Captive: A Bodyguard Romance (Hollywood Guardians Book 1)

by Heather Ashley

  "Maybe," she agrees before sauntering back to the other end of the bar to help a couple of the guys down there, and I groan.

  "You're in so much fucking trouble," Sin announces with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Gigi's club property, and not in the sweet butt way. Last time I was here, Devil had a standing hands-off order on her. No one can touch."

  Interesting. I wonder who she is—or was—to him, that he'd put that protection on her. I'll worry about it later. For now, I've got her name, and I remind myself again that I don't have room in my life for distractions right now. My eyes flick over to her again just as she throws her head back and laughs in the most captivating way I've ever seen.

  Her throat’s covered in fresh bruises and this possessive rage boils up that makes me want to kill whatever motherfucker dared touch her.

  I swallow hard as my treacherous dick presses against the fly of my jeans uncomfortably. Sin's one hundred percent right. I really am in so much fucking trouble.

  When you live and work in a biker clubhouse, guys covered in tats are a dime a dozen. They're not even worth a second look at this point.

  But this new guy, Shadow? In the couple days he’s been here my panties have remained soaked whenever he’s around, and not with sweat. He looks like the kind of guy who knows he's hot as fuck. That smug smile on his face as he runs his thumb across his bottom lip is obnoxious and so damn sexy I swear my clothes want to evaporate right off my body so he can do whatever he wants with me.

  What's up with that anyway? Is there some hot guy club that teaches them all how to pull a t-shirt over their head or swagger across a room or make a girl practically come with just a look alone? Or how about wiping a drop of beer off their lips in a way that makes you want to follow the trail with your tongue?

  He's got this look in his hazel eyes that’s wild and broken, but in a different way than most of the guys here. I want to dig in and see what secrets I can unearth. I want to expose his blackened soul to the light and see if it bursts into flames or rises from the ashes like a phoenix.

  I know he's dangerous because I feel all of that within thirty seconds of meeting him. His gaze follows me with every step I take. He's riveted, and I feel his stare raking over my body like a physical presence. My skin is heated, paths carved into it by his watchful eyes. The typically stifling air feels even hotter, and a bead of sweat slowly rolls down my neck and between my boobs.

  He watches it with rapt attention, and my tongue comes out to lick my lips. His gaze jerks up to catch the motion, and when his eyes lift to mine, they're smoldering. I swear I can see fire behind the blown pupils, and my entire body reacts like he's lit a match and set me ablaze.

  My nipples tighten behind my tank top, my heart pounds, and my knees go a little weak. My panties are absolutely ruined at this point, and all I want to do is climb over the bar, straddle him, and go for the ride of my life.

  If his looks are any indication, he knows exactly what to do with whatever he's got in his pants, too. If I could have custom ordered my fantasy hottest specimen of a man, it'd be Shadow. Almost every inch of skin covered in tattoos, dirty blond hair he wears messy on top where it's just a bit curly, sculpted arms, and if I had to guess, he has one hell of a six-pack underneath his clothes.

  I really hope I get to find out sometime.

  Even though his hazel eyes are light in color, they hold a darkness that calls to me. It's like his soul can speak directly to mine with one look, without having to say a word. A shiver works its way down my spine, and I have to look away.

  At this point, I'm chanting in my head a mantra of you don't want to end up with a biker over and over again because it seems like I've forgotten the one rule I set for myself. Something about Shadow screams different, but from what I've seen, the guys who sign up to be a part of the Reign of Chaos are pretty much all the same.

  Sure, Savage and his newly minted officers so far are different than every other biker I've known, but I bet in time they'll become exactly the same as Devil and his. I'm not holding my breath for things to change, and because of that, I have to try and ignore any feelings that might pop up for Shadow.

  The fact my stomach drops at the realization and the butterflies—motherfucking butterflies—that were already starting to flop around in there at the little bit of attention he's given me is unsettling enough.

