The Bodyguard's Christmas Proposal

by Charlotte Hawkes

  Just not quite close enough.

  ‘Right.’ Her voice felt scratchy.

  ‘We should leave,’ he gritted out.

  Only he wasn’t moving any more than she was.

  She couldn’t. She didn’t want to break this moment. Even though it had already been broken. A firework display was going off inside her body right now and suddenly she wanted to be bold. And daring.

  ‘I live less than half a block away.’

  The words were out before she could have second thoughts.

  His blue eyes gleamed.

  ‘Is that an invitation?’

  Her heart pounded louder. Harder. This went against every bit of common sense. There was something about Logan Connors that had sneaked under Kat’s skin. Letting him get closer was inviting danger.

  But suddenly she wanted it—him—too much to care.

  ‘It’s an invitation,’ she managed.

  And it was all the more thrilling when Logan didn’t ask a second time. He simply bowed his head, gripped her hand that little bit tighter, and led them out of the pavilion so fast that she had to walk-jog to keep up. A gurgle of excitement threatened to spill out of her, and she just about managed to swallow it back down.

  No need for him to realise quite how nervous or impatient she felt.

  ‘Where, exactly?’ he demanded gruffly.

  Kat fought to keep her voice low as she gave him the address. Letting him lead her as they dodged through the crowds also pouring back onto the paths now that there was a break in the weather.

  She bit her tongue. Was it just her who felt as though they were swimming against the tide, the only two trying to head in a different direction from everybody else?

  For fifteen minutes they weaved their way along and then, at last, they were outside Kat’s building. Her whole body trembled. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she was rain-soaked and windswept.

  Wordlessly, she led him into the lobby, sent silent thanks for the vacant elevator and jabbed her floor button with her finger.

  He barely even waited for the doors to close before he backed her into the wall and claimed her mouth with his.

  In all her life Kat had never felt so wanton. So daring. She wrapped her arms around his neck and surged against him, pressing her body as close as humanly possible, letting the heat from his body sear into hers.

  She forgot that they were both cold and wet through. He warmed her from the inside out. More than that. He scalded her, and she welcomed every single second of it.

  His body was so hard. Sculpted and perfect. And she wanted to wrap her body around every single inch of it. She ran her hands up his arms, revelling in the feel of those solid biceps under her palms, exulting in the exquisite pain as her tight nipples chaffed against his chiselled body.

  She wanted more. So much more that she was afraid she would never get enough.

  The doors pinged open and Logan reluctantly pulled back from her, making Kat realise that she’d never even felt the lift stopping. Hadn’t even realised it had been slowing. She’d been too caught up in this. In Logan.

  It should have been the warning she needed. But it wasn’t.

  Somehow they made it out of the lift, along the corridor and to her door. She fumbled with the keys a couple of times before he slid the set out of her shaking hands and slid the correct one into the lock. The door opened and they fell inside.

  Finally, they were alone. There were no more safety nets. And Kat knew there was nothing left to stop them.

  He kissed her. Over and over, demanding and giving, his mouth branding her, his tongue invading her, and she welcomed every second of it. She pressed herself to him again, but this time she found the barrier of their wet clothes to be a hindrance she couldn’t stand. She shivered, partly with the thrill and partly with the cold, and when she dropped to hook her fingers under the hem of his T and began to lift it, he stayed her hands.

  ‘Logan...’ she protested.

  ‘I have a better idea.’ He cut her off roughly, a certain thrilling urgency to his voice.

  Then he lowered his hands to her bottom and lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his hips. The hardest, most male part of him nestled into the softest part of her, sending an unexpected jolt through her, sending everything suddenly so white hot that Kat gasped.

  ‘The bedroom’s over that way.’ She had no idea how she managed to speak.

  The feel of his shoulder muscles bunching under her fingers was almost too incredible. And then he began to move, carrying her as though she weighed nothing, his mouth never leaving hers.

  She wasn’t sure when it occurred to her that he wasn’t in her bedroom but her bathroom, and he was flipping on the shower until steam rose from the all-too-inviting hot water.

  ‘It isn’t exactly built for two,’ she began.

  ‘Then it’ll make it all the cosier.’

  The look he shot her was nothing short of carnal, and when Kat shivered again she was sure it was for a completely different reason than the cold. He was reaching for her again, kissing her with the same hot intensity as before and stripping them both with such efficiency that she hardly noticed they were naked until he swept her up and carried her into the shower, the hot water like another kind of bliss on her cold, clammy skin.

  And then he tipped a generous handful of shower gel into his hand and began to soap her body in what had to be the most incredible foreplay she’d never known to exist. He started with her neck and, moving in small, circular movements that only seemed to move a few millimetres at a time, he began to slowly work his way first down one shoulder and then the other.

  As though they had all the time in the world.

  He moved down one arm, worked the foam down to the elbow, and then he switched his attention to the other arm. He worked it down from the elbow to the wrist. And then he repeated it on the other side.

  Then he knelt down, repeating the whole process down each of her thighs then each of her calves, his mouth so close to her sex she could practically feel his hot breath blowing on her, making her belly clench, and a fire blaze unbelievable brightly.

