Rapid Pulse: A Limited Edition Spicy Romance Collection

by Gina Kincade

  She began to move her digit faster over her clit, dipping the other two in and out of her glazed core. Over and over she pressed inside herself, then added a third, stretching her pink, moistened labia wide, nearly driving him over the brink as he panted like a dog in heat outside the window. Kathryn pumped her hand into her heat, keening with what he assumed an elusive release. Getting so obviously frustrated, she pumped, rubbed, and flicked the swollen bud with the rounded tip of her fingernail. She thrashed her head side to side on the bed. With a deep growl slipping from her lips, she reached into the drawer beside the bed and produced a silver, bullet shaped vibrator. Turning the speed on a loud, rumbling high he heard clearly through the small opening in the window, she touched the buzzing phallus to the very tip of her swollen clit, jumping a little when it connected. Another very audible moan bubbled up from her throat, and Jason's jeans suddenly felt extremely constrictive.

  Rubbing the sliver shaft over her clit a few times, dipping it into her wet channel, presumably to help it glide, she began to pant heavily as her orgasm drew nearer. He watched as that little silver bullet flew over her clit.

  Undoing two of the buttons on his jeans to relieve some of the pressure in his aching cock, he continued to watch her as she bucked and moaned, shivering from the pleasure given by that little silver shaft. He could see clearly as the lips of her pussy opened and closed with each contraction of her orgasm, her back arched, giving him a delicious, teasing glimpses of her luscious ass. Oh god, he was so close to blowing his load just from watching this perfect creature as she pleasured herself. He would just about kill to be in that room right about now.

  Could he? Would she welcome him to her bed, appreciate his advances and the option to have a man give her what she so clearly needed right now? Ignoring the niggling voice that told him he did not have the mental facility right now to be making any kind of reasonable decisions, he decided to go into her room and have it out with her right this minute. He had to do something, be it push things to the next level between them–which he knew would be a damning choice, but ignored anyway–or to turn the woman over his knee and teach her the linguistics of reality while under the care of his security in an effort to protect her. Damn it, he had to do something!

  With little fear she would see him now, Jason almost ran into the condo. He tossed the sliding door aside, jogged through the living room, and flung open the door to her room. "Kathryn...?"

  Looking over in his direction, her eyes still glazed from the nice little orgasm she had just had, the vibrator, still now, in her hand rested on the bed.

  "Yes, Jason?" she purred at him.

  "I-I heard noises," he stammered his pathetic excuse to enter her room when he knew perfectly well what the noises had been. "Are you okay? Is there something you need?"

  "Yes, Jason. I'm all right." Her husky, sated voice alone proved almost enough to bring him to his knees at this point.

  "Oh, okay." He stammered as he began to close the door; cursing himself for even thinking his move could get him anywhere with her. After watching her, he was obviously not in his right mind. What in the hell had made him run in there like that? He was obviously delirious, tired, over-worked...whatever. His mind flew over the excuses he could give himself for his unusual behavior, coming up short at every turn.

  "Jason, I do actually need something." Her voice stopped him cold. He glanced back across the room at her, seeing her crystal blue eyes, hazed with endorphins, staring directly at him. Her body reclined lazily on the bed, uncovered, glistening with sweat, both from the heat of the night and from her little adventure with herself.

  His cock still sat rock solid in his jeans, the top two buttons remained undone. He looked at her, thinking he must be nuts. She was not really asking...he must be imagining it.

  As she slipped her pink tongue over her lips, coating them with glistening moisture, she gave him a knowing look. "May I have some water?"

  "Yes, ma'am." His heart beating quickly, he wondered if she had seen him at the window, known he'd watched her. He stood there, dumbstruck at her request. Here he was, hard as a rock, ready to do her bidding–anything she asked, especially after her little show–and she wanted water? On her bed, perfectly naked, legs slightly spread providing a tantalizing view of a hint of swollen pink pussy and a portion of her generous round ass, she seriously asked for a drink?

  With a little laugh she looked at him, "Jason?"

  Jason shook his head, trying desperately to rid himself of the mental images racing through him. She hadn't yet tried in any way to cover herself from his view: her nakedness, the dripping wet sex toy she held. Surely she wanted him to see, to tease him. He couldn't afford to keep thinking this way or it'd be the death of him.

  Cursing, he ripped his gaze off her lounging form and pivoted on the thick heel of his boot. Leaving the door open, he walked quickly away. Going to the refrigerator he opened it with such force the door audibly protested before he grabbed a bottle of water. Women! Damn things can get a man in so much trouble! Now he knew he definitely had to leave this job. In fact, I ain't waiting till the morning shift arrives neither! He was angry now, at himself, not her.

  As the company's best man, he knew better. She'd proved a very difficult job as his co-workers had warned him, but he had never failed a job. Grabbing his cell phone he punched in his boss's number.

