Gambling on the Bodyguard

by Sarah Ballance

  Just a job.

  Not a life.

  Not Ellie.

  His eyes stung, and his throat tightened. It was like the pain of losing Gracie, only this time he wasn’t watching someone go.

  This time he was pushing.

  But not yet, dammit. Not yet.

  He wound his fingers through her hair and slanted his head, deepening the kiss. She moaned, the sweet vibration rocking him to his core. By the time the elevator doors slid open on her floor, he was rock hard. He walked her backward down the hall, kissing her, both of them stumbling then landing solidly against her door. Just like they’d been downstairs, when he’d been buried in her, nothing between them but heat. He’d never, ever had sex without a condom. Had no idea it could feel like that. But it wouldn’t with just anyone. Couldn’t.

  It had to be her.

  She managed to wrangle her key card from her little purse. He took it without looking, trying and failing three or four times before the door finally unlocked. They fell through, and he dug the condom out of his pocket. That he’d put it there made him wince. What had he been planning? To hand her over to Focker and throw in the rubber as a parting gift?

  This, dumbass. You wanted this. Because if Focker had fucking touched Ellie, Jax would have torn him apart with his bare hands.

  She wasn’t making fast enough progress shedding her dress, so he helped. Stripped her in one swoop, leaving her standing there in her heels and thong, the latter not quite back to rights after their encounter in the corridor.

  Oh. Fuck. Yes.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. He scooped her so she straddled him, riding him backward to the bed. Tossed her down, then proceeded to kiss and lick his way down to her thong, taking a long, languid detour around each breast. The more she moaned and grabbed at his hair, the more he slowed. He liked feeling her squirm. Liked the way she begged without a word. He took her thong off with his teeth. Fucked her with his tongue in the process, and she liked it so much he feasted. Probably wouldn’t have guessed he’d enjoy the taste so much, knowing half of what left her so wet her had been him, but the intimacy got to him.

  It got to him a little too much. He pulled back and made a halfhearted attempt to wipe his face, then tore into the condom. One of the giant ribbons hanging off the hotel caught his eye through the window. God, this place. This woman.

  He didn’t even bother undressing all the way. Just tossed the rented jacket and the ruined shirt aside, kicked off his shoes, and opened his fly. Once the condom was on, he crawled on top of her to find her grinning.

  “What?”

  “You’re smiling.”

  He took the accusation in stride. “I told you, Colorado. Only you.”

  “I like being that person.”

  “I like it too.” And that was dangerous. Fortunately, he had a hell of a distraction. He caught the back of her knees and lifted her legs, settling between them with her ankles thrown over his shoulders. “Nice stripper heels.”

  She gasped as he pushed inside her, but despite the gouges she’d just left on his arms, she grinned. “You have a weird thing about noticing shoes. And I am so not a stripper.”

  “Good. Because I hate to think I’d have to share you with…anyone.”

  “Not ever,” she said.

  The words meant something to him. Something he didn’t care to think too much about, and probably couldn’t if he tried. Not buried balls deep in a hot, tight slice of heaven. He rolled against her, just enjoying the sensation. Knowing if he dropped her legs and pounded into her like he wanted, he’d be toast in seconds. Maybe less.

  Been there, done that. But not nearly enough.

  She was losing it. He wondered if she’d even come in the hall, or if all that shaking had been him. He was pretty sure she had, but he’d have to make it up to her just in case. She was definitely headed in the right direction. Every time he leaned forward and increased the pressure on her clit, her grip on the bed tightened. He loosened his hold on her legs, allowing them to widen around him, and he changed the angle, pushing deeper, grinding harder.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  Her hips jerked. He leaned in, letting her legs fall aside. Found her clit with his thumb and her mouth with his tongue. Tasted her, swallowed her cries as she fell apart. He managed to hang on until she’d stopped pulsing around him, then he let go. After what she’d done to him in the corridor, he was surprised he had anything left to give, but he didn’t think he’d ever stop. Didn’t think he wanted to.

