Page 52 of The Bodyguard

“One kiss. I’ll never ask again,” she purrs.

I groan.

“Savannah, if I kiss you, I’m fucking you. End of story.”

“Okay,” she purrs again and tilts her head.

I shake my head and press my eyes closed, searching for the willpower I used to believe I had a whole lot of.

Maybe it runs out when you get older.

Jesus, I’m only thirty-three.

Or maybe she’s a witch and I’m done for.

“I need to protect you. Fucking you will just distract me.” I attempt to reason with her.

Reasoning with a seductress. Good one.

There are reasons we have these rules, and while I’ve now broken them and will one day confess to Josh, I know they’re necessary.

I clear my head and remember why they are important. I won’t let my cock get in the way of keeping this beautiful woman safe.

The chemistry between us is off the charts. I should’ve known she wasn’t the kind of woman you sleep with and the itch is scratched. The moment I sunk inside her, I knew she would be my cocaine.

Dream pussy.

But the more time I spend with her, it’s becoming clear to me; Savannah Sinclair is not the kind of girl you fuck. She’s the one you fall in love with forever.

The world has.

I don’t doubt there are men in her stardom world who will soon swoop in and steal her heart.

I’m not stupid.

She’s a movie star.

A former Delta operator, now bodyguard, is not exactly the type of man Savannah Sinclair is expected to be associated with romantically.

And I’m not looking for a wife.

I’m wealthy, for reasons that we don’t need to go into, but not in the same league as Savannah or the leading men in the movie industry.

This is her world.

This is what she’s chosen for herself.

I’m not getting involved with a woman I can’t have, can’t be seen with in public, and would have to stand back and watch with other men.

Acting or not.

I’ve had a taste of that today with Nick the Dick.

Her knee brushes my cock.

“Oops,” she says, sucking her finger slowly into her mouth.

“Goddamn it, Savannah.”

---