Her Protector

by Rianna Campbell

  Paired with knee high heeled boots in a creamy tan color and the overall effect was inspiring. There were all sorts of inspired thoughts running through his head at the moment. Most of them involved those boots next to his ears and that dress on the floor.

  “Beautiful.” She looked away, blushing. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her. She looked up at him in surprise and he kissed her softly.

  “You look breathtaking.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder. “Exquisite.” He kissed her collarbone and she shivered. “Perfect.” He kissed the hollow of her throat and she sighed. “Enchanting.” He kissed the side of her neck and she moaned softly.

  “You, lass, look positively edible.” He whispered in her ear before taking her lobe in his mouth and nibbling it gently. She gasped and it was all he could do not to pick her up and haul her to the bed. But women generally got peevish about spoiled hair and makeup before a night out. So he came up with a better idea.

  He skimmed his hands down her hips until he reached the hem of her dress. He inched the hem upward over her smooth, bare thighs.

  “What are you doing?” She asked, her voice no more than a breathy whisper.

  “Hush, love.” He murmured, kissing just below her ear. He nuzzled and kissed her neck, inhaling the warm sweet scent of her skin as he bunched the material of her dress around her hips. He took a step back and noticed she wore a pair of silky blue underwear trimmed with lace. He crouched before her and hooked his fingers beneath the material at her hips, sliding them down. They caught between her thighs and he nudged her stance to widen slightly. She silently complied and soon she was balancing, hand on his shoulder, as she stepped out of them. He pressed a soft kiss to the tiny strip of hair on her mound before he stood, pocketing his stolen trophy.

  “You stole my undies.” She said in disbelief as he smoothed the material of her dress back down over her hips. Her voice was husky and her breathing was quick and shallow.

  “Yes. I did.” He grinned at her. She blushed and his already stiffening erection jumped against the seam of his trousers.

  “You want me to go out dancing and partying, without underwear?” She tried to sound calm and maybe slightly annoyed, but he could see the glint of excitement in her eyes.

  “Yes.” He nodded. “Your skirt is long enough. No one will know but us.” He put his hands on her waist and slipped them up until his thumbs gently brushed the undersides of her breasts. He leaned in, his mouth close to her ear. “It’ll be our little secret. Who knows? Maybe we’ll find a quiet corner of the pub later on.”

  Connor felt her shudder and knew she was as aroused by the idea as he was. He had never been what he’d consider adventurous about sex. Sex was sex, mostly. He’d never had sex in public. He’d never wanted to.

  But he wanted Alexandra everywhere. All the time. It wasn’t just that he found her irresistible, he wanted the world to know she was his-- his to protect, his to pleasure. It was a jumble of protective instinct, to keep her safe, and male possessiveness, to keep her his. He was protective by nature, that was all. He was protective of Angel, all his guys, his father, even most of his clients. It was who he was and what he did. That had to be it.

  He gave her a quick kiss and stepped back.

  “Get your coat, gorgeous. It’s a wee bit nippy.” He winked. She giggled and he thought his heart would burst.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Connor delivered Alexandra into Meagan’s waiting hands and immediately found himself shooed to the bar to wait out the evening. He ordered a pint, a good stout pint, thank God and all the saints, and tried to keep his anxiety in check.

  The pub was loud, dark and crowded, which made Connor’s skin crawl. He felt a thumping bass line attempting to rattle his skeleton loose and somewhere there was a strobe light flashing away in a valiant attempt to send everyone into an epileptic fit.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and reminded himself he was in England, not Iraq. He was in a pub, not the desert. He was still a little too aware of his heart pounding, and his ears were ringing slightly, but he focused instead on Alexandra and it seemed to calm him a bit.

  She was dancing with a gaggle of other women. Someone had provided her with a hot pink sash that read ‘Bitch of Honor,’ to match Meagan’s ‘Bridezilla’ sash. They seemed to be having a grand time and the drinks were flowing freely.