  ‘Logan,’ she muttered, her eyes feeling heavy as she stared down at him, the throbbing between her legs excruciating and exhilarating.

  ‘Patience,’ he ground out, and deep in the recesses of her mind it occurred to her that he was barely keeping any more control that she was.

  He soaped every inch of her whilst the water sluiced it off, all the while taking his damned sweet time, like an exquisite form of torment. Feeling his big hands all over her body but never where she ached for him most.

  Finally, he turned her round so that she was facing the shower wall and worked his way over every inch of her back. And at last he slid his hand around to her front and he began using his magic there.

  Kat could hardly even stand. Her legs felt weak with a longing, a yearning so fierce it almost floored her. She swayed back into Logan, subconsciously seeking strength there, but the feel of his hard chest up against her back, and his arousal pressed into her backside, only made things all the more dizzying.

  And still Logan didn’t stop. With one hand he cupped her hip, whilst the other hand drew whorls and swirls over her chest, scorching her skin wherever he touched but always, always skimming tantalisingly past her nipples. Never quite touching them.

  Until she ached so much she thought she might die if he didn’t take her. And that she’d die if he did.

  He lowered his head, letting his lips graze her neck, and Kat heard a low moan as she tilted her head to grant him better access. It took her a moment to realise that moan had been from her.

  Still, still he raked his hand over her body, down over her ribs, her abdomen, fleetingly to the juncture of her body and her legs and then slipping back up again. Need juddered through her again and again, and
Logan simply laughed that low, raspy sound of his and carried on teasing her.

  Finally, he let his fingers dance over her skin to take one taut nipple in his hands...and he rolled it.

  Lust rocketed through Kat—along with something else she didn’t care to examine at that moment. Instead, she gave herself up to the slew of sensations that rolled through her as Logan experimented, as though he had all the time in the world to get to know her. To learn what she liked, and how. He increased the pressure, and he released it. He drew patterns and he used his palm to abrade her skin.

  Every stroke, and flick, and roll stoked the fire within her until the dull throb right there, at the apex of her legs, had grown into a deafening roar.

  When she had long since gone past the point of being able to bear it, he grazed the back of his hand over her side, her hips and right to the place where she was molten for him. Kat cried out as his skilful fingers slid into her slick folds and he began to stroke her.

  Sensations walloped through her. All she could do was revel in the feel of his hand between her legs, his impossibly chiselled body at her back and his wicked mouth on her neck.

  It was too much; yet not enough.

  She was lost.

  And she didn’t think she ever wanted to find her way out.

  Higher and higher, Logan stoked the fire inside her. Every flick of his finger sending shudders of pleasure right through her. As the rhythm grew, he slid a long finger inside her, making her feel hotter, and wilder, and almost mad with need. And Kat could feel herself hurtling towards the edge.

  And then, suddenly, he twisted his hand and sent her over. Spinning and spiralling, like a twisting Catherine wheel, and every bit as beautiful. She braced against the tiles just to keep herself from falling, and she gave herself up to every last, perfect second.

  She had no idea how long it took her to come back down, but when she did Logan was still there, holding her, kissing her.

  Twisting around in his arms until she was facing him, she looped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, rocking her hips into him until his hardness was pressed into her newly wet heat. He grunted. A low, wholly male sound of appreciation that made her feel the hunger all over again.

  Pulling back from him, she flashed him a wicked smile that she hadn’t even known she possessed, and dropped to the shower floor, right in front of him. With her hands braced against his mouth-wateringly muscular thighs, she poked out her cheeky tongue and licked him—all the way up his length.

  * * *

  Watching Kat run her clever tongue over him, from base to tip, was one of the sexiest things Logan had ever seen.

  He’d been pleasured this way in the past, yet no woman had ever come close to having the effect on him that Kat had. Physically and emotionally. She made his legs feel as though they weren’t quite there and his brain feel as though it was swimming.

  He felt light-headed and greedy all at once. Not helped by that dark, almost hungry expression in her eyes as she knelt there, looking up at him. And then she suddenly tipped her head forward and took him right into her mouth, and he thought he was about to come apart there and then.

  Sliding his fingers into her hair, more to anchor himself than to exert any pressure on Kat, he watched her as she used her mouth, her tongue and her hands to set a cataclysmic pace that he feared would make him lose what little control he’d thought he had left. She licked him, sucked him and even grazed her teeth on him, just the right amount to have him groaning with the sheer gluttony of it.

  Then she gripped him tighter and he realised he wasn’t going to keep a rein on himself at all if he didn’t stop her. Now.

  ‘No.’ Pulling back, he cupped his hand at the back of her head and urged her to stop. ‘Not like that.’

  She looked up at him with an unexpectedly devilish pout.

  ‘Spoilsport. Like what, then?’

  It was possibly the most sensual response he could have dreamed of. And it was nearly his downfall.

