His to Protect (The Guard Book 3)

by Em Petrova

  “My ward…she’s involved in some heavy shit.”

  “Oh fuck. Is it drugs?” Madeline’s question wouldn’t surprise anybody with the number of celebrities suffering from addiction.

  “No. You’re not gonna believe it…” He looked toward the hall leading to the bathroom. “She’s been rescuing underage girls from an underground marriage ring.”

  More silence. Then Madeline said, “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  “Wish to hell I was. I helped her save a girl. I’d never believe it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

  “Fill us in,” Oz ordered.

  As he related all Sloane told him—from the tale about her father and sister to the events of the night they saved Lauren—he pictured Madeline and Oz seated in the church, Madeline typing frantically on her computer while Oz began forming a mission in his mind.

  Between all of them, this shit would end—but North didn’t know if he’d ever believe Sloane to be safe from these evil people. Men like Flint and any he called sidekicks didn’t tolerate being bested, especially by a woman they considered weak.

  His chest swelled with pride. Weak? Hell, anyone calling Sloane weak was a fool.

  “What can we do?” Oz asked. “What do you need?”

  “Just get all the intel on this Flint that you can. I want to know what direction the hair grows on his ass…because I’m going in there and set each one of them on fire before I kill the son of a bitch.”

  Madeline issued a low breath. “The sick, twisted motherfucker deserves it.”

  “Yes, he fucking does. And I’ll be the one to end it. First, we need the guy alive so I can find Sloane’s sister.”

  “I’ll gather everything I can on her. I’ll start searching the surrounding states now,” Madeline told him.

  “Good. And thanks—to both of you.”

  “It’s what we do, North. Watch your back.”

  He straightened as he heard the shower turn off. “I’ll be in touch.”

  For a moment, he stood in the middle of the kitchen where his own momma prepared summer dinners and Sunday breakfasts, wondering why—really wondering why—he chose this place to bring Sloane.

  His thoughts didn’t touch on the question for long, because she emerged from the bathroom and wandered into the kitchen.

  At first he didn’t think he could look at her. If he did, he might expose his fury still spilling over from the conversation with Oz and Madeline. Or Sloane might see something altogether different, and possibly more frightening. His emotions ran close to the surface.

  “Are you all right?” she asked softly.

  He glanced up to see her bare toes curled on the worn hardwood floor. Then he continued upward, taking in the same black sport leggings she’d worn earlier and a different top, this one barely covering her midriff and in a peachy hue that made her skin glow.

  He inflated his chest, but the kitchen didn’t seem to hold enough air to fill it. Nodding, he held out a hand, and she crossed the room to take it. The instant he closed his fingers around hers, he relaxed a bit.

  I’m taking care of my ward. I’m only more at peace because I know she’s safe.

  He offered her a small smile. “Feel better?”

  “Yes.” She looked around. “This place is homey.”

  “It is.” He stretched his leg again. “Would you enjoy a walk?”

  “I…” She shrugged. “Is it safe?”

  He arched a brow, and she released a low laugh. “I know you wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t. Okay, just let me grab my shoes.”

  Minutes later they broke free of the screen of greenery hiding the cabin from the beach. The second they stepped out onto sand, Sloane gave a happy cry. While she saw the beach for the first time, he wasn’t looking at the scenery—he was looking at her.

  A smile stole over her face, followed by a glow of pleasure he hadn’t even been able to place there through orgasm. He couldn’t tear his eyes off her.

  “It’s completely isolated. How is this even possible?”

  “We’re pretty remote, and the land juts in here and out there.” He pointed to the small crescent of water cutting into his family’s land. “The water’s too shallow here for boats. They stay much farther out where this place can’t be seen.”

  She stretched her arms to her sides. “It’s like another world.”

  His heart gave a leap. It sure is. An entirely new way of seeing Sloane.

  “Let’s walk to the water.”

