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“Ms.Quinn, you can’t—”
Before I can finish my sentence, she’s off the gurney, losing her balance once more and falling into my arms. Her soft, plump breasts smash against my chest, and she’s got my unruly dick stirring in an instant.
Jesus Christ, woman!
“Shit! I’m sorry…I…Uh—Thank you.” She mumbles, her good hand lingering around my bicep a little too long.
I place her upright, trying to steady her, and she wavers dizzily back and forth, wincing in pain. I pick her up and plant her ass firmly on the gurney.
“Honey, you’re not going anywhere doped up on painkillers. I’m going to get the nurse to discharge you, then I’m taking you home.”
An hour later, we make our way through the hospital parking lot to my car. She doesn’t seem to mind I have one arm curled tightly around her waist, the other carrying her menacing heels. The ones I’m currently picturing her in, while I have her bent over my bed with her naked round ass up in the air.
We get to my car, and she stops on a dime, her brows drawn together. “What the hell is that?”
I smile proudly. “This baby is a 1969 Mustang Boss 429. My dad and I re-built this car.”
“It’s very red,” she teases, and I chuckle.
“Red’s my favorite color, and wait till you hear her motor hum like a—never mind.”
“Wow…okay…very inconspicuous for a bodyguard,” she says, still teasing. “How do I get in the back seat of this thing?”
“Why on earth would you sit in the back seat?”
“Well, you’re the bodyguard and I’m the un-sub…so…shouldn’t I sit in the back?”
“Un-sub?” I grin at her.
God, I don’t think she could get any cuter. I haven’t smiled like this in months, and why does this woman give me butterflies in my stomach?
“Melanie…an un-sub is an unknown subject. Someone suspected of a crime. Have you committed a crime?” A pink blush creeps up on her face, as she gently shakes her head. “You watch too many television shows, now get in the damn car. Unless you want me to put you in it bodily?”
Her eyes flash with a hint of mischief, and she peers up at me like she’s considering the second option.
The charged electrons floating through the car make the ride home intense. She sits quietly in her seat, shifting nervously as the tension grows thicker. I glance over at her, catching her giving me the once-over. Her alluring, sweet vanilla scent swirling through the car is doing things to my senses, and I can’t think straight.
“Slow down. It’s the house on the right.”
I pull into her driveway in front of the cutest, little southern style cottage. Its facade is white with beautiful oversized windows layered with black shutters.
“I can walk, you know,” she complains when I snake an arm around her waist, guiding her up the wooden steps of the wrap-around porch. The way her body cuddles into me, tells me she doesn’t mind the way I’m handling her.
“Thank you, I can get it from here.” She stands in front of her door, looking bashfully at the ground.
“Um…I’d like to come in and make sure everything’s secure before I leave. I need to make sure you’re safe.”
She lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t think any of this is necessary, but suit yourself.”
She struggles with her keys, scowling at me when I snatch them from her hand and open the door.
She enters first, flipping on some lights, and my eyes immediately delight in her super cozy living space. I survey the charming, elegant, open floor plan, clad with spicy brown hardwood floors. The black granite countertops compliment the white kitchen cabinets, making it warm and inviting and I need to remind myself I’m here to do a job.
Not move in.
She drops her bag on the coffee table and flops down onto the comfy beige sectional sofa, letting out a harsh breath.
“You live alone?”