  Their kisses grew languid. Teasing. He eased out of her, then rolled to the side and drew her into his arms. “Two quickies in a combined five minutes, plus the one yesterday. Either we’re really good at this or really bad.”

  She smiled. Lit the room. “You’re amazing at this.”

  “Not so amazing,” he said. “More of a victim of whatever you’ve done to me.”

  “Can you stay?” she asked softly. “Just the night. I won’t ask anything more.”

  “I might have to deal with the police.”

  “But until you do?”

  “I’ll stay,” he said. Some sacrifice. “Just let me go take care of this mess.”

  She smiled through passion-drenched, half-lidded eyes.

  God, he was screwed.

  He went to her bathroom and tossed the condom. Noticed a bra and a pair of underwear hanging on the towel rack. The latter garment was covered with little yellow flowers. Didn’t look much like her. Didn’t matter. He preferred her naked.

  Naked and his.

  When he went back in the room she had the room service menu open. “Do they have filet here?”

  “Filet of…?”

  “Mignon. With the bacon.”

  He shook his head, failing to dislodge the laugh that threatened escape. “There’s a place down the strip with the best I’ve ever had. I can call.”

  “I’d kind of rather stay here,” she said.

  His gaze caroused the curves and soft planes of her body. Yeah, he could get behind that plan. “I was going to say we’d order in.”

  Her eyes widened. “They deliver?”

  “I know the chef.”

  “In that case, make it happen.”

  He patted his pocket. Found his cell. Was surprised it survived the ride. He’d have to up his game a little. “Wine?”

  “None for me, but help yourself.”

  He placed his call. Got an ear full of shit about trying to turn fine dining into fast food. Told the chef almighty to take his time and it wouldn’t be fast. The chef hung up on him, muttering something in French Jax didn’t understand. A couple of minutes later, he got a bill via email. He paid double for a tip, then tossed the phone aside.

  Ellie sat all twisted in a sheet, watching him. “Just like that?”

  “It’ll be a little while.”

  She melted into a grin. “However will we pass the time?”

  There was always that whole on his knees and begging for forgiveness thing. He hated that she might not have realized it yet. Maybe she was on birth control. Maybe she trusted he was clean and didn’t need him to say it, but that bugged him too. He hadn’t earned that kind of trust. He wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t need it. He’d be gone by morning, and so would she.

  “Not with another quickie,” he said. “The next time I make love to you, it’s going to last all night.”

  She stared at him, bewildered. Frozen.

  What the hell had he… Oh, shit. He’d never uttered those words in his life. Some people threw them around generically, but not him.

  And she was looking at him like she knew it.

  He picked up his ruined shirt and tossed it to her. So much for naked. He still preferred it, but naked presented its own problems.

  She caught it. Studied it. “Getting tired of the view?”

  “No, baby. But if you stay like that, that headboard is going to be hitting the wall too hard for us to hear the door when the steak arrives.”

  She
relaxed into a grin. Tugged on his shirt. Couldn’t help the ruined buttons.

  He took her hand. Spun her like they were dancing, only dancing wasn’t a thing he did. He held her there anyway, the two of them swaying to music that didn’t exist. Her hair fell in soft waves, tickling his nose. The room was as dark as could be with the city glowing through the open drapes, but he saw her. He saw everything.

  Everything but tomorrow without her in it.

  All the more reason to make it happen.

  He pulled her closer, body to body, flesh to flesh. The shirt hadn’t done its job. The tantalizing swath of exposed skin included a partial view of full breasts. Tight nipples. A mark he’d left. He wanted to dive right in and leave another one, but he settled for having her fully in his arms. And holding her like that made him realize he didn’t hug people, either. He didn’t hug. Didn’t dance. Didn’t make love.

  Didn’t die.