  As they crossed the sand, he resisted the urge to take her hand just to feel her soft touch. She paused to toe a big conch shell jutting from the sand. “No wonder you have such a big shell collection in the house. There’s a bunch in the bathroom too.”

  He smiled. “We filled the house up with shells so many times that our mother made us put them outside. My sister and I used to line them up on the shore and see if the tide took them back.”

  Sloane’s eyes brightened with every word he spoke. “I enjoyed that story.”

  They strolled to the water’s edge and stood gazing at the peaceful horizon. Sun caught on the waves in a special light display, and clouds floated by in the sky above. He got lost for a moment in the view and jolted when Sloane grasped his hand.

  Turning to her, he did what he’d been wanting to do since waking her that morning. He cupped her face, leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

  She pushed out a soft noise, eyes closing as he moved his mouth back and forth over hers with no demand whatsoever. He couldn’t expect more than one night with the beautiful woman.

  When he drew away, she clenched her hand in his shirt front. “Bodhi.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart.”

  Her eyes twinkled. “No, you owe me.”

  His brows shot up.

  “Dinner,” she stated. “I’m starving.”

  Laughing together, they turned for the house. As they approached the screen of trees, he went into alert mode again, watching for any possible attack, until his ward was safely locked inside the house.

  He offered the bleached wood table as a place to sit, though Sloane chose the comfy living room and a floor picnic around the coffee table. As they shared cold fried chicken and some cole slaw, she talked about the beaches on the West Coast and how she’d done some day-long movie shoots there.

  When she trailed off, she set her drumstick on the paper plate and stared at him. “Why are you looking at me that way?” Her lips were greasy from the food, and his gut clenched at the desire to throw her down on the old cotton carpet and taste those lips for himself.

  “I’m finding it hard to put together the two halves of you,” he said.

  She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  “The movie star version of Sloane Sailor…and the woman who marched up to a dark house with the intent to free a woman held captive there.”

  She dropped her gaze. “It’s only a job, Bodhi. I’m sure you’re not all just one kind of man either.”

  Chapter Six

  At that, he eyed her. “You don’t think so?”

  God, just the sound of his low, musical tone drove Sloane crazy. Had he noticed her staring at his every move? The pale wiry hairs on his forearms drew her attention more than once, as did the veins snaking up his arms and disappearing in the sleeves of his shirt. Which led her to bulky shoulders and then catapulted her to his chiseled chest.

  Finally…lower.

  She picked her tongue off the floor and met his gaze. “You aren’t just a bodyguard.”

  “What else am I?” Finished with his meal, he kicked back to lean against the sofa, legs crossed at the ankles.

  You’re my friend. And lover.

  Did he want to be her lover again? She’d been in the business long enough to know bodyguards weren’t supposed to sleep with their clients.

  She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin and finally responded to his question. “You’re my friend. At least I like to think you are.”
>
  His stare lay heavy on hers. “I am.”

  Her insides hummed even louder.

  “A friend who’s got your back.”

  Why did those words feel the same as a cold splash of water over her senses?

  “Will you be all right while I shower?” he asked.

  Her mind flew to the possibilities of making love to a man like Bodhi North under a spray of warm water. The way he looked at her made her think she wasn’t invited to join him.

  She settled in the chair. “I’m fine. I’ll just clean up the food.”

  When he pushed off the floor using his hands, the muscles of his arms and chest bulged. She tried not to let him see how much she wanted to be in his arms again. Bodyguard or not, she wanted him. Not because of what he could do to protect her—she wanted him for her own reasons…like she was tired of going it alone in a world of fake friends and kiss-up agents. At night, she went home to her lonely flat and turned on the TV just to hear voices.

  “Bodhi.”

  He paused halfway across the living room and turned.

  “I bet you have a dog, don’t you?”

  His brow crinkled. “Why would you think that?”

  She shrugged. “You look like a dog guy.”

