His to Protect (The Guard Book 3)

by Em Petrova

  A shiver ran through her, visibly snaking from her neck to the base of her spine.

  “What I mean to say is”—she drew a deep breath—“I need to get through this movie disruption before I go off to find my sister. I won’t be looking for her or rescuing others for a while.”

  He simply stared at her. “Is this your whole ‘trying to protect me’ thing?”

  She issued a low chuckle. “As if you need protection.” She reached for the dice even though he’d only rolled and hadn’t moved yet.

  Resting a hand over hers, he stopped her. As soon as their gazes met, a shock of awareness zapped through him, nearly sending him tumbling backward. Immediately, he withdrew his hand and focused on the gameboard.

  “I didn’t move yet,” he rumbled.

  “Take your turn.” She attempted a light tone. Nothing was light between them, though. Every look felt loaded, each touch oozing with innuendo.

  He seriously fucked up with this case. Now he knew no choice but to back off and hope they sorted out what balance was left between them.

  * * * * *

  Sloane laid a hand against the frame of the door leading to North’s bedroom. Through the darkness, she made out his large form on the bed. Coming to him in the night—again—was probably an even bigger mistake, though she couldn’t stop her feet from carrying her forward across the worn hardwood. As she reached the bed, a board squeaked. She went dead still, but not quick enough.

  North heaved upward and snagged an arm around her. He ripped her off her feet and flattened her to the bed. The breath whooshed out of her lungs as pure terror hit her system.

  “North! It’s me!”

  His eyes were glazed over, dark and burning with an intensity she only saw once before, after he shot that man in the parking lot.

  Shudders washed over her, and she shook underneath him. “North!”

  He continued to pin her in place, blinking slowly. Suddenly, his eyes cleared. “Jesus Christ.” He shoved away from her and jumped off the bed.

  Her heart thundered, and she lay there so still, she hardly drew a breath. What just happened? She learned a heavy lesson, that was what.

  Never startle a deadly man awake.

  His breaths rasped, filling the quiet, and then returned to normal.

  As he dropped to the edge of the mattress again, he leaned over, head in his hands. She sent a look at his broad back, taking notice of how the muscles stood out on his spine and ran up to his shoulders and along his hard biceps.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll go.”

  “No, don’t,” he grated out. “I just need a minute.”

  She lay there listening to her own harsh breaths wheeze in and out of her lungs, along with the light breeze outside the window. Picturing how the trees would sway in the ocean air comforted her enough that her heartrate slowed a bit.

  “I was dreaming,” he said at last.

  Her gut twisted. Thinking of the nightmares that must plague this man made her own look like a summer vacation. More seconds passed where neither spoke.

  Unable to stand the tension another minute, she made an attempt at comic relief. “I know losing to me in Monopoly was a hit to your ego, but you didn’t need to attack me for it.”

  A low snort escaped him, and he twisted, swinging his legs onto the mattress again. Stretching out next to her, he stared at her through the darkness without laying a hand on her.

  “I’m pretty sure you cheated at the game,” he said.

  A relieved giggle bubbled up, and she flipped onto her side to face him. “I never cheat.”

  He arched a brow, and though she still recognized the strain around his eyes, his expression didn’t scare her like it did before. “When I went to get us drinks, you didn’t move your scotty dog to the next space because it would win you the game?”

  She bit her lower lip. “Okay, maybe I did. Only because it was going on for hours and somebody needed to end it!”

  He chuckled. The sound burbled over her senses, drawing on a wellspring of desire. She clamped her thighs together while she struggled not to move into his embrace. Besides, he wasn’t offering to hold her, not even for comfort’s sake.

  “What were you dreaming?” She must know even though it was probably a bad idea.

  His jaw hardened. “I was dreaming about Flint.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Do you even know what he looks like?”

  “Yes. I know everything about the son of a bitch.”

  Unable to stop herself, she wiggled closer until her side pressed up against his. Maybe she wanted human contact for her own reasons, but she also wanted to ease that look on Bodhi’s face.

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I just wondered if you were…” she trailed off.

  “Having flashbacks about getting knifed?”

  She nodded.

  “No. That’s nothing, I told you.” He inched his hand toward her hip, stopped and pulled it back.

  How easy it would be to take charge again, make demands with her body and satisfy this deep want for her bodyguard. Though he held himself in complete control, her body rioted with desire. What could be wrong in losing themselves to pleasure again?

  “Can I tell you something, Sloane?” His eyes roamed over her face, leaving her prickling even more.

  “Of course.”

  “When I saw your name come up and learned you needed a bodyguard, I knew I had to take you on.”

  She searched his eyes. “Why?” She didn’t want to know. She already feared what he’d tell her.

  “I watched one of your movie marathons when I was laid up with my leg. I might have crushed on you more than a little during that time. Your role as the leader of that army of insurgents—”

  She rolled onto her back, anger and hurt rising to replace any heated desire she might have felt a moment before. “I’m not that person. She’s a character.”

  With her heart dropped somewhere around her shins, she climbed off the bed. She didn’t make it more than one step before that big arm banded around her middle a second time and yanked her down into bed. This time when he loomed over her, she sucked in a sharp breath at the torment swirling in his eyes.