  Alexandra was a sight. She was laughing and dancing, looking freer and more unrestrained than he’d ever seen her. She tossed her head back and laughed at something Meagan said and Connor couldn’t take his eyes off her. She lit up the room.

  “Now there’s a man in love if I’ve ever seen one.”

  A man sat down beside him, tall and blonde. And very British. He didn’t wait for Connor to confirm or deny, which was good, because he wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “Which one’s yours?” Yours. He liked the way that sounded.

  “The one in the blue dress with the dark hair and boots. She’s mine.” Connor smiled.

  “Alexandra?” The look Ryan gave him was wary and assessing.

  “Yeah.”

  “You must be Connor then.” He extended his hand and Connor took it.

  “Which makes you Ryan.”

  “Indeed.” Ryan nodded. “Meagan mentioned you.” Connor wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “She’s a good friend to Alexandra.”

  “Thick as thieves, those too.” Ryan grinned.

  “You’re a good friend too, from what I’ve heard.” Connor said, sipping his pint. Ryan gave him a curious look and then frowned.

  “What have you heard, precisely?” Ryan sipped his own pint.

  “That you helped her out, maybe even saved her life.” Connor peered into his beer. “I told her I wanted to shake your hand, and now I have. And I want to thank you. Thank you for bein’ there when she needed you.”

  “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, mate.” Ryan clapped him hard on the back. “Only wish I’d done more when I had the chance.” Ryan gave Connor a grin that was positively murderous and Connor smiled back. He definitely liked Ryan.

  “I ken what ye mean.”

  “Good. Then you also ken that I’m obliged to inform you that if you hurt our Alexandra--”

  “You’ll have me bollocks. I understand.”

  “I won’t, but my blushing bride over there most certainly will.” Ryan chuckled. “She may be small but she is fierce. I, however, will be obliged to help my lovely wife hide your body, as any good husband should.”

  “Oh, of course.” Connor nodded. “I’d do the same in your shoes.”

  “Good to know.”

  “What are ye doin’ here anyway? I thought this was only for the lasses?”

  “Oh, it is. But this is revenge, you see. My stag do was last night. My mates took me out for a pub crawl and got me properly pissed, before dragging me to a back room at the last pub. In wheels this enormous cake, on goes the music, and then out pops, not a stripper, but my stunning fiance.”

  Connor laughed. That must have been quite the surprise.

  “So you’re crashin’ her hen night?”

  “Oh, no. Not just crashing. You see, she was wearing very little beyond cake frosting in front of a room full of men. Men that I have to see and be polite too, and certainly not punch in the face. It’s damned difficult to do when you know they’ve seen your soon-to-be-wife in next to nothing.”

  “Dinnae tell me you’re gonna return the favor.” Connor grimaced.

  “Oh, yes, my friend. Our lovely Alex even went to the trouble of cancelling tonight’s hired entertainment.” Our Alex. He liked the sound of that as well.

  “You dragged Alexandra into the line of fire? Not very nice of you.”

  “She volunteered.”

  “I’m sure she did.” Connor chuckled.

  A rowdy cheer went up from the dancefloor and the ladies began herding Meagan toward the back of the club.

  “That’s my cue.” Ryan wink
ed and sauntered away. He was tall and athletic and Connor was sure he could easily stand in for that particular type of entertainment and no one would complain. Even knowing he was engaged and getting married tomorrow morning, he didn’t like the idea of Alexandra watching him strip.

  He decided, for safety’s sake, he really should try to move closer to the private rooms. There was a back entrance over there that he really should keep eyes on. He was just getting up when he noticed Alexandra walking toward him.

  Time slowed down and the crowded dance floor seemed to part just for her. She was smiling, cheeks flushed from dancing. Her dress had ridden up to expose several inches of perfect skin on her thighs and he immediately recalled that a thin layer of fabric was all that covered her most intimate places.

  He stood before he thought twice about what he was doing. His body was moving on autopilot. As soon as he could reach her, he slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her to him. He slipped a hand behind her head, his fingers sifting through the soft strands of her hair.

