Protect Me - A Steamy Bodyguard Romance (You Can't Resist a Bad Boy Book 5)

by Layla Valentine

  Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I offered him my hand while silently nodding, not trusting myself to speak.

  Owen laughed, slipping the ring onto my finger before leaping to his feet. He gathered me in his arms, pressing a kiss to my forehead as his parents clapped joyously in the background.

  “Congratulations! Oh my, I’m so happy I could see this moment,” Barb squealed, while Gary smiled, giving us a nod of approval. “I just have one teensy tiny question, you two,” the older woman continued.

  Owen looked at her as if he could predict what she was going to say.

  “What is it, Mom?” he asked, glancing towards me with a sly smile.

  “When can I expect grandkids?” she said seriously.

  Owen grimaced, but it was all I could do to keep from erupting in laughter.

  “First, the wedding. Then, grandkids,” Owen’s father said firmly.

  I couldn’t have agreed more.

  Chapter 24

  Emily

  Our wedding was a small ceremony that was only made possible by selling the necklace my father had given me what seemed an eternity ago. Of course, I’d asked his permission before doing so.

  It turned out that my father had turned himself over to the FBI around a week after my disappearance. He was finally ready to make things right, and he could see why I had chosen to leave behind the life that had been forced upon me. We spoke on the phone every few weeks, and I had been to see him in prison.

  We’d decided to move to Mexico after our U.S. road trip, having fallen in love with a beach town we found on our travels. It was the perfect mix of what felt like home to each of us—just as tropical and beautiful as Guam and Hawaii. Plus, there was no risk of the FBI finding out Owen had stolen me away and married me.

  It was a small ceremony, and a short one as well. Owen and I were eager to get to the house we’d purchased, using what money remained from Owen’s service with the SEALs. I wished my father could have been there to give me away, but things didn’t always go as one might have planned.

  However, there was something to be said about pleasant surprises. After all, I’d never planned to get kidnapped and marry my captor, and yet there he stood at the end of the aisle, tears in his eyes as I walked along to the tune of the bridal march.

  It was a beautiful moment, but there was something to be said for simplicity. We exchanged our vows, slipped on our rings, and all but danced away from the service. Getting married was the happiest moment of my life by far, but I was also ready to enjoy the honeymoon in our new home.

  The house was nowhere near as extravagant as the estate I’d grown up in, but it was still plenty spacious. What it lacked in size, we made an effort to make up for with amenities. We got a jet bathtub and the comfiest couch we could find, and the view from the back porch was truly stunning, looking out over the ocean. My main concern at the time, however, was our king-size bed.

  Owen carried me over the threshold of the front door like a proper gentlemanly groom, and as I was carried through the house, I couldn’t help making a mental note of all the places I wanted Owen to make love to me besides the master bedroom. The tub, the sofa, against the refrigerator, and even on the porch all seemed suitable decisions.

  For our first time as husband and wife, however, my gorgeous military man wanted to keep it traditional.

  My new husband didn’t waste any time in pinning me to the bed, and as much as I wanted to keep my dress from getting rumpled, I was all the more concerned about getting out of it. He helped me to shimmy out of the garment, pulling it off and tossing it to the side of the room as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Truth be told, neither of us seemed to have any concerns while we were in each other’s arms. He kissed me gently, holding his lips against mine in a tender kiss. I pulled him down on top of me, running my hands down his sides as I marveled, not for the first time, at how handsome he was in his suit.

  A shame to rip him out of it, but I had never been the most patient woman in the world.

  “If you don’t take that suit off, I’m not going to guarantee it will survive as anything more than tatters on the floor,” I said, my voice husky.

  He laughed, moving to unbutton his jacket so slowly that I was sure Christmas would come and go before he got it off.

  I pouted, trying to help him as he disrobed. However, he simply took off his tie, tying my hands behind me so I couldn’t jump the gun.

  “You’ve gotten so impatient; it’s hard to believe you went 21 years without having sex, and now look at you,” he teased, grinning cheekily.

  I whined, but didn’t tug too hard at the tie restraint. Honestly, it was kind of sexy, and I didn’t want to get out of it until my new husband directly expressed that he wanted me to.

  He pressed me back against the bed, looking so deeply into my eyes it was like he could see my very soul.

  “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment?” I asked, breathing a sigh as he ghosted his palm to my breast.

  He hummed under his breath, seeming to give the question some thought.

  “I guess since I asked you to marry me a month ago. What a long and tortuous month it must have been,” he teased.

  All right, so maybe I was being just a tiny bit dramatic. How could anyone blame me? I was the luckiest woman in the world, with the most handsome husband in the world.

  “I never actually thought I’d wind up married. Excuse me for being a little excited,” I sighed, tilting my head back as he kissed my neck and began to suck.

  I could tell that he was going to leave a mark, and I had no doubt that marking me as his own was very much all part of his plan. He nipped at the bruising skin, kissing his way down my chest. He had offered to shave his stubble for the wedding, but I so loved the feeling of it against my skin. It tickled, feeling the slightest bit scratchy against my breast, but I loved every minute of it.

