Billionaire Bodyguard (12 page)

“It’s lovely.” She hesitated then turned to go.

“Wait. You haven’t seen the best part.” His eyes twinkled. Curiosity overwhelmed her. She carefully treaded across the cream carpet until his master bath sprawled before her.

She’d walked into a spa. Floor-to-ceiling stone tiles were accented by sea-green glass. A glass partition revealed an inviting steam shower with a dozen spray heads to mimic a waterfall. A soaking tub looked out over the backyard. Two floating sinks were mounted into the wall for an ultimate modern effect. To complete the scene, in the corner a fountain gurgled, surrounded by fragrant orchids.

“Good God,” she murmured.

Logan beamed with pride. “Not bad, huh?”

She shook her head, beyond awe. “How much do you charge by the day in this resort?”

“For you?” He rubbed his chin. “I think we can work out a special arrangement.” He winked.

“It could take years to explore every square foot of this place.”

“I hope so.”

Uncomfortable with the weight of his stare, she backed toward the door. “Thanks for the tour.”

“Feel free to explore.
Anytime.” He strolled out of his bedroom into the hallway. “Nothing’s off limits.”

While the gesture was magnanimous, she sensed a dual meaning his words. Particularly with regard to his bedroom. The notion sent desire spiraling through her abdomen.

He passed her in the hall.

Then suddenly he turned. She bumped into him. He cupped her face and sealed his over to hers. His thumbs brushed her cheeks, his mouth urgent, consuming. Then he slowly lifted his head.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. He laced his fingers through hers and led her to the kitchen.

Tiny ripples of pleasure spread through her. She wanted to tug him back and encourage him to deliver on that promising kiss.

That was until the tantalizing scents of dinner received a standing ovation from her stomach. They could’ve heard the hunger pangs in the next county.

“Still hungry?” he asked with a grin.

Bashful, she shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Good. I want you to enjoy this.”

He could’ve set a plate of liverwurst in front of her and she would’ve inhaled it. Thankfully, he had better options.

The prosciutto-wrapped stuffed chicken breasts and horseradish-encrusted filets that he pulled from the double ovens left her salivating. He added herbed new potatoes and sautéed zucchini to her plate and it looked like heaven.

“Go ahead.” He nodded toward the dining room.

She sat down and stared at her plate like it was the Last Supper. She managed to wait. He entered a minute later with a full glass of wine and a bottle of Pellegrino. He frowned. “I told you to go ahead.”

“I’m the guest. The least I can do is wait for you to sit down, after you’ve created this amazing meal.”

“You’re not a guest.” He set down his wine and poured the sparkling mineral water into her glass. “You need to get used to this.”

“To personal-chef dinners and being waited on hand and foot? Not likely.”

He stared at her beneath the shelf of his brow. “Like I said, get used to it.”

She refused to touch her food until he sat down across from her with his own steaming plate. He exhaled. “Allison, you’re eating for two. I don’t expect you to hold out on my account. I’ve heard about the ravenousness that takes hold when you least expect. You need to obey your body when it tells you you’re hungry.”

“I am so ready to obey.” She grabbed her fork and steak knife and attacked her dinner. As the juices soaked into her tongue, she rolled her eyes and groaned with her mouth full. “God, that’s good.”

He sent her a sly smile. “If you like dinner, wait until the next course.”

“Don’t bother me,” she joked, appreciating the complex tastes he’d created. “I’m busy consuming ecstasy.”

He stared at her through half-lowered lids. “And I just got started.”

While she unapologetically polished off her plate, he took unhurried bites. He watched her intently during dinner, seeming to take as much satisfaction from her response to his food as she did eating it.

Finally, she pushed her plate away with a sigh. “Spectacular.”

“Glad to hear.”

“I can’t remember the last time I appreciated food this much.”

“Finished?”

She nodded. Her head lolled like she’d drunk a bottle of wine. “You are my favorite person in the world right now.”

He set his silverware down and pinned her with a stare. She blinked, swallowed. She knew that look. She should’ve heaped on a pile of excuses for why he should get those thoughts right out of his head. But she didn’t. Couldn’t.
Her senses were delirious. Now that he’d conquered scent and taste, she wanted touch. She craved
the desire she saw in his eyes.

When she said nothing, he stood. Coming behind her, he set his hands on the sides of her chair. Without effort, he picked it up and angled it away from the table.

Kneeling before her, he drew her face into his hands. “Now, I want dessert.”

For a hot second, he stared at her lips like a man who’d been wandering a
wasteland and finally came to the well he sought. Then he kissed her thoroughly.

Different from his quick tender kiss in the hallway, this lip-lock was intense, passionate. He feasted on her. Then he fed her kisses, letting her pursue his mouth as he pulled away, kissed her, and pulled away again.

She curved her hand around his neck and pulled her to him. She wanted this, needed this. So much unspent sexual need and emotion. So long denied. No words.

When he snaked his arm around her back and dragged her to the edge of the chair, she came willingly. As he pressed her tight to him, she spread her legs. Escaping her high-heels, she curled her foot around his thigh.

He groaned and shot up to standing, taking her with him. Legs wrapped around his waist, she didn’t let him break their kiss as he moved toward his bedroom.

They didn’t make it that far.

Intoxicated with sensation, she didn’t care about tomorrow. This moment was her world. And she wanted Logan.

They landed against the wall.

He cushioned the impact, hand cradling her head. But nothing, no wall or emotional barrier, could contain their attraction.

Just like the first time.

His tongue dove deep, curling around hers, drawing out every latent desire until she was a heap of nerves and need in his arms. “Take me.”

