Page 11 of A Bride for the Bodyguard

Mine.

There’s ownership in his words, a possessiveness that should scare me.

But instead, it entices me. Heat flares low in my belly as I think back to my makeout session with Jack on the plane earlier and the way it felt to have him between my legs. Would it be so terrible to belong to someone like him?

We spend the next hour in the kitchen sipping on wine and picking apart the day’s events. But as time ticks on, I start to feel tired. My eyes flicker to the wall clock - almost midnight. Then I feel myself start to yawn.

Jack’s voice is warm as he stands from his chair. “Come on, princess,” he teases gently, “Let me take you to your room before you turn into a pumpkin.”

He leads me toward a hallway that promises even more unseen luxury. The bedroom he takes me to is a quiet blend of plush fabrics and subdued hues. A king-sized bed takes center stage, promising sleep, backed by the same breathtaking view as the living room.

“Don’t worry, I’m following the rules,” Jack assures me as he strides towards the colossal closet door. “I’m staying in the guest room down the hall. I’m just going to change really quick.”

As Jack peels off his jacket, I can’t help but follow the motion with my eyes, tracing the lines of muscles that shift beneath his shirt as a strip of his tan skin comes into view.

Suddenly, I’m embarrassingly aware of how little experience I have with men like him—or any man, for that matter.

What would it be like to be held down by those strong arms? To feel the weight of his body pressing into mine?

I feel another zing of lust between my legs, stronger this time, followed by what feels like a flood of wetness drenching my panties. It takes everything in me not to clench my thighs together for more friction.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Jack asks, his voice teasing.

Can he tell what I’m imagining?

“Nothing,” I manage to say, though my voice shakes with the nervous energy coursing through me. “I’m just thinking about how I’m going to get out of this dress. The zipper was a little tight when I put it on.”

He crooks a finger at me. “Come here. I’ll take a look.”

And I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

I pad over to him and Jack positions himself behind me, his fingers brushing against my skin as they find the small tab of the zipper. He gives it a gentle tug and the fabric parts, exposing my bare back to the cool air of the room. Jack’s breath fans over the back of my neck, making goosebumps rise along my arms.

It’s too much and yet not enough. I’m getting so turned on that my inner thighs are slick with desire, a heat pooling between them that begs for attention.

And then the unimaginable happens.

A gush- an actual gush - of my arousal seeps through my panties and lands on Jack’s foot.

This can’t be happening.

Slowly, I whirl around, my cheeks burning. “Jack, I’m so sorry. I’ll go get a?—“

But he holds up his hand. “Let me make you come.”

My eyes pop wide. “I-I thought we said no sex.”

A devilish grin spreads across his face. “That was your rule, Marlie. Not mine.”

“But—”

Jack brushes a strand of hair from my face. “It’s your wedding night. You deserve to feel special.” His voice drops to a husky whisper. “Let me taste you, baby. I promise I’ll make it good.”

“Okay,” I breathe out when we part, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s all the consent Jack needs.

He takes my hand, guiding me until the backs of my knees hit the bed. With a gentle push, I fall onto the plush comforter, and he follows, settling between my thighs as he spreads them wide.

“Wait,” I gasp, reaching down to still him. My fingers tremble as they thread through his hair. “I’ve never done this before.”

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