her lit up her blood and scattered her senses. Was he…?

  Chandler tightened the makeshift bond, securing her wrists behind her back. So the rumors and the whispered talk about Chandler were dead-on.

  He turned her around, but she kept her gaze trained on the line between his pecs. “Hey,” he said, placing the tips of his fingers under her chin and guiding her gaze up. “You have to be okay with this. If not—”

  “I’m okay.” She wiggled her fingers and tested the bonds. She could move her hands, but not far. Heat coursed over her cheeks. “I’m just…”

  “Fucking stunning?” he supplied, and her lips cracked into a grin. He clasped her cheeks and lowered his mouth to hers.

  The kiss was different. Slower. Deeper. He tasted her, drawing her deep within him, and she melted into the touch. With a deep, animalistic groan, he shifted, and the next second she was on her back and he hovered above her. The look in his eyes caused the air to catch in her throat.

  “Look at you.” He slid a palm between her breasts, stopping below her navel. “I could stare at you forever.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Patience,” he murmured, lowering his head.

  Patience was not a virtue she appreciated, but Chandler wasn’t going to be sped up. He took his time kissing her lips, and then he ran his mouth along her jaw, down her throat, and between her breasts. He tongued the soft swell of her breast, traveling up and then around the aching point. He came so close, but always skated away at the last second. Her nipples were pouty, hard, and aching by the time his hot mouth covered one.

  Her back arched clear off the bed as he suckled deep and nipped, going back and forth between her breasts until her head was spinning.

  Just when she was about to beg him to stop, for more, he kissed a path down to her navel. His tongue flicked inside and she felt an answering jolt between her thighs.

  “Why this?” he asked, tracing the tattoo with his wicked tongue.

  Her hands curled helplessly behind her as she closed her eyes. “Because…”

  “Because why?”

  She didn’t want to answer, because it was rather embarrassing.

  Chandler chuckled. “You’ll tell me eventually.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Is that a challenge?” He kissed each of the three withered petals.

  A smile tugged at her lips as the gesture also pulled at her heart. The kisses… They were tender. “Isn’t there something else you could be doing with your mouth besides talking?”

  “Oh, listen to you.” Chandler’s lips left her stomach and she opened her eyes in time to see him crawl up her. His eyes were like blue pools. “I have a thing for that mouth.” He dipped his head, kissing her deeply. “That I plan to put to use very soon.”

  She drew in a bated breath and the tips of her breasts brushed his chest. The sparse, wiry hairs teased her. “Are you sure? I might fall asleep before then.”

  Chandler laughed, dropping his head to nuzzle her neck. He made his way back down her body, nipping and licking until his head was poised between her thighs. Her breathing was coming fast and ragged by then. Men had gone down on her before, and she’d never been a big fan of it, but she knew with Chandler it was going to be different. Sex before had never been like this.

  He peered up at her as he rested on his side, one arm hooked under a thigh and his shoulders splitting her legs. He ran a finger around the patch of hair. “Tell me about the tattoo.”

  “No.”

  His finger moved lower and she tensed. “When did you get it done?”

  She closed her eyes and clamped her lips together, wishing she could just grab his head and put his mouth to better use. “Chandler.”

  “Tell me when.” His finger traveled up the inside of her thigh, stopping just below her heat. “How old were you?”

  The bastard was relentless. Her skin burned and her body pulsed with yearning. “I was eighteen,” she bit out. “Happy?”

  “Yes.” He cupped her between the thighs, covering her throbbing center. “Happy?”

  Her back bowed as her hips immediately pushed against his hand. “Getting there…”

  “Hmm.” He pressed a kiss to the crease of her thigh as he rotated his palm, eliciting a throaty moan from her. “Drunk or sober?”

  “What?” she gasped.

  He pressed his palm against her. “Were you drunk or sober when you got the tattoo?”

  She wanted to refuse him, but then he lifted his hand. Cool air brushed her and sh
e muttered a curse. Chandler laughed. “I was a little drunk,” she admitted, and was rewarded with a long finger trailing down her swollen folds. “Oh God…”

  “A little drunk? Like you’re a little wet right now?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Something like that.”

  “The rose looks familiar to me,” he said casually, just as he slipped his finger inside her tightness. “What is it from?”