  He leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t a conscious choice, it was something his body just did-- just needed to do-- like breathing. He molded her lips with his, tasting one lip and then the other. She made a soft sighing noise and opened for him. He growled from deep in his chest and he angled his mouth over hers to get deeper. It was maddening how much he wanted her.

  Always.

  He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers as they both regained the ability to breathe and speak.

  “Let’s get out of here.” Alexandra whispered. Her grin was mischievous.

  “Surely the party issnae over?”

  “Close enough. Once Meagan gets her surprise I doubt she’ll stick around long.”

  “Aye, I met her surprise. I like him.”

  “Good.” She gave him a quick smacking kiss that had him chasing her for more. They definitely needed to get out of here.

  “Come.” He took her hand and led her to the car, hustling her inside.

  As he drove back to the hotel, he forced himself to pay attention and drive with caution. Then she put her hand on his thigh. He glanced at her and she was turned toward him, one hand on his leg, the other skimming the neckline of her dress.

  Minx.

  “Eyes on the road.” She quirked an eyebrow and he obeyed.

  Focus. No accidents, no tickets.

  She kneaded his thigh, digging her fingers into the muscle which had involuntary tensed under her hand. She moved it upward until her fingers were ever so close to brushing his aching cock beneath the fly of his trousers. She was going to kill him.

  “Lex.” He was sure he’d meant it as a warning, but it came out more as a plea.

  “Hush.” She said, scooting around to face him a bit more. Her skirt was rucked up past midthigh. She was close enough he could simply reach over… No. He shook himself mentally.

  “It’s not safe to dist-- God, woman.”

  Her hand had closed the minute distance and she was squeezing him gently and rhythmically. His hips bucked involuntarily and nothing short of experience driving in a combat zone kept him from veering into a line of cars parked along the street.

  “Alexandra.” He growled, and this time it did sound like a warning. A warning and a promise.

  She gave him a cherubic smile, all sweet innocence, and removed her hand from his person. And put it on herself instead. She kept up the sweeping of fingers at her neckline, and added a casual petting of her thigh. Just a fingertip at first, then two. She began fiddling with the hem of her dress which, by now, just barely covered her lack of underwear.

  “You’re playing with fire, lass.” He warned. She smiled at him, and spread her legs, inching that naughty hand of hers up under her skirt.

  He tried, and failed, to ignore the slow circular motions of her hand. He tried and failed not to notice the musky sweetness of her arousal filling the space more and more with each passing minute.

  By the time he found a spot to park, he was ready to explode. She had straightened her skirt and now sat prim, and very smug, in the passenger seat, waiting to see if he’d pounce on her here or wait until they had more privacy. He decided to do neither.

  He opened her door and waited patiently while she got out. He took her hand and, casual as you please, led her into the hotel and headed for the elevators. She was beginning to look a little wary and confused. He gave her a wolfish grin as the elevator doors closed.

  They were alone. He tugged her back against him, holding her close enough to feel what all her clever tricks had done to him. She gasped and then pressed back into him with a slight arch to her back.

  Temptress.

  He caressed the back of her thigh with his free hand and felt her shudder. He slid it up and up until he was palming one delectable buttock. The elevator chimed and the doors began to open. She froze, but he continued to knead and shape the taut flesh in his hands. An older couple boarded the lift with polite nods, and then began to ignore them in a way that is only acceptable-- nay, required-- on an elevator.

  Alexandra began to relax, noting that they clearly hadn’t seen what he was up to. He smiled against her neck and placed a kiss to her nape as he slid his hand between her thighs. He shifted slightly, using one booted foot to subtly widen her stance.

  He started slowly, observing her reactions closely for any sign he was pushing her too far, too fast. Her breathing was even, but a little fast. Her heart was pounding, but her skin was flushed, not pale. He began dragging one thick finger back and forth, teasing. She stifled a moan and it came out as a squeak.

