Page 57 of Vicious Sabotage

Her insides warmed. A flush heated her cheeks.

Emory saw it and smiled, nodding. “Now you see it too, don’t you?”

She quickly filled the tray with all six drinks. “Here you go!”

Emory took the tray and walked off into the crowd, still smiling at Livia’s obvious discomposure.

Hell, now she felt like she was shaking under Carver’s stare. His feelings for her must be genuine—no man could keep up such an act for more than a few hours at a time. She’d seen enough of that behavior.

Carver was different. He was strong and funny, kind and—

Looking at her ass.

He was on his phone with that small, upward quirk on his lips.

To test it, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, causing her ass to sway.

The quirk turned into a smile.

She wiggled again, side to side.

The smile turned into a full-blown grin.

Before she could round the bar and stalk over to him to demand to know what exactly he was doing, she got bombarded with orders for the bachelorette party going on in the back of the bar.

For the rest of the night, she alternated between hot and cold thinking about what would happen after Badlands closed.

She would walk right up to Carver and give him a piece of her mind.

Then he would take what he wanted from her.

And she wouldn’t resist.

He stood near the door, arms folded and his shoulders set, legs braced in his bodyguard stance. But his face was animated as he spoke to a guy who’d just walked in.

“Hunter!” She did one of her legendary leaps over the bar and ran up to the guys.

Hands on her hips, she stepped between them. “What’s going on with Marks? We’ve been dying for news all day!”

Hunter’s face wasn’t lined with worry anymore, and before he ever spoke, that clenching fear in her gut unraveled.

“Marks is stable. There is a neck injury, but it looks like it’s just swelling and bruising causing partial paralysis for now. They expect it to improve in a few days as the swelling goes down.”

“Thank god!” She swiped her fingers through her hair, always tangled by this time of night.

She felt fingertips trail down her spine, and then Carver curled his hand around her waist. The heat waving off his muscled body flared through her T-shirt.

When he slid his hand from her waist to her hip and tugged her against his front, need kindled low in her core. God, she could barely focus on the conversation between Hunter and Carver—she ached for him to turn her into his arms next.

To pull her tight against him and kiss her until her knees went weak.

She’d sworn she wouldn’t fall for him when she invited him into her bed. But somehow, he had insinuated himself there more and more until he was actually sleeping with her in the wreath of his arms. Even though she hadn’t been consciously awake, she knew the peace of the man guarding her dreams.

He molded his hard front against her spine so she felt his thick erection lying against her back.

He wanted her just as much, and that meant she still had some sort of control in this relationship.

As soon as they closed this bar, she would let her bodyguard know who was boss.

---