  Shutting off the water, he grabbed a towel, patting briefly and only half effectively at them both, and loving the rumble of her laughter. Then he scooped her up and carried her out to the bedroom, lowering her almost reverently on the bed.

  ‘Like this,’ he growled, moving his body to cover hers as he nudged her legs apart with his knee.

  ‘This,’ she sighed dreamily, shifting her hips and winding her legs around his waist obligingly, ‘is something I can live with.’

  ‘Wait,’ he groaned, reaching over to the bedside table and retrieving a pack of condoms.

  ‘Brand-new. Untouched,’ she noted, and he rather liked what that said about them. And about what they were doing.

  ‘Brand-new,’ he confirmed, deftly sorting himself out despite his fingers feeling as though they were fumbling in his haste.

  And then, done, he thrust inside her with long, steady strokes, a sense of triumph punching through him as she gripped his shoulders and arched her back in pleasure.

  One thought coursed through him.

  Mine.

  It was misplaced, and inappropriate, and Logan didn’t care. He could tell himself that it was just about the physical, the sexual, the chemistry, but there was clearly a part of him that wanted more.

  That wanted Kat to want more.

  But it was ludicrous, and this wasn’t the time to think about such complications. Besides, he didn’t want to think about them. He just wanted to concentrate on the here and the now.

  She was already so wet and ready for him he had no idea how long he could last.

  He pulled out and slid in again, slightly deeper this time, feeling her stretch gloriously around him, seeing her head push back into the bed as she gasped his name. When he bent his head to take one proud nipple into his mouth, she raked her hands down his back and cupped his backside, taking him even deeper.

  ‘Careful.’ He barely recognised his own voice, it sounded so feral. ‘I don’t think I can do this for long.’

  ‘I’m counting on it,’ she bit out, lifting her hips up to meet him, rocking into him, tightening around him.

  It was too much. She was too much.

  His whole body was going up in flames, and all he could do was thrust into her, matching her movement for movement, hearing her groan as he did, even her breath entwined with his.

  Then she was urging him on, curving her back up to press her breast into his mouth, clutching at him and making the most erotic sounds. He saw precisely the moment the wave overtook her. The way her eyes closed and she moaned and bucked.

  Mine. Always mine.

  As she cried out his name, he finally let go and followed her into perfect oblivion. And he wondered how he’d ever thought one night would be enough.

  How was he supposed to go back to the real world after this?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘YOU DON’T HAVE any Christmas decorations at all,’ he noted a couple of hours later when they’d finally stopped reaching for each other and realised they were hungry for something else altogether.

  So now they were sitting in her pretty, homely kitchen-living-room-diner, eating take-out that they’d ordered and chatting as if they were an actual couple.

  Logan realised he liked the sound of that more than he might have thought.

  It was peculiar, the way Kat seemed to have unlocked some door inside him, and suddenly all these possibilities that he would have balked at—even up until a few weeks ago—no longer felt so outlandish.

  It was like a light was spilling out from behind that door, with Kat the source of it. And Logan wasn’t quite sure how to contain it all. Or even if he wanted to.

  ‘I didn’t get around to it,’ she answered automatically, and they both knew she was lying. ‘Fine. I didn’t want to. Christmas isn’t...well, it isn’t my favourite time of year.’

  She didn�
��t offer anything more but this time he wasn’t prepared to let it go.

  ‘Really? That surprises me.’ He shot her a grin. ‘You have a ton of photos of what is clearly a great family unit. And the way you’ve been getting into Christmas with Jamie I’d have thought you loved this time of year.’

  ‘Don’t flash me your best charm-the-awkward-patient grin!’ She arched her eyebrows at him, but she was laughing. ‘But, yes, they are photos of my family.’

  ‘One of your brothers is in the UK and one is in Oz?’

  ‘You remembered?’ She seemed surprised.

  ‘I remembered the fondness with which you talked about them. I know you miss them.’

  ‘I do.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I keep promising myself I’ll visit them. Maybe one of them next year, and the other the year after.’

  ‘If you don’t have your own family.’

  He didn’t know what had made him say it but her face clouded over instantly.

  ‘I won’t have my own family.’ Her teeth were gritted.

  It was as though she was trying to hold the admission back but couldn’t contain it.

  Surely he ought to feel guilt that he was the person prying something so clearly personal out of her? But he didn’t feel anything like guilt. If anything, he felt something urging him on all the more.

  ‘Want to talk about it, Kat?’

  For a moment she just stared at her almost empty plate. Abruptly, her head snapped up and she glowered at him.

  ‘No. I don’t.’

  ‘You’re sure? Because you look like you want to talk.’

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  ‘We went through this in that pavilion. We agreed—again—that this thing between us was about sex. Nothing more.’

  ‘It’s just a question, Kat.’ He feigned nonchalance.

  ‘A very personal question. We had sex, I opened my body to you.’ Her words were choppy. Unrehearsed. ‘I didn’t agree to open my personal life to you.’

  The silence stretched out between them, and he could feel her fury and something else—something altogether too much like fear—bouncing around the room. He wanted so badly to understand, even though he knew it was none of his business. But not now. Not yet.