  He’d yet to process what happened in the ballroom. He faced relatively few confrontations. Most had been with women, none of whom had been packing more than an irrational idea that laying eyes—or hands—on a celebrity would somehow make her life complete. The loaded weapon in a room full of hundreds of people had been a new thing. Despite his happenstance entry into the field of personal security, he’d subsequently trained for the job. He knew weapons. Could kick ass in hand-to-hand combat. Didn’t think twice about lunging for the guy with the gun, but in the back of his mind he hadn’t seen his client or the ballroom full of people.

  He’d seen Ellie.

  Couldn’t stop.

  He’d never escape her scent. Never forget her taste or the sweet slide of her body against his.

  Never wanted to.

  Had to.

  He loosened his hold, only to find himself staring into sweet, questioning eyes. They fluttered closed when he kissed her. The urge to ease her onto the bed was strong, but he hadn’t been kidding when he said they wouldn’t hear the food arrive. So he kept his tour of her mouth light, despite the way his heart pounded and body demanded more.

  “You think you’ll think of me next time you play the slots?” she asked.

  “I don’t play the slots,” he said. “But to answer your question, I won’t ever see another one and not think of you.”

  Another slot machine. Another sunset. Another anything. He’d think of her forever. This thing between them didn’t have a chance in hell, but it had one more night.

  And not a damned minute more.

  …

  After an incredible dinner, Ellie almost felt normal again. If, that was, normal could even be a thing with tall, dark, and sexy sharing her room. Her bed. She couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done the night before. She still couldn’t believe she’d told him about her ex, but what was even more unbelievable was his reaction. Whatever second thoughts had him leaving that morning and trying to hand her over to Focker in the afternoon had clearly taken a backseat to…what? She wasn’t sure what he’d done. Or maybe she was just afraid to admit to herself, but there wasn’t much point in holding on to the denial.

  He’d said it.

  Next time I make love to you.

  After they’d eaten, she’d excused herself to brush her teeth. When she returned, he stood at one of the large windows, his gaze trained over the city crawling far below.

  “What do you see out there?” she asked.

  “Possibilities.”

  The answer surprised her. “What about in here?”

  He turned from the window. His appraisal ate her alive. “You scare me, Colorado.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “I like that part.”

  “I see something I’m not ready to see,” he admitted.

  “I like that even better.”

  He touched her face. Pushed back her hair. “I can’t, baby. I can’t do it.”

  She’d known that, but the words didn’t hurt any less. “I hope you’re not talking about tonight.”

  He broke into a grin. “I can definitely do it tonight.”

  “Then let’s forget what happens after.” Twenty four hours from then, she’d be back home in Minturn with no expectations that her memories could do this man justice. She needed this now. Needed him. “Let’s just have tonight. I’m okay with that.”

  “I hope okay is an understatement.” He gently pushed his shirt from her shoulders, his gaze following it as it fell to the floor, then took his time working his way back up. Their limited time was probably a good thing. Her nipples were likely to pop off if they didn’t get a reprieve, and while she didn’t have a decent view of her clit, she had no doubt it was next in line. Every cell of her body was on edge around him. The good kind of edge. The kind that meant orgasm was about to happen.

  He still watched her, and she realized two things. One that, he still wore pants. Two, that she’d never before undressed him. She did that now, easing her fingertips to touch his belly while he sucked in a quick breath. She took her time with the button, figuring he was past due for a little tortuous anticipation. When the zipper was down, she reached into his pants and wrapped her hands around him. Both hands. With room to spare. He hissed a breath, but when she looked up at him he managed to pry his eyes out of the back of his head and offer a grin.

  She stroked him a couple of times, enjoying the stretch of silken flesh over steel. “Did I really do this to you?”

  “Nonstop.”

  “What are you going to do tomorrow?” she teased. The words escaped before realized how much they didn’t need to be said.

  His eyes flashed dark, but just as quickly returned to what had become a molten shade of blue. “Tomorrow I’m going to have a hell of a kickstand problem. Tonight, I have the most beautiful, sexy woman ever to hit the Vegas strip.”