  “Well, just because you’re excited doesn’t mean you get to be a bad girl,” he teased, tracing his fingertips down the expanse of my stomach.

  As he dipped his hand beneath my underwear, I breathed a sigh as he dragged his finger along my lower lips, gathering the moisture there. I’d been turned on from the moment I saw him in his fancy suit, but I wasn’t going to give him a big ego by saying as much.

  Owen laughed mischievously, and I grumbled, feeling even more moisture gather in spite of myself.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You either got worked up really fast, or you’ve been thinking about this all day,” he teased.

  I rolled my eyes, giving my hips a suggestive little jerk.

  “You say that like you haven’t been thinking about it all day. Anyway, enough talk—aren’t you going to show me why I married you?”

  He didn’t seem to mind my attitude, pulling down my panties and watching me lovingly.

  “And here I thought it was for my personality,” he teased, shifting out of his dress pants and boxers.

  I sighed as he lowered himself on top of me, nudging my thighs gently and stroking himself all along my entrance. I whined at the teasing, but he didn’t seem inclined to give me what I wanted all that soon.

  I parted my lips to complain, only for a sharp squeal to erupt from me as he plunged inside.

  “Mouthy, mouthy girl,” he scolded, grinning.

  “Oh, you love what I do with this mouth,” I moaned, wishing my hands were free to tangle in his golden locks.

  There was something about not being able to touch him, though, something that brought me to new heights. He moved slowly, patiently, working me up to an agonizingly pleasurable peak before I could even properly beg him to make me his. That didn’t stop the words from spilling past my lips, however. I wrapped my legs around him, the one thing I could do to edge him closer.

  Continuing to keep an even and steady pace, I wasn’t sure how many orgasms he’d subject me to until he finally came. I thoroughly enjoyed the process of finding out, though.


  When he pressed his lips desperately to mine and began to piston furiously inside of me, I had already orgasmed four times. When he emptied himself inside of me, filling me to the brim with even a bit of spillover, it made for the fifth.

  “Oh my God,” he moaned, falling limp beside me.

  He drew me into his arms, resting his chin atop my head as I nuzzled into his chest.

  “So, this is what it’s like to be married,” I murmured, sighing as he untied my hands.

  I caressed his cheek, feeling so much love in that moment that I thought my heart might burst. He seemed equally taken with the moment, tilting his head to meet my gaze.

  “Well, that’s the fun part, anyway,” he replied.

  I rolled my eyes, giving him a light shove.

  “One of the fun parts. It’s exciting to think about the future we’ll spend together, isn’t it? Wild and free, without a care in the world. We have the rest of our lives to have fun together. I can’t think of anyone I would rather spend my days with. I love you, Emily,” he murmured.

  I felt tears pool in my eyes and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

  “I love you, too. Here’s to our future. Here’s to love. Here’s to us,” I said softly.

  He chuckled, his breathing slowing to an even pace as he gave himself to the exhaustion of a long day spent making memories. I took comfort in the fact that we had years to make millions of wonderful memories together.

  Placing my hand on my stomach, I giggled as I wondered if we would be fulfilling his mother’s wishes sooner than anyone expected. Happily, I fell asleep, knowing only one thing for certain about our future.

  I would never have to live in a cage again.

  The End

  What does the future hold for Emily and Owen?

  Subscribers to my mailing list get an exclusive epilogue absolutely FREE

  CLICK HERE TO GET IT NOW

  Royal Baby: His Unplanned Heir

  Layla Valentine & Ana Sparks

  Last but not least is a sweet and sexy secret baby romance from me and Ana.

  Royal Baby: His Unplanned Heir is up next in full!

  Copyright 2018 by Layla Valentine and Ana Sparks

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

  All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Antonio

  Sunlight blared through the curtains and I grimaced as I rolled over onto my stomach. A wave of nausea washed through my body as I burrowed into the warm and inviting blankets, every fiber of my being wishing morning hadn’t yet arrived. My muscles ached and I had a pounding migraine, but I couldn’t help but smile as I thought about the events of the night before.

  I had spent the previous night on a friend’s yacht, enjoying one of the best parties I could have asked for with my pick of the social elite. Booze had flowed freely among us, with the women as plentiful and beautiful as the flowers on the Italian hillside. It had been a gathering fit for royalty.

  And royalty I was.

  I was Prince Antonio di Maggio, and my parents were the King and Queen of the Kingdom of San Paluzzi, one of wealthiest micronations in the world. Tucked within Italy and filled with only the crème de la crème of European society, this was the place anyone who dreamed of success hoped to land. Luxurious houses dotted the landscape and gated communities were the norm. It was the one place on the planet that I would consider absolute paradise—and one day it was all going to be mine.

