Or two.
At the same time and let them do whatever the hell they want to with me.
God, where the hell did that thought come from?
I mean, Jesus, what woman wouldn’t when they devour your entire body with their eyes and consume you like a savor meal one inch at a time?
The black material of their tuxedos contours to their thick arms and fits their tall statures perfectly.
They were Hollywood gorgeous with real world rough edges. Polished yet jagged at the same time and it makes my nerves jitter like I’ve had five espresso shots back to back.
Three large chandeliers line the length of the ballroom and throw a romantic, glittery hue over the occupants, and I let my attention roam from my admirers for a brief moment so I can catch my breath.
The sudden attention honed in on me makes me self-conscious of the dress I picked for the evening. The soft deep red gown wraps around my curves in a snug fit and falls to the floor, covering my legs. A number my mother would be proud of.
Well, until I move.
Each step flashes onlookers with a teasing hint of skin through a slit that runs the full length of my right thigh, making panties a no-go for the evening along with dancing.
A stiff corset anchors my breasts from swaying too heavily as I walk, leaving my shoulders bare but for a few thin, crossing straps.
To top the look off, I’ve picked impossibly high stilettos I’m still not too sure about, but make my legs look killer. Sacrifices had to be made.
It feels good to shed away the glasses and books of the Ivy League persona I’ve lived as longer than I can remember and just be a woman for once. Not studious Valentina. Not plane Jane Val. Not dependable Val who never-says-no.
Tonight I’m a woman and a sexy one at that if these men’s reactions are anything to go by.
Maybe even a little desirable, for once.
I feel the heated glances of my mystery men’s caresses along the lines of my face and my skin heats as their attention travels over my heavy bust and narrow waist only to leave a heated trail up the slit of my dress as if I can feel their lingering touch.
They are moving through the crowd toward me.
Oh, Lord.
I sweep my hair over my shoulder and catch quick glimpses of them beneath thick lashes and I can’t help but stiffen when my core clenches as their attention lands there.
I lower my gaze and descend the rest of the way, trying to compose myself for meeting all my parent’s guests. Warning signals go off in my head and I falter in my step as I reach the bottom landing.
Gravity takes over and I pitch forward into a wall of a man.
“Good heavens. What are you made of? Steel?”
And sex?
But I keep that to myself.
I get a grunt in response as a set of strong arms protectively wrap around me moments before I make an utter fool of myself.
My eyes travel upward and land on the hard, chiseled face of mystery man number one. From pelvis to nipples my body presses against his. With my head craned back I watch as his nostrils flare as he takes in a deep breath like he’s filling his scenes with my perfume.
My hands are on his shoulders and damn if my fingers don’t have a mind of their own.
“Wow. You don’t joke around in the gym, do you,” I tease and his only reply is the dark glimmer of hunger in his eyes and it does not seem he cares about hiding the fact.
Straightforward, limited words. Good to know.
My stomach flutters with how he stares at me with a tiny smile tilting his lips and I no longer care I almost face-planted in front of New York City’s most rich and powerful.
My hands continue their trek south and I grip his bulging forearms and balance my footing. My chest tightens as shock runs through me. Shock and something else entirely that borders on pure, unfiltered lust.
My heart is pumping all these very new and very real feelings rushing through me.
Pure heat spikes my blood and my heart lurches with enough power to fuel a long night of passion with him between my thighs.
The trajectory of my thoughts surprises me, but I don’t dash them away either. Gorgeously muscled, he stands out as much as my other mystery man does and that fact intrigues me more than it should at the moment.
I should excuse myself, should put as much distance between me and all this muscle and those dark, arresting eyes.
The cuff of his jacket pulls up a fraction exposing deep colored ink swirls. I bet if I peel back that perfect bow tie and open the collar of his shirt I’d see the tail end of that ink. Like a dirty little secret hidden away for only a special someone.
And this is why I can’t find it in myself to walk away.
Curiosity at all this masculine perfection glues my feet to the floor, unmoving. Honestly, since I could remember curiosity has always been my weakness. Why should tonight be any different?
Or maybe it’s that I don’t want to walk away.
It is definitely a lot of both.
Piper’s words come back in a whisper. Have a little fun. Get laid.
I hold in my laugh. What kind of vixen have I turned into?
God, I must look like a fool to him just standing here like an idiot feeling up his arms.
I try to right myself and pull away but he tightens his hold around my waist. “Easy, get your balance first, princess. I’m in no rush. Far as I’m concerned these arms were made for you.”
My eyes widen at his direct approach.
“You’re not entirely all that frivolous with your words, are you?”
Humor, or what I think passes for it with this man, brightens his face, forcing the dark somberness from moments before away. A softness crinkles the areas around his eyes that makes him look rugged and sweet at the same time.
My thoughts come back around to his words.
“Princess? Why princess?” I ask. My brows pinch together at the pet name and the way it sends a chill over my heated skin.
“Because you are a princess. I’ll tell you now if you were ours, you would be treated like a queen. Princess will have to do. For now.”