  “I know that’s not you. I’m sorry, baby.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “I don’t want that character. I want you—the woman who risks her life to save all those helpless young women. I want you—the Sloane who worried about my safety. You…” he dropped his voice, “the woman who comes apart for me without holding anything back.”

  On each word, his head seemed to dip a bit more, until his hard lips pressed into hers. With a sigh of surrender, she circled her arms around his neck.

  Chapter Eight

  Everything about Sloane drove him further from sanity, from the soft crush of her lips against his to the way she clung to him. After his reaction to her waking him, he felt like a son of a bitch. Christ, if ever a time arrived to realize how ill-suited to a relationship he was, he’d just experienced it and proved it to Sloane as well.

  Still, the tender whispers leaving her lips as she trailed her mouth over his neck and down to his chest had him shaking.

  “You taste salty…so good,” she murmured, grazing just short of his nipple. As her hot tongue slipped down over his flesh, he swallowed a groan.

  How to stop this when he started it? Trying to keep his feelings in check was proving impossible—they were all over the place. He liked Sloane—too much. The burning need to keep her safe surpassed any he felt for his wards before.

  For tonight, he could let down his guard. They were safe. Three of his fellow guards stood sentry on the perimeter of the property until a safer time arrived to move Sloane. What she didn’t know, because he kept it from her, was the world was burning outside of these four walls. The news and media were going wild with new reports of mayhem as people took a stand against this global situation. The people were fed up—and Sloane either stood as their leader or their target.
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br />   Either way, North couldn’t allow her to go near that shit. Madeline suggested things would calm down in a few weeks.

  In a few weeks, I won’t be able to walk away from this woman.

  She slipped her hands down his spine, moving with purpose toward his boxers. When she breached the waistband, eased her hands inside the cloth and gripped his ass, his cock jerked into full arousal.

  Taking her would be so easy. Her shorts thrown aside, his boxers shoved down. What was one more indiscretion when he already lost his head?

  Her nails dug lightly into his backside, and she rocked her hips up into his erection. “North…”

  “Fuck.” He wouldn’t stop—couldn’t.

  One more time.

  He braced himself on his arms and glided his hard cock over her pussy. Despite the clothes shielding them, they both moaned. She pushed down his boxers, and his cock sprang free. The instant she curled her soft hand around the base of his dick, he was a goner.

  She pumped him from root to tip, squeezing with perfect pressure as she started down the length again. His balls drew up tight to his body. As he met her gaze, he saw excitement dancing like electric sparks in her eyes. She liked pleasuring him—and damn, that turned him on even more.

  “You like stroking me, baby?”

  “Yesss. I love feeling how big and hard you are. I want you inside me.”

  He allowed her a few more strokes before he needed to put a stop to it. Gently, he moved her hand, drawing it up and over her head. He pinned the other hand as well. Leaning over her, he stared into her eyes.

  “Don’t move,” he grated out.

  She nodded.

  He released her and slipped down her body, removing her clothes as he went. When he got her beautiful body bared to him, he sat back on his heels to drink in the moment.

  It may be the last.

  It should be the last.

  It had to be.

  He ran his thumb up the lips of her pussy. When he reached the top, he pressed down on her clit. She cried out, and he watched with total absorption as he circled her nubbin again and again. Her stare penetrated him, and he saw the impact of his touch reflected in her eyes.

  Stroking her faster, he groaned as her juices slicked the pad of his thumb. He smoothed the juices over her clit, and it grew harder. She strained upward, her breasts trembling with each ragged breath she took.

  Fuck, he had to take himself in hand. Locking his fist around the head of his cock, he fought to stave off his orgasm. Just watching her…seeing that pleasure glowing in her eyes…

  He pumped his cock once, nice and slow while he swirled his thumb over her bundle of nerves. Her spine arched. Her lips parted on a gasp.

  With a jerk, she came for him.

  Her dark stare stole his last reserve, and he replaced his thumb with the head of his cock, strumming it over her, eyes locked, until they were both gasping.

  “Do you feel that connection?” she rasped.

  “Yes,” he ground out.

  “What is it?” Her stare never left his.

  He didn’t want to think about it. On the other hand, he couldn’t even consider sliding into her body without looking into her beautiful eyes.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered at last.

  “I don’t want it to end.” She pushed upward as he slipped his cock down the seam of her pussy. As he angled toward her entrance, she wrapped her arms around him. At the moment he entered her, he saw the effects mirrored in her eyes.

  What is it? He didn’t have a goddamn clue, and he didn’t want it to end either. Inevitably, they’d part ways. She’d return to her life and he would…what?

  Sit behind his computer monitor thinking about these stolen moments.

  * * * * *

  With his shaft stretching her walls, she lost herself to the heat of his gaze and the hardness of his body.

  This feeling—whatever it was—swelled between them, gaining in strength. She couldn’t look away if she tried, and he didn’t even blink as he drove in and out with a rhythm set to strip her of all brain cells.

  Ecstasy left her feverish. She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his biceps to follow the tendons straining to his wrists. He leaned away enough to capture her hands in one of his. As he drew them over her head and pressed them down to the mattress under his, a quiet squeak of need escaped her.

