Her Protector

by Rianna Campbell

  His lips were soft and warm and they worked on hers in slow languid movements. He nipped her lower lip gently and then soothed it with the slide of his tongue. Alexandra had never been kissed like this. So thoroughly, so sensually. Her knees went weak, and all she could do was curl her fingers into his shirt and hold on.

  ✽✽✽

  So sweet.

  She tasted like coffee and sunshine. He moved his hand to the small of her back and pressed her more firmly against him. Her body was so supple, so lush. Soft and firm, and round, and warm. He kept the kiss leisurely. He wanted to take his time and taste and tease. He wanted to memorize every second of it.

  He swept over her lips with a glide of his tongue and her lips parted. He probed, gently, with shallow laps at her upper lip. A slight brush of her tongue with his. She pulled on his shirt, and pushed up on her toes, seeking more of his mouth.

  He growled and deepened the kiss. It became hungrier, more urgent. Their tongues twisted and slid against each other. She nipped his lower lip and held it between her teeth. He groaned and tipped her head back further, trying to get deeper still. His other hand roamed down her back and onto her glorious backside. He squeezed and kneaded the flesh in his palm. He caressed and stroked down to her thigh and then lifted it, urging her leg around him.

  She gasped as the bulge in his jeans connected with the valley of her thighs. He hitched her leg higher and she gasped again. He rocked his hips forward slowly until she was moaning. He devoured all those sweet sounds she made until his lungs were screaming for air. He broke the kiss and they were both breathing hard, but neither wanted to lose the connection. Their lips met again and again. Soft kisses, teasing touches, a nip, a lick.

  He wanted her so badly his legs were shaking. He wanted nothing more than to pick her up and haul her back to bed. Or maybe strip her down and lay her on the kitchen island like his own personal feast. And he would taste everything. His hand slid down her back and around her side. He slipped it beneath the hem of her shirt and inched it upwards. He traced her ribcage with the same thumb that had traced her mouth.

  She trembled and her back arched further into him.

  That’s it.

  He closed his mouth over hers again, ravishing her mouth the way he wanted to ravish her body. His hand slid up over the soft cotton of her bra and found her erect nipple. He swept over it with the pad of his thumb, back and forth, and then in a small slow circle. She gave a long low groan and he almost came then and there.

  Definitely the counter.

  He pulled his mouth away and lifted her up onto the counter. She made a small squeak but quickly wrapped both legs around his waist. Connor kissed her neck, just below her ear, soft sweet kisses. Then he nipped gently. Then he planted open mouthed kisses until he reached the curve of her shoulder. He licked and sucked until she was writhing under his mouth.

  Both hands found the hem of her shirt and skated along her smooth, warm skin until he palmed both perfect breasts. Her back arched, her legs tightened, and her breathing increased. He rocked his hips into her, the heat of her seeping through their clothing to surround him.

  His jeans were painfully tight and his heart was beating a frantic staccato rhythm. Want, need, want, need, want, need…

  He trailed one hand down the flat expanse of her stomach and traced just below the waistband of her pants.

  Thank God for yoga pants.

  He could easily slip his hand south and touch her. She would be warm and wet.

  For me.

  Something shrill pierced the haze of lust and he ignored it.

  Too good, too sweet…

  It trilled again and he realized it was his cell phone.

  For the love of...

  ✽✽✽

  Connor pulled away and swore viciously. He pulled his phone from his pocket, his knuckles white as if he was trying to squeeze the thing until it shattered. Alexandra hadn’t even heard it ring. She’d been so lost in Connor’s touch, his mouth on her skin, that a marching band could have swept through and she wouldn’t have noticed. Or cared.

  “What?” Connor snarled.

  Alexandra flinched just a bit, but his hand was on her thigh, stroking lazily, reassuringly. He gave her an apologetic look and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

  “What? No.” He snapped. “No, stay there.” He hung up the phone without another word. He tipped his head, putting his forehead to hers and letting out a frustrated sigh.

  “I have to go.” His voice was thick, angry. “I won’t be long. Stay here, lock the door. I’ll be back as soon as I can.

  Alexandra nodded dumbly. Her head was still spinning and she didn’t trust her voice. She grudgingly opened her legs, releasing him, and he reluctantly stepped back toward the door. Half way there, he spun and grabbed her off the counter. He kissed her again, greedily. He gentled the kiss and it ended sweet and soft. Without a word he walked away.

  She heard him go upstairs, and return a few minutes later with his things. She went out to meet him by the door just as he was leaving.

  He gave her a wink and a wolfish grin. “Be back before you know it.”

  Alexandra locked the door behind him and returned to the kitchen in a daze.

  CHAPTER NINE

  What the hell just happened?

  She’d almost had sex with Connor on her kitchen counter. She couldn’t even wrap her head around it. It would have happened. It had been as inevitable as death and taxes. And then what? What would have happened after? Would they just go back to being Protectee and Bodyguard? Would he want to date? The thought of a relationship practically gave her a panic attack.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to meet someone and fall in love, but she was… damaged. There was no way around it. She had panic attacks, trust issues, and was a serious control freak. She’d tried. Lord, had she. She’d gone out with a few guys in the last eight years and in the beginning it went well enough, but at a certain point it became clear that they weren’t interested in someone with so many issues.