  Pete, while also his best friend, was his boss and the owner of the protective services company he worked for. The man was very explicit and stern on the rules he'd created for his protection, for his employees, and the protection of the clients, but most importantly, the protection of the business. Under no circumstances whatsoever were those rules to ever be broken. Jason knew he had really fucked up big time, and for what? A glimpse of the Senator's full-figured, twenty-year-old daughter playing with herself? Simply because she also happened to be the most attractive woman he'd met this side of the border? Besides, her attitude left far too much to be desired, and he was sick of the shopping and the dining out in fancy, high-class restaurants where his jeans and cowboy boots were completely out of place. He was done watching as she slipped the Stewards a Benjamin Franklin when they huffed and puffed over her companion's dinner wear.

  He and Pete had just been discussing the possibility of a partnership between the two of them. Shit!

  Punching in the number, he thought of Pete's wife and his friend, struggling with the loss of her mother on the very eve of their first child's rough entry into the world. Shit. His hand automatically snapped the lid closed on the phone. Nope, he couldn't do this to Pete. Time to suck it up and stop being such a whiny bitch. He could handle this. He was a professional, damn it! He could do this. With some serious effort, he would tame back the illogical responses this woman seemed to bring out in him, the way being around her screwed with his senses enough to allow him to border on completely insane. To counter the sting, he promised himself some much needed R&R & RW–rest, relaxation, and rigorously working his ass off at the ranch when this job was finished. He firmly decided the temporary loss of his mental capacity was a one-time thing, meant nothing, and tomorrow he'd be back to his old, cold, hard-working self. The pampered life he'd been experiencing while following this filly around town to cater to her indulgences had rubbed off on him. Yup, that was it. Too much of the niceties in life could make any man lose his mind, fast. He'd get over that shit, quick!

  Now he only had to convince his body to believe what he had already convinced his mind. No problem there. He was used to being completely in control.

  Chapter Three

  Jason had been acting different around her the last few days since he'd walked in on her naked, post masturbation. Stand-offish. Cold. Distant. Uninterested. She clicked off the adjectives in her head. The more he acted like the others before him, like she was a bitch to barely be tolerated, the more she acted like one. Irritated, she thought nothing of taking it out on him. The sting of not being able to even entice a bodyguard she ignored, o
r paid back by making him take her everywhere that she could dream of to go, gulled at her. She'd bought more the last few days than she had when she'd been with all of her other guards combined. Of course, none of them had led her to erotic daydreams and raging lust to the point of having to pleasure herself, not to mention the desperate display she'd made of herself after. She's tried to call him in like a siren, but he'd done exactly as he should have. He'd kept his distance despite the display she'd made of herself. That cut deep.

  Even now, seeing the glazed over look in his eyes as he played with his food after a few hours of waiting for her to get a massage, then her nails done, a full work up at the spa, all she could do was attempt to think of ways to piss him off. He ticked her off, so she paid it forward with robust determination. She'd ordered for them both from the salad of heirloom tomatoes, to the seared tuna, to the crème fraiche he now pushed around. He couldn't have looked more uncomfortable in the dinner jacket she had forced him to wear to adhere to the dress policy of the restaurant.

  While she should have been pleased with herself, should have been thrilled with the way she'd repaid Jason's nonchalant attitude–and bursting with glee at her accomplishment–instead, she felt let down, which only fueled her anger. A weight remained, slowing her heartbeat, rolling like a brick in her stomach. He hadn't even attempted small talk like he had in the past, at least asking her about growing up, school, the last few years since she'd been out. She'd taken his interest, obligation or not, for granted. While there had never been much to truly tell, she'd exercised her mind and made up some good shit each time. Or, so she'd thought. He'd at least seemed amused by her then. Now that he'd seen her naked, he couldn't even look her way despite the fact he obviously couldn't have been less interested in the golden, sugary cream he scooped up only to watch it slide back down off his spoon into the bowl.

  "Eat, damn it!" she hissed at him across the table, her tone low but forceful. Her anger laced words normally would have made any man cower. Yet Jason sat looking bored to death and entirely unaffected by her viscous display.

  "Look, Kathryn, you can make me stand outside of spa doors all day long while you make yourself relaxed and beautiful. You can force me to wear ridiculous looking, restrictive suits. You can even order my food for me for presentation sake. But, you can not make me put food in my mouth, chew, or swallow. A man has to have some boundaries. Besides, I'm saving my taste buds, and my hunger, for some wings and beer when we get back to the condo."

  He'd talked to the dessert rather than her, but she'd received his message loud and clear, though many of the words had been fuzzy, hard to understand, after he'd called her beautiful. Well, technically he'd said 'make herself beautiful', but that meant he thought at some point she could be, right? Maybe. Possibly. It was the first hint she'd gotten from him in days that he thought anything of her at all. Regardless, rather than this fact elating her, raising her mood, it seemed to fuel her bitterness. Something about his comment, an emotion she couldn't identify, made her eyes begin to burn before unexpected tears welled up in the corners. If he'd been paying any attention to her at all, he would have noticed. Thankfully, he'd already returned to ignoring her again.