  She let his pants fall to the floor. “I highly doubt that.”

  He kicked the pants to the side. “Believe it. I do.”

  “I believe in you.”

  “Right now I’m hard to deny.” He grabbed the sides of her head, holding her gently while he laid a fierce kiss on her. All the lazy let’s just stand here and be naked had apparently come to an end. When he finally released her, her lips felt deliciously raw, and he was yanking sheets from the bed. The linens didn’t stand a chance against that man’s muscles, but they didn’t go far. As soon as he’d cleared enough of the bedding for the two of them to fit on the exposed portion of the bottom sheet, he turned around and hoisted her to straddle his belly while he carried her to the mattress. He managed to lower her against the cool fabric with ease, and she didn’t let him get away. He settled on top of her, his erection a prominent distraction pressed between them. “You feel that? That’s real.”

  “I want you to look for what’s real,” she said. “When this is over, I mean. I want that for you.”

  “There’s nothing else I want to find,” he said. “Just be with me tonight.”

  “I thought that was my line.”

  He grinned and dipped his fingers between their bodies. “You’re always so wet. I’m starting to think it’s more of a medical condition than anything for which I should take credit.”

  “Trust me, it’s all you. Now could you, I don’t know, use it?”

  He laughed and reached past her to snag a condom, then leaned to the side to roll it on. And on. And on. He was so huge, so thick, that she was practically panting by the time he’d sheathed himself. When he rolled back onto her, her legs were already apart.

  He accepted the silent invitation without a word. Just sank into her.

  She clutched his shoulders so tightly she left marks, and he started rocking against her, setting fire to her clit with every nudge forward. He muttered a string of profanity with which she fully agreed, then increased the depth of his strokes. Still so slow, so sensual. So deep. She felt the loss every time he left her and the unrelenting pleasure of his return. All while he kissed her neck, her breasts. Held her with strong arms. Watched her, blue eyes absolutely smoldering.


  She threaded the fingers of one hand through his hair. With the other, she palmed his ass, urging the pace. He made a sound that sounded a little like nuh uh before shifting ever so slightly to the side, taking her with him. He snagged her higher leg behind the knee and almost decimated her with the new angle. He was so deep, pumping so much heat between her thighs that it was a miracle there weren’t fire alarms going off throughout the building.

  “Harder,” she muttered. She hadn’t any idea if he liked pillow talk, and at the moment didn’t much care. The pressure of him filling her body was exquisite, and despite his relatively controlled pace, she was headed full steam for a meltdown.

  “Harder?”

  “Yes,” she panted. “That headboard thing you were talking about?”

  “Yeah.” He managed to end up on his knees without missing a thrust.

  “That thing where we wouldn’t hear a knock on the door. Do that.”

  He shoved a pillow under her ass. “Do that?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He withdrew slow, then slammed into her. “Like that?”

  “Yes.”

  Rather than repeat, he just hung out. Ground against her clit. “You sure?”

  “Yes. Yes.”

  He thrust hard again. Just once. “That angle okay for you?”

  “For the love of all that is holy, yes.”

  Magic words. He finally listened. Finally wrecked her, hips pounding, the room echoing with the smack of bare skin. She was halfway gone when he lowered himself, changing the angle, adopting one that put all the pressure on her clit. She felt like she’d been shot out of a cannon when she came, delirious and dazed, her tightly wound body dissolving into bonelessness.

  He kissed her neck, brushed her lips. Held her, still fully inside her. She might as well have been paper in the wind, for all the control she had left, but there was no mistaking his strength. His possession.

  He released her leg, and she instinctively stretched, indulging for just a moment in the feel of the cool sheets against her hot skin. Then he tugged the blankets over his back and, like he had the night before, settled into her body. Into her soul. He kissed her. Made love to her. Took her for all she was worth, time and time again, like they had forever.