  That doesn't mean I'm not wondering if I'm capable of exploring this apparent attraction between us without catching feelings. Somewhere in my brain, a screaming warning tells me to abort the mission and not go down this road at all because if I do, I might not be able to come out of it unscathed like I always have before.

  I shove that bitch right back in the box she came out of and throw a couple of chains around it just to be sure, tossing my hair over my shoulder and glancing back at Shadow. He's watching me with that same intensity, the one that drew me to him the second he stepped foot in the clubhouse. Suddenly, I'm so very aware of how empty the spot between my legs is and how much I want him to fill it up.

  It takes me all of two seconds to stop at the place he's occupying at the bar and lean forward, making sure to give him a glance down the front of my tank top. I'm usually super careful around these guys to not flash even a hint of my tits at them in case they try and take that shit as an invitation, but with Shadow, I want him to look.

  I'm also super happy I wore my prettiest black lace bra to work today on a whim.

  He takes the bait, not wasting any time before his gaze drops down, and I watch his body tense up. It looks like I'm having the same effect on him as he is on me, and that's why I lower my voice and offer up my next words. "You want to help me in the storage room for a minute? I think this keg needs to be changed."

  It's a flimsy excuse, and we both know it's bullshit, but he's nodding before I finish speaking, and I throw Lola a glance from where she's just stepped behind the bar. Sometimes I think she's got some sort of psychic ability when it comes to people needing to be rescued because she just gives me this huge smile and waves me off. Shadow grabs my hand before I'm even out from behind the bar, taking the lead and pulling me toward the back hall even though he has no idea where we're going.

  I let him lead until he passes the storeroom, and I pull back on his hand to get him to stop, tugging him inside. As soon as we step into the room, he closes the door behind him and flips the lock, then prowls toward me like I'm his prey. His lips are on mine before I can even blink. My back slams into the wall, and my fingers shove into his hair.

  His kiss is wild and hungry, and I feel the same way, so I kiss him back just as hard. My fingers tug his hair, and he groans, running his hands down my sides and gripping my hips. "You taste so fucking good," he murmurs. His voice is husky, and the back of my head hits the wall as I close my eyes and let the sensation of his lips and tongue and teeth on my neck push me toward oblivion.

  Shadow steps back, and my eyes fly open. I whimper at the loss of his body against mine, already missing every hard plane of muscle he's got and how they fit against my body like they were made to be there. He gives me a cocky as fuck smirk before he rips his shirt over his head and my mouth goes slack as I take him in.

  Need for him spirals through my body as my eyes rake down his inked chest, marveling at the artwork both on his skin and underneath that draws me in like he's a black hole and there's no possible way for me to resist his gravity. I blink, and he's on me again, his lips bruising mine, his hand grabbing mine and shoving it against his hard-on.

  Both of us groan at the contact because holy hell, I was right, and he's massive.

  The need to get him inside me, to fill that empty spot in my core that's desperate for him, is overwhelming, and I'm on the verge of begging him to rip off my clothes when his lips brush my ear. "You're going to come on my tongue," he purrs in my ear, and my thighs clench together. "And then I'm going to fuck you so hard, everyone in that bar's going to know because you won't be able to walk right when we’re done."

/>   All I could do was make this really horrendous half-whine, half-moan that somehow he must've found hot because he growled and dropped to his knees in front of me, unbuttoning my cutoff shorts and yanking them and my panties down so I could kick them off.

  His eyes darkened as he lifted my right thigh and slung it over his broad shoulders before he looked up at me with a sinful smile. "You better hold on, little demon."

  His tongue was like a hurricane, and my eyes roll back in my head at the first swirl. He starts with circles that make my knees buckle, so he grips my hips tighter. He holds my entire body weight up because I can’t focus enough to do it myself. He flicks my clit with his tongue over and over in a steady rhythm that reminds me of the waves of the ocean. I grip his hair to try and keep a grasp on reality as I hurtle toward an explosion so big, I don't know if there will be anything left of me to put back together after it's over.