  And after that, she doubted she’d even be able to get that far with anyone without being a basket case from constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. She groaned in frustration. She didn’t want a hook-up. She liked Connor. A lot more than she wanted to admit. But she wasn’t sure he’d like her quite so much after she’d laid out all her personal boundaries and requirements in order to even consider the possibility of having a relationship with him.

  This wasn’t getting her anywhere, so she decided to put it out of her mind and focus on it later. It worked well at work when she was stumped or frustrated with a problem. She would take a step back, let her emotions settle and come back to it with a clear head.

  She’d started breakfast before… all that, so she decided she should finish it and eat. She boiled and then fried potatoes, whisked eggs and quickly had enough food for two. She ate too much of it and then set about cleaning up. She washed the dishes and put them away, wiped down the counter and cleaned the stove. It had been an hour and a half by the time she was done and Connor still hadn’t come back. She poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down to read the paper.

  That only killed twenty minutes or so since there was nothing worth reading. She decided that she needed to make a grocery list. Maybe she should cook for Connor tonight?

  The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. She liked to cook but it was anticlimactic to cook just for herself. She had the occasional dinner party just to have an excuse to cook whatever she felt like just for the pleasure of it. It also let her spend time with few close friends in a space where she could be completely at ease.

  She grabbed a notebook and a pen and went to work. When she was satisfied with her list, she went to the fridge and surveyed the contents. It needed a cleaning out. Once that was done it was nearly three o’clock. She checked her phone for the tenth time. Still nothing. Maybe she should call him.

  You’re being ridiculous.

&nbs
p; She decided to try and enjoy the quiet. She picked up her and turned on the gas fireplace. She snuggled up on the couch with a throw blanket and settled in to read. But she did more thinking than reading. She replayed the events of the morning over and over again.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d never wanted someone so badly and it was frightening. Maybe he would be worth the effort of trying again. If he wanted to. Did he want to?

  Okay, so what if? Even if all he wanted was a roll in the proverbial hay, she couldn’t deny she wanted the same thing. If this morning was any indication, it would be mind-blowing. The memory alone would probably be enough to keep her warm all winter. As long as I don’t freak out and ruin it.

  She was still pondering the pros and cons, very rationally, an hour later when she finally gave up on the book. She sat brooding, staring into the fireplace for God knows how long until she’d had enough. There was no point. What happened had happened. There was no guarantee it would happen again, and she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Her therapist always told her to take things one day at a time.

  She grabbed her iPod, plugged it into the dock in the livingroom and set it to random. She dusted, vacuumed, cleaned the windows and generally did anything else that needed doing, dancing and singing all the while. When she finally decided to sit down and take a break, she felt much better.

  It was dark and she was hungry. She debated ordering takeout, wondering if it was safe to do so, and then decided since she hadn’t specifically been told not to, she should be fine as long as she was careful. Clearly she wasn’t going to get to the store or do any cooking tonight, and there was nothing to eat.

  When the food arrived, she sat in the living room watching The Office and eating her pork lo mein. When she was done, she considered calling Conor for the millionth time. It had been hours and she hadn’t heard anything. What if something had happened to him?

  At some point, Alexandra fell asleep on the couch. She would have been there all night but her phone chirped. Once… twice… three times.

  CM:Sorry. Got held up.

  CM:This is Sam. He’ll pick you up at 8:00.

  The third message was a photo of a man in this mid thirties. Clean cut, dark hair, blue eyes. And hot in an All-American-Boy-Next-Door sort of way. The photo was only from the chest up, but his shoulders were massive. He had a strong jaw, a straight nose, and a small scar on his left eyebrow. Obviously former military. Fierce, sexy and unapologetically masculine. Just like Connor.

  Is that a requirement for employment there or something?

  She was amused at the thought. Perhaps they figured if they employed incredibly handsome, intimidating men they could just scowl and perps would flee in terror. And if the perp was female, all they’d have to do was smile and they’d faint.

  Her amusement quickly faded as she reread the terse messages.

  What the hell? Eleven hours…

  He’d been gone for eleven hours and he was just now getting in touch? It was a good thing she didn’t have anywhere to be today since she’d been left without a babysitter. Even if she wasn’t owed any explanation because they had been playing tonsil hockey in her kitchen minutes before he left, she at least deserved one in a professional capacity.

  Instead, she’d waited around all day for him to call or text or show up and apparently he hadn’t even thought about her until now. She felt stupid and angry and she was suddenly very glad she wouldn’t have to see him first thing tomorrow morning. She couldn’t go to court for her client if she was in jail for manslaughter. Although, if she packed the jury with women there was no way they’d convict her.

  ✽✽✽

  Connor was absolutely drained. Today had been a shit storm of epic proportions. He’d left Alexandra expecting to be back in a couple hours, but everything had quickly gone tits up. His sister had called from a car dealership in a panic because she couldn’t find anything she could afford because they didn’t offer her as much in trade for her old car as she’d expected. Why she expected they’d give her anything for that piece of shite car was beyond him.