The humor is swiftly replaced with a deeper look of something I can’t quite put my finger on. His last two words draw my full focus and he narrows his eyes on me as if measuring my reaction.
“That sounds like a promise if I ever heard one,” I mutter to myself like the man in front of me can’t hear my words.
He hasn’t relinquished his hold on me so I’m still encased in muscle and sex.
“It is,” he answers like it is written in stone.
What the fuck did that mean? I pull back and this time he lets me because I know if he wanted I would be his prisoner and damn if that doesn’t turn me on more. Yet, I don’t get far. He keeps a hand on my lower back.
With his other hand, he reaches out to fix a few wayward curls that have slipped over my shoulder.
“Ours? What does that even mean?” I draw a step closer so no one can overhear and ignore the way his hand feels on my bare shoulder and the smugness to his claim.
That’s when I remember there are two of them. I glance around but don’t see his other half.
He nods with a knowing smile I don’t quite understand.
I’m not sure if he is consciously doing it or not, but his hand is resting on my exposed back just above the globes of my ass. He is stroking lazy circles with the pad of his thumb and I’m honestly debating asking him to use both hands it feels so good.
I’m torn between staying right where I’m and pulling away like a sane, rational thinking woman should.
I swallow when he grins and I swear I hear a low growl come from him.
In his arms I can’t help but feel protected and that’s when it hits me. Every man, or rather college boy trying to be a man, I’ve ever been remotely interested in dating over the past three years of university life are just that—boys.
This man is every bit the beast my other mystery man is and I’m oddly cur
ious what it would feel like to be the Valentine treat shared between them.
That thought forces me to pull away.
I glance around and mutter under my breath when I catch the eyes of a few of my father’s political acquaintances slipping us the eye as they waltz by.
Great. Nothing like fueling the rumor mills.
A string of curse words slips out at my own foolishness.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to trip. Thanks for being in the right place at the right time.”
Oh, that was smooth.
“One rarely does. And it was my pleasure.”
Smartass.
The wall of muscle beneath my palms shake with soft laughter as he chuckles. His eyes roam over me leisurely as if he is fascinated with what he sees.
I’m lost in the moment and fail to see the other one approach until he’s at my side.
“All is clear. I made another round. Should be a quiet evening.”
My spine stiffens at the unfamiliar voice and I turn to find my mystery man talking to his twin? I still haven’t figured that little puzzle piece out. When he finishes speaking to mystery man number one, he turns his dark almost charcoal black eyes on me and the two of them together block out the entire view of the room.
With the stairs at my back and the wall at my side, I’m pinned with no way out.
Both have their nearly jet-black hair neatly combed and parted along the side. They look so perfect, good and clean. Until you pause long enough to really look them in the eye.
Both have a dark side and it reflects in the sharpness of their gazes.
Mystery man number two turns his attention on me and with that one look, if I was not already practically pressed against the wall, my feet wouldn’t have moved me anyway.
I’m effectively tucked away from anyone seeing our exchange due to their size and that small realization shoots a thrill through me as goose bumps dot my skin.
I can’t remember the last time I considered a man hot. Or two, for that matter.
What an odd thing to say. “Everything is fine, I assure you. You’re among friends here,” I offer with a smile.
And this is where the real inner war kicks off. To move past them and excuse myself or stay and try my unpracticed hand at flirting? My language is code and that doesn’t translate when it comes to the opposite sex. Piper has smacked her forehead on many occasions at the things that have fallen from my mouth.
As much as I would love to stay where I am at, I step around them. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I must tend to my other guests.”
But I don’t get more than a few inches from either man.
Mystery man number one who spotted me from across the ballroom turns to my hero and asks in a deep-husked voice fitting for his bearish size. “You didn’t tell her?”
I hear him intake a deep breath. “I didn’t have a chance. I was a little busy catching her mid-fall.”
It takes a monumental amount of self-restraint not to let the flush of heat I’m feeling in my core bloom out and coat my cheeks in a deep blush from the sound of their voices alone.
I pause by mystery man one and nail him with a puzzled look. “Tell me what?”
“Oh, good darling, there you are. I was about to send Mr. Reed and Mr. Porter to find you and I see they already have. Good. That get’s that out of the way.”
I turn and give my father a quick peck on the cheek. “Good evening, Father. I’m confused. Why would guests for tonight’s gala need to come and find me?”
My father, a robust man topping fifty with a silver cap of hair and square glasses like my own chuckles as a small blush hits his cheeks. He shoves his hands into his pants pockets sheepishly. “My dear, Mr. Reed and Mr. Porter will be taking the place of your last security detail. I’m sorry I couldn’t break away and inform you earlier.”
My Father raises his voice a fraction so we can hear him over the small orchestra playing for tonight’s gala. He gestures first to mystery man number one I take is Mr. Porter and then to the one I take is Mr. Reed. Frankly, it’s getting harder and harder to tell them apart by looks alone.
Oddly enough the one named Mr. Porter still has his hand on my back stroking a gentling motion with his thumb as if he is trying to sooth a riled beast.