  When he sucks my clit into his mouth and pushes a finger inside me at the same time, I detonate into a mass of pleasure, screaming so loud I'm pretty sure he got his wish. Everyone at the bar now knows he's intimately acquainted with my pussy. He sets my shaking leg back onto the ground, kissing one of my inner thighs and then the other before standing up and pressing his body against mine from shoulder to hip, trapping me back against the wall.

  He kisses me again so I can taste myself on his tongue, and when his length presses into my stomach, I know he’s getting off on it. "We're not even close to finished yet," he reminds me as if I don't know, as if my body isn't demanding more already.

  Shadow pops the button on his jeans open, so I can see the band of his boxer briefs. Then he steps back into my personal space, gripping my thighs and lifting me so I can wrap my legs around his waist. He rolls his hips forward, so his dick rubs across my entire pussy, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming again.

  He glares at me and pushes his body into mine so he can let my thigh go. He pops my lip free with his thumb. "Don't you fucking dare hold your screams in. I earned that shit, and I want to hear it."

  Well, okay then.

  Instead of going back to gripping my thigh, his hand pushes his pants and boxers down so his cock is free, and I look down, dying a little at how perfect it is. I know people don't usually refer to cocks as beautiful, but his is big and thick and has a piercing at the tip that I can't wait to feel inside me. "Holy fuck," I whisper in complete awe.

  He chuckles like he knows he's got a big dick and isn't surprised at all by my sudden desire to drop down onto my knees and worship it. Before I can say anything else, his mouth is on mine again, and my thoughts drift away until all I am is sensation and pleasure.

  Shadow doesn't say anything else, just lines himself up and thrusts inside me until there's nowhere else for him to go. He's as deep as he can get, and I grip onto him with every part of my body, both inside and out. I want to hold onto him so hard he'll never be able to go, but that's stupid, and I want to smack myself as soon as the thought crosses my mind. Instead, I rock my hips, trying to get him to move, but he doesn't budge, staring into my eyes like he can read my mind, and he knows exactly what I just thought, even if it was moronic.

  I try to look away, but he grabs my chin and forces me back until the only thing that exists in the entire universe is him. All I can see is into his soul through the depths of his eyes; all I can breathe is the air he exhales, and all I can feel is his body so deeply connected with mine we're practically one person.

  Without so much as blinking, he shifts his hips back and slowly, painfully slowly, draws out of me before driving back in, and I can't help but close my eyes and cry out his name like a prayer. At this moment, he's my salvation even if he may be my ruin in the end.

  He pounds into me, my back hitting the wall with every thrust, and I hope it goes on forever.

  His hard length fills me up in a way I've never experienced, and this whole situation feels completely out of control. All I wanted was one moment to explore this intense sexual chemistry we have, but this feels like so much more.

  He feels like so much more, like a missing piece I hadn't even started to search for.

  A groan works up his throat, my name ripping out of his lips like a confession as my inner walls clench around him. We're both breathing hard, lost in each other. He's taking my body higher and higher with every stroke of his cock inside me, the metal barbell hitting exactly the right place. With his next thrust, I'm coming, the pleasure radiating across my entire body in waves, my pussy twitching with aftershocks as he follows me over the cliff.

  He comes so hard, jerking so that I swear I can feel every pulsation of cum. His legs give out, and we crash to the floor in a heap, his body taking the brunt of the fall as I land on top of him, and we breathe each other in and wait to come down from what feels like a non-stop high.

  But eventually, all highs end, and the awareness that this wasn't just some casual hook-up starts to creep in. I'm not ready to deal with whatever this means, whatever just happened, so I climb off him and grab my shorts, slipping them back on while feeling his cum slide down my thigh.

  He's watching me with those soulful eyes, but I try to act like I'm not affected.

  "Where do you think you're going?" he asks me like he's forgotten I'm in the middle of my shift at the bar.

  "Um, back to work?" I say as sarcastically as I can manage because my walls are slamming back up hard. I sort of want to cry because of how perfect everything with him is and how I absolutely cannot get involved with a biker. I won't.