  While he was ignoring her protests and signing the paperwork for her new car, he’d gotten a call from Jackson who was currently working a fixed term protection detail. One day only. A visiting businessman from Atlanta with a persecution complex had hired them to escort him from the airport to his meeting and then directly back to JFK for his return flight.

  Basically what he’d wanted was a driver who carried a gun. He didn’t want to follow protocol or listen to Jackson, who had coincidentally been a marine for eight years and done three tours in Afghanistan and knew what the feck he was doing. He insisted Jackson deviate from the previously determined route for a “quick stop.” Which had turned out to be for the purposes of acquiring some very expensive, and very illegal, recreational drugs. Whether he intended to take them back to Atlanta with him or partake of them on the way to the airport, Jackson wasn’t sure.

  He tried to tell him that the neighborhood was dangerous and reminded him that our contract states they were not liable for injuries incurred as a result of illegal activity, but he insisted there was nothing to worry about.

  Dumb fucker had gotten himself shot by the drug dealer and only made it out alive because Jackson managed to disarm the dealer, apply pressure to the leg wound and call the police. Now the moron was in the hospital, cuffed to a gurney, threatening to sue everyone at the top of his lungs. It wouldn’t hold up in any court in the city, or the country for that matter, but Connor had had to get a statement from Jackson and spent the afternoon with his attorney making sure he was covered.

  After that disaster, there’d been an emergency alert from one of their highest paying clients that turned out to be genuine for a change. Normally he would have let one of the guys handle it, but he’d given Jackson the rest of the day off and he wanted to make sure someone was there to hold the client’s hand through the process.

  Nothing had been stolen, no major damage had been done and the system they’d installed had functioned perfectly, and yet, the client still wanted to spend an hour after the police left discussing what possible upgrades could be made to prevent future problems.

  Some punk had broken a damn window. They tripped the alarm immediately and couldn’t get through the metal bars on the windows anyway. There was absolutely no risk that the perimeter would actually be breached. He wanted to know how he could literally avoid glass breaking. He was unhappy with the quotes Connor gave him for the installation of bullet-resistant and bullet-proof glass.

  It had been a perfect storm, and by the time he dragged himself back to his apartment, it was after ten. He took a shower, changed his clothes and texted Alexandra so she wouldn’t be scared or surprised when someone else showed up tomorrow morning to take her to work.

  He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep for a week. He’d call her tomorrow and explain. Maybe he’d even take over for Sam and pick her up after work. He’d check his schedule in the morning.

  He rarely spent this much time on a case personally, but Hughes had wanted the job to start right away and all his guys were otherwise engaged this weekend.

  Thank God.

  He really should start looking to add a couple more guys soon. They were turning away jobs and still making a decent profit. They could afford to expand a bit.

  As Connor climbed into bed and closed his eyes, thoughts of work disappeared and all that he could think about was Alexandra. Her face, her lips, her body. The smell of her hair and all the sexy noises she’d made when he’d had his mouth and his hands on her.

  He would have given his right arm to be able to finish what they started this morning. He decided then and there that whatever he had on his schedule tomorrow afternoon could be rescheduled. He’d pick her up from work, take her to dinner and then they could pick up where they left off.

  ✽✽✽

  Monday crawled by. Sam had been polite and professional when he arrived and Alexandra ha
d tried not to be short with him. It wasn’t his fault that Connor had been an ass. Connor called the office twice and she told Janie to tell him she was in a meeting. He’d texted her as well and she’d dutifully ignored him. She skipped lunch and worked late and was famished by the time she called Sam at 7:30.

  Janie was long gone, so she locked up and went to wait for Sam in the lobby. She heard the elevator doors ding before she reached the bank. Sam must have come up for her. He must have been on his way or somewhere nearby. She hoped he hadn’t been hanging around all day waiting for her.

  She turned the corner toward the elevator and stopped. Connor.

  God, he’s delicious.

  NO! We’re mad at him. Don’t get distracted.

  He really did look amazing. He’d foregone the jeans, t-shirt and hoodie that he’d worn all weekend. Instead he wore a pair of grey slacks, perfectly tailored, that hung low on his hips. His white shirt was fitted and pristine. He wore his black wool peacoat with the color turned up against the October chill. It was as if he’d stepped right out of an add for Gucci.

  When he saw her he gave her a slow sexy smile filled with seduction and Alexandra’s heart practically stopped. She locked that shit down and gave him a nonchalant glance as she brushed past him toward the elevator.

  “Where’s Sam?” She asked. He blinked, and pursed his lips, the smile disappearing.

  “Home, probably. I told him to let me know when you called and I’d pick you up.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “That’s what I said.” Alexandra replied flatly. The doors pinged and opened and she stepped in, pressing the button for the lobby.

  “You’re mad.” Connor sighed. Stepping in beside her

  “I’m not mad.” She shrugged. “I’m mildly annoyed.”

  “Really?” He said skeptically.