  And she was wet. Gloriously, maddeningly wet. He had to stifle his own groan of triumph as he slid his middle finger easily into her heat. She sagged slightly against him as he began a slow thrusting of his finger and he relished the perfect weight of her being held up by his arms. Her head came back against his shoulder and he turned and kissed her temple.

  She turned to him, eyes glazed and heavy lidded.

  “I’ve got ye.” He whispered, sliding a second finger into her. She made no sound, but he felt her press her legs outward, opening further for him.

  God, I love this woman.

  That thought did not surprise him. He’d suspected it for days. What shocked him was how deeply he felt it and how good it felt to say the words, even if just to himself.

  He forced himself to keep up a slow steady rhythm as the lift rose. The older couple departed and were replaced by a small group. Finally, a small eternity later, they arrived at their own floor. He discreetly removed his hand from under her skirt, and followed her from the elevator, keeping her in front of him to disguise his painfully aroused state.

  He unlocked the door and locked it again behind them. He found himself pushed against the door, Alexandra’s hands in his hair, her mouth claiming his like a brand.

  “I can’t believe you did that.” She rasped.

  ✽✽✽

  “I can’t believe I let you do that.” She added. She really couldn’t. She couldn’t believe that she’d teased him in the car on the way here, or that he’d tortured her in the elevator with other people standing inches away. And she couldn’t believe how much she had loved every second of it.

  For years, ever since the most humiliating, horrible night of her life, sex had been an ordeal. The few times she’d tried to explain her issues, it was just humiliating and painful. Telling Connor had been humiliating and painful too. But Connor made it… worth it. He didn’t approach sex with her as a minefield. He wasn’t overly cautious, he wasn’t hesitant.

  He trusted her to tell him when it wasn’t right-- when she was scared, or uncomfortable. And she trusted him to listen. That was what had always been missing. She’d never been able to fully trust any other man since that night.

  With Connor, everything just… worked. It was amazing and spontaneous and hot. But it was also… safe. She was safe with him. She kissed him, deeply, sweetly, trying to say what she couldn’t trust her voice to
say. Trying to thank him for giving her hope and making her feel joy for the first time in almost a decade.

  He picked her up and carried her to the bed. He set her down with a lingering kiss and began removing her boots. Once she was stripped down to her skin, he simply stood staring. Her cheeks flamed and she wanted to cover herself.

  He’d seen her naked, but he’d never spent so much time just looking. It was unnerving.

  “You are so beautiful, Alexandra.” He said quietly. His gaze was focused and intense. His eyes so dark they didn’t even appear blue anymore, simply black. He continued to look at her as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He didn’t take his eyes off of her as he toed off his boots and undid his belt.

  By the time he finally stepped free of his pants, Alexandra had felt his gaze on every inch of her skin as if it had been a physical touch. He finally put his arms around her and simply held her for a long moment. His hands worked up and down her back and her arms, over the back of her neck, down her hip to cup her bottom. It was as if he was trying to touch her everywhere at once-- be everywhere at once. It was wonderful.

  He kissed her. It was slow and sweet and so tender that she wanted to cry. She felt cherished, cared for… loved? She felt all the broken places inside her heart mend just a bit more. His touch, his kiss, the way he looked at her, restored more pieces of her shattered soul.

  He urged her to lie back on the bed and she didn’t feel a single second’s hesitation. She never thought she would ever want the weight of a man on top of her again. She thought she would always feel suffocated and terrified to be in that position. Now she wanted it with every fiber of her being.

  She closed her eyes at the revelation. She wanted him to make slow, sweet love to her while he surrounded her with his strength. From him, it would be protective, not threatening. She would be safe, not exposed. But Connor didn’t push. He gently rolled her to her side and pressed himself against her from behind.

  She opened her eyes and was surprised to find that she had a full view of herself in the mirror above the dresser. She took in her wild hair, her smudged makeup, and her soft stomach and quickly closed her eyes again.