  "Seriously? Don't you want to talk about what just happened?" he asks me, and I'm confused as fuck. What kind of guy—what kind of biker guy—wants to talk after sex?

  "No. The sex was awesome; thanks for the orgasms. I've gotta get back to work." I try to go for casual nonchalance, but I'm dying a little inside.

  He looks confused, but that turns into a look of determination I probably shouldn't like as much as I do. "If that's how you want to play this, little demon. You should know I never stop until I get what I want, and after what we just did, there's no going back. You're going to be mine."

  A shiver races down my spine at his words but not because I'm afraid, but because I like them a little too much. I turn without saying anything—because what can I say to that?—and leave the room, walking back to the bar with a delicious kind of soreness between my legs that makes me walk a little funny.

  Damn him.

  Lola gives me a knowing look, and then when Shadow steps out of the hallway a few minutes later, looking thoroughly fucked with messy hair and disheveled clothes, I can't help the small smile that forms on my lips. That shit is short-lived, though, when Crystal, Candy, Chastity, and Jade—or as I like to call them, the Cunt Club—, a bunch of sweet butts, makes their presence known by taking up one side of the bar.

  I reluctantly go over into their space to get whatever trashy wine-cooler-esque drinks they want and find myself in the middle of the four of them trying to stake their claim on the new guy. My hackles go all the way up, which I don't like one bit because he's certainly not mine.

  But it sort of feels like he is, which I hate and love at the same time. It's confusing, so I shove it aside.

  "By the end of the night, he'll be in my bed," Crystal announces, and I try not to roll my eyes and fail. She doesn't see it, so at least I don't have to deal with her whiny voice aimed in my direction.

  I'm not so lucky with Chastity, who plasters on the fakest smile I've ever seen and looks at me with her calculating eyes. "Gigi, there you are. Do me a favor and get the new guy a whiskey. Make sure you tell him it's from me."

  A whiskey. How original.

  I decide to ignore her because there's no way in hell I'm helping any of the Cunt Club sink their poisonous fangs into Shadow.

  Jade glares at me. Her name doesn't fit the club, but her attitude does, so I go with it. "She gave you an order, slave. Get to it." She snaps her fingers at me, and out of the corner of my eye, I see Shadow bristle. Of cou
rse, he's been watching this entire interaction.

  This time, I don't ignore them. This time, I give them back my biggest fuck you smile and toss the rag I'd been holding onto the bar. "Oh, no,” I gasp dramatically. “My shift's over. Guess you'll just have to throw yourselves at the new guy all on your own."

  I turn, and Lola gives me a knowing grin and a salute. Thank god for her because, without her, I'd be lost here some days. I know she'll close down the bar for me, so I leave it all behind, ignoring Shadow’s stare burning into my back, hobbling back to my room to grab my sketchpad and then outside into the cool night air.

  I take a second to stare up at the stars wondering how the hell it could feel like my entire life shifted on its axis in just one night. Not wanting to think about that anymore tonight, I head to the garage, climbing up the ladder into the loft to get lost in my art.

  It's always been my dream to open my own tattoo studio. There's something about my art being permanently etched onto someone's skin that resonates within my soul. I look down at the girl on the bike outlined in charcoal on the page, her hair blowing in the wind as she rides into the sunset, and all I see is freedom. Someday, that'll be me.

  I don't care how long it takes; I will be free.

  "How long are you staying?" The one with Grim stitched across his left chest eyes me over his steaming mug of coffee.

  I lift one shoulder and let it drop. "No idea. I figure I need a change of pace, and this seems like as good a place as any." I try to go for nonchalance and hope they buy it. I've been in so many undercover-type situations I can't even remember them all. In all that experience, I've learned being vague and acting like you don't really give a shit about anything are the best courses of action. If you want something too much, people get suspicious.

  He watches me another minute or so before his attention moves back to the plate of breakfast food in front of him. No doubt I'd still be in bed replaying every second of my time with Gigi last night right now if Saint, the Reign of Chaos's brand new VP, hadn't banged on my door right after the damn sun came up this morning.