Page 109 of South Beach Bodyguards

I love women. I love everything about them, from the way they laugh and flirt to the way they break underneath me when I’m stroking inside their warm heat. I love the way they move, hips swaying and rolling when they walk, whether it’s fuck-me heels, flip-flops, or badass motocross boots. I love the way they smell, like peaches and strawberries, suntan oil, and tangy sweet pussy.

Size, shape, ethnicity don’t matter to me. What draws my eye is their eye. When we lock on to each other in that first initial gaze, what do I see? Are they a good time? A girl who laughs, who has confidence, who knows what she wants? What they almost always want is me. Because I’m a charming bastard with a big cock and an even bigger ability to flirt. I was born to love women.

And I love them every chance I get.

There is only one woman I’ve ever wanted that I couldn’t have. And as I stood backstage in my suit, wearing a wireless mic, and carrying a gun, I watched her standing ten feet away from me in a tiny sequined bodysuit.

Miranda Bartello.

As I stared, drinking in the sight of her after all these years, I asked my co-worker at Miami Security, Ryan Harris, “You ever feel like there was one woman you missed out on? Like the hit you couldn’t have quit if you tried, but you never got a chance?”

“Nope.”

I glanced over at him. Ryan was an ugly guy, big, broad, probably close to six foot five, with a nose that had seen too many fists. He was a quiet guy, solid, loyal. He was also annoying because I almost believed him. “You’re a liar.”

He just shrugged. “I always dated the same kind of women, and they weren’t exactly hard to get.”

“So you only hit on a sure thing?”

“Pretty much.”

Decent strategy for a guy who had zero charm. But Ryan had a girlfriend now, a smart girl who appreciated that he was a guy who would have your back no matter what. I liked that she got that about Ryan. The big lug deserved to be happy.

Miranda turned and glanced our way. Even from twenty feet, I could feel the pull of her. She was even more beautiful now than I remembered. She had polish to her and a maturity to her face. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, her eyes appeared larger in her face. Whether it was age or makeup, I didn’t know, but to me, she had always been a freaking goddess. Now wearing a gold sparkly bodysuit and heels that made her sexy legs go on for miles, her blond hair tumbling down her back, I felt a tightness in my gut and a swelling in my cock.

It was a shock to see her.

Three years was a long time.

But I had known that I might see her here. Hell, I’d been hoping I would. Craving a glimpse of her. Now I was feeling the “Be careful what you wish for” because all I could think was that I wanted Miranda more than ever.

It was also obvious one of the stagehands was hitting on her. “Cover me,” I told Ryan. Fuck this guy. It was my job to keep Miranda, who was acting as pop star Lola Brandy’s body double, safe. We had been hired to watch over primarily Lola, who was currently on stage, but also her team, which included dancers, the body double, and Lola’s mother.

I relished the excuse to approach Miranda, make myself known to her.

The woman I had wanted with a lustful, blooming intensity since the age of fifteen.

The woman I couldn’t have.

My brother’s girlfriend.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, stepping into the guy’s personal space. He automatically took a step back and it made me smile. Little douchebag.

“Yeah, why?” he asked, defensive. He was thin, wiry, smarmy. He looked guilty, darting his gaze around, avoiding my scrutiny.

When I turned to Miranda, I gave her a wink. “Ms. Bartello, you okay?”

She gave a gasp of surprise. “Alejandro! Oh my gosh, I didn’t know you were here!” A smile lit up her features and I felt it all over again.

Desire. Lust. And something deeper.

Everything I’d felt all those years ago when I had fallen head over ass for Miranda the day I’d met her.

When my brother brought her home.

“I ask for all the jobs where I get to see sexy women.”

She reached out and smacked my chest. “Why does that not surprise me? You’re always such a ladies’ man.” Then she opened her arms. “Come here, give me a hug.”

---