Page 132 of South Beach Bodyguards

“Wow. Okay. I didn’t expect you to say that. Are you scared? Should I skip the chicken and come back now?”

I hesitated. I was a little freaked out but ten minutes wouldn’t matter. “No, it’s fine, you can get the chicken. I told him you were my boyfriend.” Saying it out loud to Alejandro embarrassed me. It sounded… presumptuous. Like I wanted that now that we had had sex.

He cleared his throat. “Smart thinking.” His tone was neutral, not possessive the way it had been earlier.

I felt oddly deflated. He sounded like he had in Lola’s hotel. Friendly and familiar, but nothing more. Not like he had buried his cock in me ten minutes earlier and destroyed everything I thought I knew about him. About us.

It seemed like he was asking a silent question. What do you want from me?

Or maybe that was just me projecting. What did I want? I had no idea. But I did know I wanted him to make sure my neighbor didn’t hassle me. “So maybe you come back over in the next day or two and help me sort out who this cat actually belongs to?” I immediately realized that sounded like I was just angling to spend more time with Alejandro. It sounded lame.

I quickly added, “And give Conrad next door a friendly hint that you carry a gun?” Conrad didn’t need to know I was carrying. He might just see that as a sexy challenge.

Men were fucked up.

Men also thought women were weak and I knew my greatest weapon was catching any assailant off guard. No one expected me to be able to defend myself.

“I can do that. I would be really good at making sure this guy knows you have someone looking out for you.” His voice lowered. “I’m spending the night tonight. That was already my plan, you know.”

My body instantly responded to his tone and I was annoyed with myself for the tightness in my core, the instant ache I felt. “You really should wait for an invitation.”

He gave a low laugh. “My invitation was you coming for me twice.”

My nipples tightened instantly. “Aren’t you in a chicken joint? Can’t people hear you?”

“I don’t care. And I’m staying over tonight. I won’t be able to sleep if I think you’re in danger.”

“I don’t think I’m in danger, exactly, but I would like to send the right message right off the bat.” That I may look pretty but I was no sitting duck, and I had some muscle to back me up.

“Does that mean you’ll make out with me on the front step?”

That shouldn’t sound as appealing to me as it did. To want to declare publicly that we were something more than old friends. “That’s negotiable.”

“I don’t negotiate.” Alejandro sounded cocksure of himself. “Hold on.” He shifted the phone and I could hear him ordering food.

I hung up. It’s a personal pet peeve to be put on hold on the phone and he had pushed all my buttons, intentionally. While I still hadn’t been able to jump in the shower and wash him off of me yet.

He called right back. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Yes. You don’t negotiate? I don’t get put on hold.”

Alejandro gave a low whistle. “Damn. Then I guess I better get back to you immediately if not sooner. And give you whatever you want.”

That I would be willing to wait for. Except I had no idea what I wanted.

All I knew for certain was that I was eager for Alejandro to get back.

And put his tongue all over me again.

seven

I returned to the house with my food, having bitten half of Miranda’s biscuit en route, not really particularly concerned about the dude living next door. He was probably just hot for Miranda and wanted an excuse to talk to her. I could hardly blame the guy for that. I’d been hot for her for a decade.

Now I’d had her. It had been better than I could have ever pictured, and I had pictured it frequently. She was so sweet and compliant, but so damn sexy. She was the perfect woman and now that I’d had her I was feeling greedy. I wanted more.

But it wasn’t just the physical. Something had shifted between us, beyond the pleasure of sex. Sex can be fun, satisfying, relaxing, rough. This had been… intimate. Bonding. Like I had breathed her inside of me. Like I had imprinted on her.

That thought had me shaking my head as I went up the walk. What, was I a fucking poet all of a sudden?

---