Page 7 of Burning for the Bodyguard

“Thanks, Dani,” I murmur, grateful for my friend’s support.

“Your neighbor was right. You look like an actress from the Silver Screen. Mae West, eat your heart out.”

I ruffle my hair and pout. “Come up and see me some time,” I purr in my best sultry voice.

“There’s my girl! Sell it, sister.” Dani laughs and claps her hands. “You’re going to knock them dead at the after-show get-together.”

“Wait. What? There’s an after-show get-together?”

Dani gives a long-winded sigh. “Didn’t you read any of the info Shelby sent?”

“I thought I did. Although I’ve been so busy getting my ducks in a row for this trip, I may have missed a few finer points.” I admit sheepishly.

“Okay, well, don’t freak out. Enjoy meeting the band. Watch the show. Dance your ass off. Avoid the security guys. You’ll have a pass, but they can be annoying.” She waves a hand in the air.

My heart hammers in my chest. “I’m going to meet them?” I squeak. I clear my throat. “Right. Watch, dance, and avoid the security guys.”

“Perfect! You got it all.” Dani smiles. “Most of all, have fun. All eyes will be on you tonight.”

“I don’t want all eyes on me! That’s a lot of pressure. Maybe I should choose a different outfit.” I move to rummage through my bag.

“You do not need a different outfit. You look perfect. You deserve a little attention. You’re worth it.”

What would Dani say if she knew about the unwanted attention I’ve suffered from an unknown source for the last two years?

I push the troubling thought from my mind. Dani’s right. This is the trip of a lifetime, and I intend to enjoy every second.

Chapter 3

Xander

Denver, Colorado

I don’t know what possessed me to take this job. No, scrub that. I know exactly why I took this job—my boss told me to. Ryder Thorne, CEO of Thorne Operations, is an ex-Navy SEAL and set up his security company out of Colorado, but now lives in Vermont with his wife, Charity.

I was in a shitty spot when I went to Ryder for a job. I was in law enforcement for years, making it to detective, when a bullet in the shoulder put me on desk duties. Ryder and I go way back, and when it became clear there was no end in sight to my paper-pushing hell, I handed in my badge and asked him for a job. The rest, as they say, is history.

For the last eight years, I’ve been a bodyguard for politicians, movie stars, and diplomats. And now I’m running the security team responsible for the safety of Soul Obsession, the heartthrob boy band who reunited after ten years.

Yeah. Twelve months of screaming fans throwing their panties and themselves at the five band members who’ve somehow remained single.

After touring Europe, the guys have just finished their first US concert of many in my hometown of Denver, and it was a huge success. Each band member has an assigned bodyguard, all of whom report to me. Everything went smoothly tonight—well, if you exclude the naked eighty-year-old woman waiting on the tour bus to seduce Jax. Fuck knows how she got in there. Oh, and the asshole who found his way backstage and demanded to have his junk signed by Asher. Fucker was lucky to leave with said junk intact.

Soul Obsession: Mason, Jameson, River, Jax, and Asher are all at the informal after-show gathering, still pumped after their first gig after ten years. The guys are all in their thirties now, and it’s not the wild, debauched scenario I was expecting, which suits me fine. No groupie parties with them trashing hotel rooms, snorting coke, and orgies. Just some booze, a buffet table laden with food, and half a dozen meet-and-greet guests, one of which is the buxom redhead who caught my eye the second she stepped into the room with Shelby, the tour manager.

Six years is too damn long to go without a woman. Or is it seven? Maybe that’s why my cock is currently as hard as a steel pole as I watch the redheaded, green-eyed temptress with a soft body a man could lose himself in for days. Weeks.

I’m almost thirty-six. I haven’t had a public erection since I was a horny teen. I’ve spent years training weaknesses from my body, yet here I am at the mercy of my wayward cock. An instant, violent reaction to Chastity Harper licking vanilla icing from her fingers.

Yeah, I already know her name. I know everyone in this room because that’s my job. Chastity is on the guestlist for the next four nights while Soul Obsession is in Denver, a perk of knowing Shelby.

But, damn, the woman is a fucking vision. Despite ordering myself to keep my eyes on the function room in the hotel, my gaze is tugged back to her repeatedly by an invisible thread, lingering on her heart-shaped face.

She’s the kind of woman I’ve always been drawn to—not that I’ve indulged since my fiancée left me when I was shot. Karla was out the door faster than the bullet that hit me when the doctors told me I might not regain full use of my arm. Guess she didn’t want to marry a potential invalid.

But I proved them all wrong. Worked my fucking ass off to regain strength and flexibility in my damaged muscles and shattered bones, coming back stronger than before. Wasn’t enough to get me off desk duties as a cop, which is where Ryder came in. Thank fuck, he had faith in me. I’m not a desk man. I need the outlet of a physical job, particularly as I’ve denied myself other, more intimate outlets since Karla’s betrayal.

I thought she was the one. That I was the one for her. Turned out I was—one of many, as I later learned she cheated on me with three other men during our two-year engagement. So I vowed never to hand my heart to another woman.

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