  She tried to pull it together, biting her tongue to avoid lashing out at him. For some reason her cuts, witty comebacks, all remained frozen in her brain, unwilling to show themselves. When an audible groan bordering on a sigh escaped her throat, she grabbed her napkin up off her lap so fast she could feel the rake of her nails, perfectly painted today, across her thigh through her sundress. She carelessly, so unlike her, put the napkin to her eye to dab at the emerging tears that she caught his attention at just the wrong moment. She fumed as he looked at her, mouth hanging open like he'd realized for the first time she was a real girl, with real emotions and all.

  This infuriated her. She never let anyone see her innermost thoughts and feelings, not even herself, whoever the hell she was. She knew her role, had learned it at school, and she played it well. So well, in fact, it was who she'd become. The role she played was all she knew of herself. Tears were never, under any circumstances, allowed.

  "Kathryn?" He reached across the table only to hover his calloused hand inches above hers for a moment before he pulled it back.

  "Don't act concerned. I have something in my eye. Must have been that stupid lady who did my makeup," she tried to cover.

  "What, she got something in both of your eyes over an hour ago that is just now bothering you?"

  "A delayed reaction, asshole. Take me home. Or to that hell hole you call a condo so I can wash this shit off my face," she demanded.

  When he didn't move, just sat there dumbfounded, she pushed back her chair, purposely making the legs scratch across the floor, hoping she could walk to his side of the table and actually appear threatening. Like she could truly move the mountain of muscle that made up Jason with any physical effort. Her daddy's wallet could, though, and she intended to use that to her advantage. Before she could grab his arm and dig in her fingernails to make him stand, he did so on his own, moving his arm in tight to his body to avoid her touching him at all.

  Asshole. The word deafening, even just said internally.

  Chapter Four

  Jason had to remind himself about his duty to his friend, Pete, and his job every time this woman made him come close to losing his mind again. She had a knack of getting under his skin whether with her words or her looks. While two completely different types of irritation, he often existed on the edge of his breaking point either way. Between wanting to put her in her place and fuck her, the dominant male in him could only dream of a sexy as hell discipline session. Yet, the internal fight to keep such thoughts far from repeatedly flowing through his head remained alive and well.

  When he pulled the car up outside of the place they stayed, she got out immediately, yet again disobeying another simple order to stay in the car until he secured the perimeter and let her out. He took in their surroundings fast, too fast, as he followed her to the door. He had the keys, so even being a few steps behind her, the woman suddenly moving like she ran a sprint, she'd have to stop at the door. Then he could guard her body with his, careful not to get too close. Tedious, but necessary. The whole idea of being so close to her just about undid him, the familiar pulse that turned to an ache in his groin beginning when she slipped through the door.

  "Fuck," he yelled, preceded by his screaming out "Kathryn," as his run became a leap through the entranceway.

  It had been open, and no one but him and Pete had a key to this place. Pete would never stop by unannounced to a house with an armed guard in it. Jason rapidly scanned the living room as Kathryn disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  "Damn it, Kathryn," he yelled as he made his way to her door. He didn't bother to knock, his adrenaline fueling him, pushing him instinctively into his training, making him a protector, her bodyguard first and foremost.

  He entered the room accompanied by the soundtrack of her scream. His entrance precipitated a brief struggle between her and her attacker she easily lost. With his gun raised, aimed, finger poised over the trigger, he couldn't get a clean shot as the man used Kathryn like a shield. While the intruder struggled to move them both toward the already open window, which seemed odd given someone had broken in through the front door, Jason used the mirror to form a plan of attack to take the man down without harming his charge. Then he saw the message taped to the mirror, a threat that her attacker would soon take her.

  This was all a game to this man. He obviously didn't want to harm Kathryn, just scare her and her father. He was smart. Had made his way past the secured front door. He'd taken too stereotypical of a way of leaving a threat on the mirror, all in large cutout letters from various sources, and had probably been about to leave through the window he'd opened when Kathryn had stupidly stormed in on him. He'd clearly only tried to make a point that if he wanted to, he could do something. What he really wanted, his demands, would come nex
t. All the man probably sought now was a clean exit. Devoid of a clear shot without endangering Kathryn, Jason hoped his theory was correct.

  He remained poised, gun aimed if he got a chance at a shot, as the man shuffled them to the window, his arm tight about Kathryn's throat. Moving cautiously, Jason remained only a few inches away from them, ready to take a bullet for her if this creep drew a gun. He only cared that he could grab her once the man tried to exit out the window. Under no circumstances would this man take her from him, even if he had to die to pull it off. Ready as the stalker moved to step out the window, he found himself catching Kathryn as the stalker thrust her at him. The man's violent push sent her slamming into him so fast he had to stiffen his hand, take the impact of her body against his fingers on his gun without firing the weapon he'd been poised to shoot. A damn difficult maneuver, even for him.

  Without conscious thought, acting on pure instinct alone, he wrapped his free arm around her to secure her to him as he turned them both, putting his body not only between her and the stalker in case he decided to take a shot, but also between her and the ground they were soon to hit. And, hit they did, with a heavy thud. His ass hit the ground, his back the windowsill, and her body crushed his against both surfaces. He reached through the pain to pull down the window with an aching hand, still miraculously holding his gun, but he couldn't reach. He rolled to the side, pushed her to the ground, covered her with his body, and cautiously peered out the window.