  At this minute, she couldn’t think of anyplace she’d rather be than pinned to the bed by this man.

  He swayed his hips and the tip of his cock hit her innermost spot. She flooded around him, her orgasm shining just beyond reach. And his eyes…God, she never experienced a man looking at her this way. Not just seeing her—seeing into her.

  Passion flowed up and over, and she watched his eyes hood with pleasure even as his moves grew jerky.

  “Take me, baby. Take me deep.” He filled her again and again. His cock rubbing over her G-spot snapped a thread inside her, and she shivered on the precipice.

  She came with a scream, fingers curled in Bodhi’s hand, thighs clenched around his hips.

  The second he lost control, she witnessed it in the depths of his eyes and felt it with each pump of his hips. The first hot splash of his release hit her body, and she continued to come apart.

  He slammed his mouth over hers. The kiss heightened the emotion clogging her throat until it became a scorching lump. She stroked her tongue over his, giving back everything he delivered.

  As he issued a final rumble of bliss, she echoed it with one of her own. Still connected, he rolled her. She threw her leg over his hip and wrapped her arms around Bodhi as their kisses moved from intense to gentle.

  When he drew away to stare into her eyes, she wondered how she’d ever let go of him. She knew women who tried to trap a man—she’d never do that to Bodhi—now she understood why.

  A slight knocking sound from the front of the cabin made her shoot up on a cry. Terror washed over her.

  Bodhi touched her spine. “It’s just my man. I’ll be right back.”

  Heart exploding with the adrenaline rush, she stared on as Bodhi calmly dressed and walked out of the room. She strained to hear though she couldn’t detect even a murmur.

  His man? Suddenly, she remembered him talking on the phone after the attack, demanding someone get men on his property.

  She quickly used the bathroom and then dressed in her pajamas again. When he entered the room, she stood by the bed, arms wrapped around her middle.

  One look at her, and he strode across the room to pull her into his arms. She lay her head against his chest. Just breathing his scent calmed her, and that scared her even more than the dangers she faced.

  When he brushed a kiss between her brows, she relaxed enough to slide her arms around his waist and hold on tight.

  “Was that your man?” she asked in a weaker tone than she’d like.

  “Yes.”

  “What did he want?”

  “Just to give me an update. All is quiet.”

  She nodded, rubbing her cheek on his soft, worn T-shirt.

  “I’m sorry he scared you so bad when he knocked. I should have reminded you I had safeguards in place.”

  She leaned away to stare up at him. The sight of that crease between his eyes she often saw when he was deep in thought roused some deep emotion in her. She swallowed. Why would a simple expression jerk at her heart like this?

  “Come on.” He squeezed her hand. “Let me make you some tea.”

  He led the way to the kitchen, and she threw a look at the darkened windows. All of a sudden, the black panes appeared ominous despite the homey linen curtains covering them.

  She took a seat at the small wooden table. Watching Bodhi in the kitchen would ordinarily turn her on. A muscular, barefooted man with his jeans slung low on his hips performing the simple act of filling the teapot went a long way with her feminine senses. Though she couldn’t escape the fact that beyond this cozy cabin were people who wanted to harm her—or worse.

>   She toyed with the salt and pepper shakers on the table to distract herself, all the while watching Bodhi pull two mugs from a cupboard and place teabags into each. He rustled around in another cupboard and came out with a sugar canister. He opened it and peered inside.

  “Almost empty.” He poured a bit into a third mug and added a teaspoon as his makeshift sugar bowl. Leave it to a man like Bodhi to make something so ordinary seem charming.

  He leaned against the counter, shifting the weight off his one leg, and stared at her. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Is your leg bothering you?”

  “Sometimes it aches at night. Bodies aren’t meant to have pins and steel plates in them. I’m fine.”

  “Maybe you should ice it. Or would heat help?”

  “Don’t worry about me.” He waved a hand.

  How could she not note the injuries he’d sustained by doing his job? His leg, the bandage peeking from under the sleeve of his shirt…

  He swept across the space and sank to a chair next to her. “Sloane. I swear you’re safe here.”

  “But are you?”

  His eyes widened. “Of course.”

  She stared at the simple white crockery salt and pepper shakers.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. No point in playing games—so she told him. “I’m wondering how to stop these guys.”

  “My man just told me some of the rallying has dropped during the night. Things are already calming down.”

  She straightened her shoulders. “I don’t mean the environmentalists. I mean Flint. How can we stop these marriages from even taking place?”

  He stared at her and finally sighed. “We’ve been trying for years to end things just like this. Mostly we work to stop human traffickers. This isn’t much different. Small operations just like it are all over the world, and as soon as we smack down one and break it apart, another pops up. It’s like whack-a-mole.”

  She shuddered at the words human traffickers. Deep down, in her most bottomless, hopeless soul, she feared Scarlett had ended up in the hands of men who sold her into more than marriage.

  The teapot started its slow whistle, and Bodhi got up to remove it from the flames before it grew louder. As he poured the hot water into the mugs, his back faced her. She saw the tense set of his shoulders and knew he had more to discuss on the topic.