As much as I know I should stop him, I like the subtle contact.
“Mr. Carmichael,” begins Mr. Reed from beside me. “We were on our way up to find your daughter when she made her grand entrance.”
He spoke eloquently to save face for me.
Mr. Porter winks at me when I flash him an appreciative glance for his timely appearance. He turns to my father, the hand on my back never moving and says, “We will see to her protection as the evening progresses. We won’t let her out of our sight.”
“I’m sorry. What? You’re not serious? I mean I don’t mind a couple of handsome men following me around, but keep me from my work? Not happening, buster.” My voice rises in pitch garnering me two cocked brows and look from both men.
Oh my God. Is there nothing they don’t do together?
I turn to my father and place a hand on his elbow. These two brutes are going to ruin the escape plan I had all laid out in my head. Work the crowd, be seen, fifteen minutes later ditch the dress and heels and curl up in my old bed for the evening and word code. In the morning I’d return home and plan my week of classes.
Easy.
Now these guys show up and not only throw a wrench in my plans, but they also have the audacity to actually look fucking drop-dead gorgeous while doing it.
Fuuuck.
My lady parts are all over the idea of spending time with them. Well my vagina can just shut up and be happy with what I give her in the privacy of my own bedroom.
And now I’m talking about my vagina in third person.
God, someone slap me already.
I press a finger to the point between my brows and rub.
“Father, this is entirely not necessary and what will people think with two men trailing after me while at school? And while at work.” I keep my voice low, trying to not make a scene.
My father guffaws. “My dear, you work for me. Everyone already talks about us. It comes with the territory.”
Okay. True.
“But I refuse to see—”
“—I won’t hear it,” he cuts me off. “This is happening and you will do as you are instructed. This is not up for debate. I’d have a four-man team surrounding you at all times if I could. My baby girl’s life means more to me than what a bunch of gossiping politicians and college kids have to say when you have your back turned.”
I open my mouth to object again but shut it just as quickly when my father holds a hand up.
“Since you won’t listen to reason and ditch this notion of finishing your brother’s code and challenging everyone at every step just to finish it, you’ve left me with no choice but to hire protection for you. I’ve brought in Mr. Reed and Porter to do just that. New blood from outside my own securities company to make sure there are no possibilities for corruption. I just don’t trust anyone anymore.”
My father looks saddened a moment before continuing.
“You’re in good hands. Now, dear, do make sure to visit and mingle. You may like your work more than most here, but this is important. Let’s see how much we can shake these aristocrats for tonight,” my father teases with a twinkle in his eye as he turns to my hot new bodyguards, my protests all but squashed.
“Gentlemen, my daughter works too hard. As you will be with her for the foreseeable future, will you please see to it that she doesn’t return to that laptop of hers long enough to mingle and enjoy a dance or two?”
Both men give a single nod.
Great.
I don’t think my father realizes his grave mistake. These men aren’t bodyguards, they are wolves.
As soon as my father’s back is turned the hulkish wall of muscle snaps back into place and both men are looking down at me with a fiercer look of
hunger in their eyes.
Wolfish grins flash on their faces.
“Ms. Carmichael, it looks like you’re all ours.”
Chapter Three
Noah
I lean closer and drag in a lungful of sweetly scented air. She smells like innocence and my mouth waters. Sweet and tempting like a sugary treat to a starving man. And I’m ravenous.
Beside me, Ash looks just as hungry.
Every tempting curve on her body is highlighted by the red number she has on tonight. I’m half tempted to put my tuxedo jacket over her shoulders and whisk her away from prying eyes, but this much tender beauty should be appreciated.
When she descended the stairs I saw the jackals eyeing her. Fucking animals can admire from afar. Get close and I’ll have no problem doing my job.
Ash and I are not any better. She’s sneaking glances our way and probably thinks we’re a pair of perverts, albeit well-dressed, but I can’t bring myself to step out of her personal space or withdraw my hand from her back. The connection formed the second my fingers came in contact with her heated skin and she doesn’t seem in a hurry to break away from my touch or me.
Nosy guests are trying to peer around us for fodder to put into their gossip rounds, no doubt and I angle my large shoulders and thick mass to block our princess from the milling crowd wandering about the newcomers.
Two days ago Mr. Carmichael walked into our firm requesting a security detail for his daughter with a thick file and the reason behind the need for our services.
On top of screenshots of threatening emails, text messages, and filed police reports detailing out the anonymous harassments with no other details or names was a picture of the perfect woman for us.
It took us all of ten minutes after learning her name to formulate a plan moving forward to secure Valentina’s safety and a fraction of that to agree we would handle this case personally.
At her father’s request we kept silent until he could inform his daughter to our presence but from the look on her face, her old man didn’t move fast enough.
Irritation at her father burns me. He should have told her. Warned her she would have two men on her ass. The flow of information is what keeps people alive. Break that and shit always hits the fan. Like now. It is not a huge problem and no one would get hurt from her father’s oversight of not informing her of our presence, but the annoyance of seeing her confused burns me.
Guarding Their Valentine Page 2