His
kiss
went
into overdrive. He tilted her head to give him supreme access and his tongue made deep relentless sweeps.

The ravaging kisses ignited restlessness. He set her nerve-endings ablaze. Anticipation pounded through her veins.

He broke their kiss to say, “You have no idea how much I want you.”

“Believe me, I do,” she whispered against his lips.

His mouth locked on hers again. His arms tightened. She gave in to the strength of his embrace. Her inner thighs gripped his waist.

With shockingly swift moves, he stripped her naked. Her feet never touched the floor. She responded by unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it off his muscular shoulders. He finished the job, tearing off his shirt and shucking his bottom layers. His need pulsed against her opening.

His hot breath coasted down her neck to her cleavage. He cupped her breast and sucked her nipple into his mouth, flicking and teasing the peak. She moaned.

“Did I mention,” he
murmured, “I still fantasize about your amazing breasts?”

“I’m okay with that. Just don’t stop.”

A wicked glint stole into his eyes. “I fantasize about you saying that, too.”

She laughed then gasped as his teeth tugged the tight bud. He moved to her other breast, kneading and flicking the tip. Her head dropped back.

After a few minutes of sweet torture, he brought their faces level. His eyes gaze bored into hers. “I’m going to take you.”

“Here?”

“Here.
Now.”

A powerful thrust sent him into her heat. Her inner muscles clung to him. He pulled out halfway and thrust again.

She sucked in a breath. Sensation tightened and centered in her core. The promise of ecstasy shivered through her.

Arms encircling her body, he pumped into her. She rode every inch of his hot length. Her moans encouraged his thrusts, deeper, harder. A sheen of sweat broke across his skin turning slippery under her touch. He maintained his secure hold as he buried his face against her neck and drove into her again and again. His mouth sucked. His body plunged.

They made love with a force untamed.

As her core tightened, all sensation centered where he moved,
hard and slick inside her. White-hot tingles spread through her. She arched, moaned with pleasure. She tightened around him. Then she unwound in ecstasy. Shivering, shaking in his arms, she gave over to the sparks of sensation
exploding through her.

When her core
spasmed around him, he shuddered.
Clutching her, he came hard,
spilling himself inside her.

A curse seethed through his clenched teeth. His cock throbbed, convulsions that drew out her orgasm beyond natural limits. He took her to a height
beyond their one night together.
How can
this be better than that
one perfect night?

Could sex get better each time, with the right person?

Wonderment left her dizzy at the thought.

He eased out of her, lowering her carefully until her feet met the hardwood floor. Her legs trembled. He swept her with a possessive, sexually-charged glance. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Delivering a sizzling kiss that promised more passion in store, he stroked her cheek and turned. She watched him amble toward his kitchen, offering a spectacular rear view.  He was muscular, masculine perfection. Not over-developed like Trevor’s compact bulk, but tall, athletic, divinely proportioned. She marveled as she had looking up at Michelangelo’s David in Florence for the first time.

Logan seemed unaffected by his nudity. As if it were ordinary to have mind-blowing sex against his great room wall and then strut around naked and still half-hard.

By contrast, her whole body blushed, infused with awkward self-consciousness. A wet trickle oozed down her inner thigh. Alarmed, she raced for the closest cover, an Aztec-design blanket draped over the back of his sofa. She whipped it around herself.

Then, seeing their clothes strewn across the floor, a lamp on a nearby table teetering, and the picture askew on his wall, she descended into panic.
An old, dark instinct for self-preservation seized her. She scooped their clothes off the ground, folded them clumsily, righted the lamp, and reached for the crooked picture frame.

“Allison. What are you doing?”

She froze. She’d tried to make things perfect before he returned. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

She reached for the frame again. “I’ll make it right.”

“Stop.”

Repentant, she obeyed his order and faced him. Like a child bracing for punishment.

Logan stood stock-still, a towel in one hand and a heaping bowl of ice cream the other. He stared at her. “What’s wrong?”

Shame scorched her bare skin. “I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“Who cares?”

Her lips parted. “You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be?” Approaching her, he grinned. “I happen to like seeing your clothes on my floor, and having you naked in my house.” Slinging the towel over his shoulder, he transferred the bowl to his other hand
and reached for her.

She tensed. His arm lowered to his side.

Concern flashed in his eyes. “I thought since I had my dessert, you’d like some, too.”

“How nice,” she murmured, unsure of his ulterior motive.
The first time they’d had sex she’d left his hotel room before dawn, the space immaculate as if she’d never been there. She gestured at the rumpled clothes, the cockeyed picture. “I will clean it up, I promise.”

“I don’t care. Why are we even talking about this?”

She stared at the floor.

He studied her for a long moment. “Look at me.”

She forced herself to meet his eyes. She wasn’t certain what she’d find there.

All that awaited her was compassion, and something else. She couldn’t identify the churning emotions in his stare. He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t appear angry with her. More like a stark
revelation taking hold.

“My God, Allison. What did he put you through?”

Dampness seeped along her lashes. It was the first time anyone asked her that. At last, recognition of what she’d endured in her marriage, even though he didn’t know the half of it. No one cared to hear about someone’s broken, damaged life. She learned that quick, the first time Trevor smashed a vase against the wall beside her head. Shocked and shaken, she’d gone to her neighbor on the military base the next day, a woman with weary eyes and three toddlers tugging at her apron, who’d told her to shut up and pretend it had never happened. Most people liked drifting through life on the surface of things, never getting more involved than the minimum social requirements.