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Grinning, he whispers, “It’s alright, Em. I got you.”
“Please, I need these clothes off,” I whisper back, more harshly than I intended. But he merely kisses me again, deeply, and presses his length against my thighs until I’m almost there, so close to losing myself. Losing myself in him.
My eyelashes flutter as my body urges me forward, toward my first orgasm until the blood rushing in my ears is the only sound I can hear. And then, like a guitar string snapping, something deep within my core breaks, and I’m groaning into his mouth. I grind my hips against his, desperate to ride out my orgasm but frustrated he’s not inside of me. Why isn’t he inside of me? How has he not torn our clothing off yet?
Soon, like ocean waves ebbing away with the tide, my orgasm is over. Heat radiates throughout my entire body, making me pleasantly warm and slightly sweaty.
Xavian’s calloused fingers brush against my cheek before he kisses the crook of my neck.
“Feeling good?” he murmurs.
I run my palm down my face, suddenly embarrassed but unsure why. Being this exposed, even with my clothing on, is a bit too vulnerable for me. Not only does my bodyguard know my real name, but he also knows what my face looks like when I come. It feels strangely lopsided, unbalanced, because I don’t know as much about him. I’m at a disadvantage, and I hate being at a disadvantage. Sensing my discomfort, his brows furrow.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asks, so gently again. Xav is nothing but gentle and kind to me.
“No,” I mumble. “I … it’s just … we just dry humped on your bed. I haven’t done that since the tenth grade.”
Xavian lets loose a throaty chuckle that sends a bolt of heat down to my core. I may have just come, but I’m nothing if not endlessly hungry. Insatiable, the execs once called me. Someone they wanted under their label immediately because of my insatiable hunger for success.
Their gamble paid off, because they were right about my ambition. But in the bedroom, all that meant for me was an endless string of disappointments. Men who couldn’t tell you what a clitoris was, let alone where it was, and who came eons before I ever did. So many lonely nights of finishing myself off with vibrators.
But Xavian didn’t come. He got me off, then asked me how it was.
It’s baffling. I’m baffled.
“Well, we also slow danced in my bedroom to NSYNC, so I figured we’d just keep up the theme we had going.” He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at me with a wry smile.
“What’s the theme, Smells Like Teen Spirit?” I tease.
He laughs, then brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. I nip it, and a flicker of a smile moves across his face. “That’s my girl.”
“Oh, so I’m your girl now, hm?” I can’t help but tease him. I know this isn’t anything serious. I know that by tomorrow, he’ll be right back to being a consummate professional and we’ll pretend that none of this ever happened. But for right now, it’s kind of fun to pretend that I’m sixteen again. That, this time, I have a loving boyfriend who makes me see stars when I come instead of a father who hits me for the slightest perceived offense.
Yeah. This is good. This is really good, I decide.
But then Xav’s mien darkens, and he lowers his head to mine before kissing the top of it. “Only if you want to be,” he murmurs.
Goosebumps prickle across my arms as my body stiffens.
“What is this shampoo that you use?” he asks. “You always smell so good. Like an entire garden just walking around.”
I roll onto my back, resting my head against one of his pillows. That’s when I realize he has at least four on his bed, like a hotel. “Don’t change the subject. Also, it’s some fancy shit Tara gives me.”
“Tara?” He lowers himself beside me and drapes his arm around my middle. Then he reaches underneath my shirt and splays his palm across my stomach, just above my navel.
“She’s my hair stylist. Anyway, don’t change the subject. What did you mean by ‘only if you want to be?’ We’re just playing around, right?” I ask bluntly, though I’m terrified of his answer. But I learned a long time ago that beating around the bush with guys is a complete waste of time, and I don’t have any time to waste.
He winces, as though sensing my train of thought, then bites the inside of his cheek.
“Emily,” he breathes, and a chill runs through my body at the sound of my name—my real name—on his lips. “I’m your—”
“Bodyguard, I know. I’m aware. I’m the one who picked you, remember?” I stare up at the ceiling, unable to meet his eyes. Not after seeing the pained look in them a second ago. “I understand that this wasn’t anything. But it was fun. So, thank you.”
“Wow,” he exhales, and his arm slips away from my stomach. I mourn the loss of his touch as much as I understand it. A strange sort of tension moves between us, and I swallow thickly. “Em. I want to be with you. All I was going to say was that I’m your bodyguard. I’m on your payroll. It complicates things.”
My throat bobs as I turn to face him. His eyes darken in the dim lighting, and that’s when I realize we’ve been inside his room messing around for so long. The sun is setting.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Xav … I….” I, what?I want to be with you, too?Because I’m not sure if I even do, yet. I’m not sure about anything at all right now. Just recently, some guy had every intention of killing me. That’s no small thing. There’s every possibility that hooking up with Xavian is my body’s response to that incident. Trying to find comfort and a steady anchor amidst the storm that’s currently my life.