  That crinkle remained between his brows. “I don’t have a dog. Too difficult to take care of when I’m away from home so much.” With that, he turned again and walked into the bathroom.

  She cleaned up the takeout boxes and stored the leftovers in the fridge. Being on her own after all that happened left her feeling unsettled. She wrapped her arms around herself and contemplated ways to pass the time while Bodhi showered.

  Naked.

  All that manly muscle on display. Slick with water. Curls darker and straighter under the spray.

  She drifted down the hall. Beyond the door, she heard the shower running and the occasional splash.

  Laying a hand on the doorknob, she told herself to let the man shower in peace. If he wanted her to share the time with him, he would have asked her.

  Would he? A little voice in the back of her mind wondered if he could be holding back too.

  She twisted the knob and stepped in just as the water stopped. Her heart leaped. Should she sneak out? Why was she sneaking at all? She was a grown woman, and if she wanted a man, she didn’t need to hide it.

  A long arm snaked out of the shower curtain, and he snatched up the towel. When he slid the curtain aside, he was busy drying his face and hair. Terrycloth concealed his view of her…and gave her a chance to study his beautiful physique.

  Long, lean legs and hips. His cock soft and yet one stroke, she knew, would harden it to a size that made a woman pant with lust.

  He seemed to take a long time drying his hair, turning his backside to her as he rubbed the towel over his head. She edged around behind him and slipped her arms around his waist. He went dead still.

  With her cheek pressed to his wet, spine, which was layered with muscle, she breathed in his delicious scent.

  He made a sound low in his throat and slowly lowered the towel. He tossed it aside and turned at an even slower pace to face her. “Sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into by being here.”

  She tipped her head up to meet his gaze. “I know exactly what I’m getting into.” Going on tiptoe, she kissed him. The damp brush of his hair across her cheek raised a brand-new kind of desire in her.

  Taking charge, she threaded her fingers into his hair and held it back as she deepened the kiss. His quiet moan rumbled from his chest into her already aching breasts and sent her nipples into tight peaks. She dragged him down just as he lifted her.

  He settled her on the vanity top while he plundered her mouth, dipping his tongue deep and then retreating. She followed him, and he growled low in his throat.

  She reached for her top and tore it over her head. Bodhi wasted no time in unclasping her bra and stripping it down her shoulders. The moment he cupped her breast and brought the tip to meet his hot tongue, she dropped her head and gave herself up to the man.

  Desire flamed white-hot in her core, and she clamped her thighs around his hips as he teased her nipples. The light scrape of his teeth only heightened her need, and she dragged him even closer.

  “Fuck. I shouldn’t touch you, Sloane. I—”

  She drew his head up to stare into his eyes. “Bodhi…will you take me to bed?”

  In one fluid move, he lifted her and turned for the door. Seconds later, he lay her on a bed, hand cradling her head. Their gazes connected before he slammed his mouth over hers.

  She clung to him as small, uncontrollable whimpers escaped her. He slanted his mouth again and again, twisting and turning his head as though struggling to find a better, deeper, hotter angle. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and reveled in the weight of his body pressing her down.

  He leaned away, lips still latched onto her lower lip. The soft tug yanked a string connected to her pussy. Her panties flooded.

  Bodhi swooped in again, claiming her mouth with all the alpha male demand she only read in scripts. No on-screen, directed kiss ever came close to being this hot. Was it her imagination or was he more frenzied? His moves bordered on frantic.

  Hands shaking, she helped him remove the rest of her clothes. When he paused with his thick girth at the entrance of her pussy, she cried out, “Don’t stop!”

  In one wild jerk of his hips, he sank deep into her core. At the invasion, she went still, mind reeling with too many emotions she couldn’t put a name to. Didn’t matter—they flitted through her mind so quick, they were gone before she had time to examine any.

  “Christ, the look on your face when I’m filling you…”

  His roughened words sandpapered over her senses, raising a soft moan from her.