  Right now, Mother and Father did all of the work, tending to the major decisions and ensuring the lasting prosperity of all who were a part of the community, and I respected them for it. I hoped one day I might be able to rise to the same level of greatness they had, and show not only San Paluzzi but the entire world that I was an effective leader.

  But, in the meantime, I was going to enjoy my youth as much as possible. Of course, this meant I was going to spend my nights at the latest party, flirting with only the prettiest women, then sleep off the effects of the night before in the pampering luxury of my family’s yacht. Life couldn’t have been going any better for me, and I was certain nothing was ever going to change.

  A knock at the door roused me from my dozing state, and I looked over my shoulder with a groan. I couldn’t see what time it was with my phone lying face down on my night stand and the room still too dim to make out the hands on the clock which hung on the opposite wall. When the knock persisted, I groggily answered in my most annoyed voice.

  The door opened and my butler walked in. I knew it was him, but I still acted surprised that he would dare to bother me so early in the morning. At least, I assumed it was early—it was hard to know for sure with the light blinding me and my headache making it nearly impossible to think clearly.

  I allowed my head to fall heavily back on the pillow, doing my best to show him how disinterested I was in any business he brought to me.

  “What do you want, Moretti?” I snapped.

  “I’ve a message for you, Prince Antonio. It came directly from the King.”

  He stood holding a piece of paper in his hand, and I lifted my head once more in surprise. It was rare for my father to pay any extra attention to me these days. It was my duty to show up to the parties, meetings, and dinners he told me to show up for, and that was about it. If there was anything of any importance, it was discussed then.

  “What does it say?” I asked, the concern in my voice masked with disinterest and distance.

  “They are summoning you to the palace immediately,” Moretti replied flatly. I could hear how unimpressed he was with the way I was treating the situation, but I really didn’t care. It wasn’t up to him to judge how I ran my life.

  “How immediately is immediately?” I asked sarcastically. I knew what he—and they—wanted, but I embraced my princely rights and knew I was going to run the day on my own clock as I always did. I would have appreciated him bringing me breakfast along with the note, and I wasn’t going to make his job any easier than it needed to be.

  “You know how his majesty feels about being kept waiting. Her majesty, too. They sent this early this morning in the hope that you would be there in time for breakfast—which, as you know—is eight o’clock sharp.” He spoke with an air of loftiness and I felt anger burn in my chest.

  “You mean it’s not even eight yet?! How dare you wake me this early! I have a splitting headache, my body hurts, and I feel sick—I have half a mind to tell you to get out until lunch, Moretti!” I snapped with as much passion as I could muster, but there was little change in his expression.

  He walked over to the window and threw open the curtains, causing light to flood into the room. I, of course, grabbed the pillow and flung it over my eyes, swearing at the man for his incompetence. Moretti, by contrast, seemed entirely untouched by my disdain.

  “My apologies, but my orders do come from the King, and he directed me to get this to you as soon as possible. I know it’s…inconvenient, but my hands were tied.” He left the note on the nightstand next to me and walked back to the door. “I’ll have the limo ready and waiting for you, sir,” he said as he grabbed the handle and closed me inside my room once more.

  I groaned as I reached out and took the note from my father. Moretti was right—it was a summons, and nothing more. He and my mother wished for me to appear and dine with them for breakfast—within the hour.

  Sure, I could get there on time if I were to hurry, but feeling like I was, hurrying was the last thing I was planning to do. I didn’t feel well, and I had no intention of doing anything that made
me feel worse. After lying in bed a few minutes longer, I finally rose and made my way to the bathroom.

  I took a long shower and groomed my beard carefully, admiring myself in the mirror the entire time. Yes, I knew I was conceited, but I had every right to be. My arms were muscular and my stomach tightly toned, boasting a six pack and chiseled obliques. My dark tattoos that snaked down each bicep and onto my forearms only added to the elusive and mysterious look I was so proud of.

  I grabbed a comb and yanked it through my jet-black hair. Though I was 29 years old, I had the body of someone who was closer to 24. My hair was thick and soft, my body hard as a rock. I was irresistible to women, and I knew it. I pulled on my tight, ripped jeans and a T-shirt that showed every muscle on my torso and headed toward the door.

  I didn’t bother looking at the clock—I would get there when I got there, and Mother and Father were just going to have to deal with it. I climbed into the back of the limo and the driver started off in a shot. He, like Moretti, was more concerned with the King and Queen’s wishes than mine, and I was more than happy to let them be the ones to worry.

  I turned my attention out the window, wondering what I possibly could have done that would warrant such an order from Father. It seemed he was always upset about something, and I could only imagine what it was this time. I knew I wasn’t living up to their expectations, but I was young and I deserved to have a good time. I’d seen what the throne did to them, and I wasn’t at all eager to see that happen to me.

  We pulled up to the palace and I cracked my knuckles. I wanted everyone to think that I was far from nervous, but in reality, I could feel a knot in the base of my stomach. Some of it was the hangover, I knew, but most of it was not wanting to hear what my parents had to say. The limo stopped in front of the doors and I got out.