  Alana arched, sucking in a deep breath. He slowly moved his finger in and out as he pressed against the bundle of nerves. Her whole body trembled and her breasts strained upward.

  He added another finger, stretching her. “Damn, you’re so tight.”

  Every part of her felt incredibly taut, as if she were seconds from bursting. Her stomach quivered and fine darts of pleasure zinged through her. Her release coiled deep inside her, drawing her body into one fine point.

  Then he stopped, withdrawing those wonderful fingers. “Alana?”

  Her eyes opened into slits. He stared back at her, mischief in his smile but a dark hunger in his eyes. He would drag this on until she went crazy and he’d love every second of it. But she couldn’t take the sublime aching any longer.

  “It’s the rose from Beauty and the Beast,” she admitted.

  “What?”

  “You know? The rose that wilts and is enchanted?” She let her head fall back and closed her eyes. “It was my favorite movie as a kid and I was drunk one night. Ended up with the tattoo.”

  Silence stretched out to the point that she feared he’d grown bored with this game, but the next second she felt his warm breath moving over her and her entire body tensed.

  Then he kissed her where she ached so badly.

  A strangled cry left her lips, heightened with one sinfully deep swipe of his tongue. Intense pleasure bloomed as he continued to lick her, slipping deep inside and then coming out, circling the sensitive nub above. Then he slid a finger into her and he clasped down on her clit, matching the thrusts of his fingers to his mouth.

  Never had Alana felt something so intense as this. Pressure clamped down on her, dragging her under. She desperately fought her response, but her hips twitched and then she was thrusting against his skilled hand and mouth shamelessly, her head moving to and fro as her breath quickened in her chest.

  “Let go,” he urged hotly. “Just let go and let me please you. Let go.”

  Each pull of his mouth caused her to cry out. With her hands bound, she couldn’t grasp onto anything, couldn’t center herself in the midst of the sharp waves of pleasure. She was absolutely helpless to him and to the desires ravaging her body. He inserted another finger and his teeth scraped her sensitive flesh and then she did let go.

  Alana exploded. The tension unraveled so quickly inside her that she screamed out his name as spasms racked her body. She shattered and flew apart, shaken to the core as her release showered sparks through her. He rode her out through it all, wringing every rolling crest of pleasure from her.

  Only when she’d sunk back into the mattress, boneless and breathless, did he stop. Pressing a kiss to her inner thigh and then below her navel, he rose up, taking her mouth. The taste of him and her was like being intoxicated.

  God, she hoped she didn’t end up with a tattoo of a singing teacup by the end of the night.

  Chandler smoothed his palm up her side, cupping her breast. “Beautiful,” he said, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers. “You’re absolutely beautiful when you lose control.”

  …

  After an orgasm, Alana was like a contented kitten instead of the tigress ready to rip into him with her sharp claws. She relaxed against him for a few moments while he regained control of himself.

  He was about to lose it without taking his jeans off.

  Never had he been so fucking turned on while giving a woman pleasure. He was so aroused that it was actually painful, but he forced himself to lay beside her, idly brushing his thumb over the rosy pink peak of her breast. He liked her nipples and her breasts and the way she tasted like honey on his lips and how she plumped her lips and…

  Hell, he just liked her.

  But “like” was a weak word to describe the way his heart was pounding in his chest like a jackhammer. Leaning over her, he kissed the tip of her breast. He smiled when she shuddered and then sighed. Lifting his stare, he let his gaze travel over her face. It had to be one of the rarest moments when she looked absolutely relaxed, lips parted and eyes closed. Thick, dark lashes fanned her cheeks.

  He wasn’t waxing poetic bullshit, earlier. To him, she was absolutely beautiful.

  Her lashes fluttered open. “That was…”

  “Amazing?” He arched a brow. “I know.”

  A soft, tinkling laugh came from her, and there was a spasm somewhere near his chest. “Your modesty is amazing.”

  He smiled.

  She struggled to rise as her arms were still tied behind her back. He started to set her free, but her words stopped him. “What about you?”

  Both brows rose. “What about me?”

  Her gaze dropped to where a bulge strained against his pants and she wet her lips. His cock jerked in response. “You said earlier that you planned on putting my mouth to good use.”

  He had said that, and fuck if he didn’t want that more than anything he’d ever wanted in his life, but he…

  Chandler shook his head.