  She rocked her hips, drawing upward on his cock. The feel of his girth slipping through her walls dragged her under the dark waters of desire for so long, she gasped for air.

  He thrust in for three short bursts and then sank to the root. Withdrawing in one glide, he pinned her in his gaze before teasing her with the short thrusts once more. Just as she latched on to the mind-blowing rhythm, he switched gears by flattening his thumb over her clit.

  With a tremor of ecstasy, she spread her thighs wider to give him better access. He ground his thumb over her clit, erasing everything around her except him and the bliss they shared.

  Suddenly, he pulled his cock free and flipped her over. Face down in the pillows, she twisted to find him hovering just above her, lips at her ear.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you riding me.” He slid his hands beneath her to cup her breasts. She gasped. “The way these bounced against my chest.” He pinched both her nipples with a force that had nothing gentle about it and only twisted her into bigger knots.

  He ran his tongue over hear earlobe in a warm swath. “Did you like riding my cock, baby? Did you like the way I filled you up?”

  “Y-yessss.” The word came out on a shredded sigh.

  “Do you want to feel me inside you again?”

  “Please, I’m going crazy!”

  She felt the thick head of his cock probe up and down her folds. She pushed upward to try to take him, but he held back. Damn the man and his control right now. She needed release, and only he could provide it.

  Slowly, she felt him feed the tip inside her. Just as he began to stretch her around his length, he stopped.

  “Tell me everything that makes you feel good. I want to hear what you want, Sloane.”

  A shudder rippled down her spine. She gripped onto the covers. What did she want? When was the last time she even asked herself that question? She did the necessary to please her agent and publicists, directors and producers. And when it came to finding Scarlett, it didn’t matter how exhausted or jet-lagged she was—she still went out in search of her.

  So Bodhi asking her what she wanted threw her into a tailspin. Beyond anything else, she wanted him.

  She pu
shed onto her knees as much as she could with him overtop her. Shoving her ass toward him, she twisted to look at him. “Take me. Take me now.”

  Grasping onto her hips, he yanked her into him at the same moment he filled her. This time, her drenched walls hugged him with each stroke. A low growl erupted from her lover, and she closed her eyes in ecstasy.

  * * * * *

  North sank into Sloane’s sweet, tight body and lost himself a little more with each groan she rasped out. The feel of her under him—around him—coupled with the heady scents of her desire and feminine noises took him to a whole new level of sex.

  He enjoyed sex—who didn’t? Though he never let himself feel much during the act. It was purely a physical release for him and nothing more. If he got lucky, an interesting conversation preceded the moment, but he never experienced something compared to this in his life.

  He yanked her hips, pulling her pussy down on his cock as he sank into her. The added motion just about stole his fucking mind. Tossing his head, he bottled a roar that Sloane didn’t hold back. She screamed as her orgasm hit. The tight clenching of her walls brought a silent gasp from him. He jerked, shuddered…and came with a force that might have stopped his heart. It sure as hell stopped all brain activity.

  Pumping his cum into her took him to the next level, and he didn’t stop churning his hips until the final drop squeezed from his head. She collapsed. He stared at her warm brown hair tumbling over her spine and her glistening skin for several heartbeats before he pulled free.

  As soon as he did, he wanted to tunnel in again. He dipped his still rock-hard cock inside her once more, and she moaned.

  “It feels so good I can’t stop.” He thrust slow one more time before rolling off her and dragging her to lie over his chest.

  She did better than that, positioning herself fully on top of him. Plastered together with Sloane, he didn’t know if he’d ever felt such damn peace.

  Smoothing his hand up and down her spine, he felt her go boneless in his arms. He kissed her forehead. “You okay?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  The small noises in the cabin roused more of a homey feeling than he’d experienced in ages. Memories flooded in, of his family and all the days spent in the water. Even their family German Shepard, Wolf, would return to the cabin tired and sandy after his swims, to lie on the floor and guard the front door.