  Her tongue moved against her lips and whatever tiny level of hesitation that had been brewing in his chest evaporated like smoke. Her eyes were wide and dark with passion, hair a tumbled mess over her shoulders and curling around her breasts. It was the first time he’d seen her look so…so free.

  And fuck, she was perfect.

  “Well then…” He rose, unbuttoning his pants. He had them off in less than a second.

  Her gaze dropped, and she made a sound that his cock really liked. He was hard, jutting up in the air, and so close to losing it that if she kept staring at him like that, he’d come right then.

  Gripping her shoulders, he positioned her on her knees before him and then bent down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that ended too soon. Then he straightened before her.

  With her wrists secured behind her back, her chest thrust up and her eyes wide, he could absolutely eat her up, one lick at a time. And he was sorely tempted to do that again, but she tipped up her chin, meeting his gaze.

  “What is it that you wanted me to do?” Her voice was breathy.

  Like he thought before, she was fucking perfect.

  He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, moisture already beaded on the head. “Suck me.”

  Something downright wicked flared in her eyes, and then she ducked her chin. Her hair slid forward, obscuring her face. He felt her breath first and his balls tightened, and then her hot, wet mouth slipped over the head of his cock.

  His back bowed as he groaned. She took him, sliding her tongue along the head as she shifted on the bed, balancing herself on her knees. He gathered her hair with his free hand and tilted her head so she could take him deeper, and she did.

  Alana nearly swallowed his length and that was no easy feat.

  She moved her head up and down, swirling her tongue as she sucked long and hard. Every muscle in his body tightened. He tried to hold still, but when her teeth grazed his sensitive head, he couldn’t hold back.

  His hips thrust forward as he watched her cheeks sink in as she tugged on his cock. Her lashes swept up and their gazes collided for an instant. Something in her stare broke him wide open. Release powered down his spine. He tried not to pull back, but she followed him and if he hadn’t stopped, she would’ve fallen right off the bed. The fucking sight of her obliterated his senses. The way her body curved toward his, how she was so willing with her hands tied behind her back.

  It was too much.

  He came, his hips jerking wildly, and she kept on him, humming soft sounds of pleasure. He emptied into her hot mouth, shouting hoarsely as he spasmed endlessly. The o
rgasm…Goddamn…it felt like it would never end. His hand tightened against the back of her head, holding her until the last achingly perfect pulse.

  Slowly, he eased away from her, his legs strangely weak as he dragged in a deep breath. He dropped his gaze to hers, his chest rising and falling raggedly. “Are you okay?”

  Alana nodded as she bit down on her lip. “Are you?”

  He coughed out a laugh. “Fucking perfect.”

  Pink stained her cheeks as she averted her gaze. She sat back on her legs, letting out a little yawn. She was exhausted and he should let her be. Both of them had sought and found their pleasure, but he wasn’t ready.

  After experiencing her mouth on him and the taste of her, there was no way this was going to be the last time. Quickly untying her wrists, he all but toppled onto his back, pulling her naked body to his, and draped a possessive arm over her waist, fitting her close. She was stiff against him, her back too straight and her arms awkwardly stuck between their damp bodies. So cuddling wasn’t her thing?

  He wasn’t a big fan of it, either, but strangely, he wanted her beside him, and she was going to have to deal with it.

  When he had her where he wanted, he gathered her wrists in his hands and began to massage the skin.

  Slowly, as the seconds turned into minutes, Alana relaxed against him. Her breath evened out, and her body melted into his.

  There was no way in hell Chandler was letting her go anytime soon.

  Chapter Ten

  Chandler ended up falling asleep Saturday night in her room, sprawled gloriously naked across her bed and with his arm possessively thrown over her waist. Admittedly, she had never been more comfortable in her life pressed up against him, with no barrier separating their flesh, but she couldn’t allow herself to sleep while he snored softly.

  Lovers slept together after sex, not two people who were getting off.

  In her past, albeit brief, relationships, she’d had trouble sleeping in the same bed. Even with Steven, who had been the longest relationship she’d been in, she’d never been able to relax enough to comfortably sleep. And that had to mean something, right?

  But last night… Oh God, after about an hour, her lids had grown too heavy to keep open and she had relaxed into him. The realization had jerked her awake and in a near panic, she had slipped free from his grasp, gathered up her clothes, and slept on the couch downstairs.