Page 44 of Flirtatious

“And I’m known for being a diva,” she says sadly, covering her face again.

I know I shouldn’t try to comfort her because it breaks all the rules I have for myself on a job, but it’s almost like I can’t stop myself from putting my arm around her to gently let her know everything will be all right. She melts into my embrace, resting her head against my shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I hate that I have to say that, but you deserve to hear it, Liam. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you in front of your guys today. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s all me.”

“No problem. They’re used to people being rude. They’re guys. We’re rude all the time.”

Mia lifts her head and sniffles as she wipes her eyes. “You’re not. You’re never rude, except when people deserve it. People being me.”

Her dark eyes look all watery, like beautiful gems in a lake, and I shouldn’t even notice that because she shouldn’t be this close to me. But she is and I do notice, and something stirs inside me that definitely shouldn’t be stirring.

“You’re just being nice,” I mumble, sure I should be stopping what’s going to happen if one of us doesn’t move in the next few seconds.

She shakes her head, and then what should never happen between a bodyguard and a client happens. Her eyes slowly close, and even though I should back away and get the hell out of her room, I don’t. I watch her brush her lips against mine, instantly closing my eyes to revel in the softness of them as she kisses me. It’s sweet and sexy and absolutely shouldn’t be happening.

Yet I don’t stop and even kiss her back, loving how this feels while sirens and red flags go off in my head that I need to pull away right now. Or maybe a few seconds from now when it doesn’t feel so good to kiss this woman.

But I don’t pull away, and when she leans back, I feel the guilt rush through me. I’m her bodyguard. My job is to protect her, not make out with her. That’s what the problem with that Michael asshole was. He didn’t do his job because he got too close.

And now I’ve turned into him.

Mia slides her hand down over my chest, and my body reacts like it should because I care for her. I don’t know how it happened. Maybe it was all that talking about my family. Or maybe it was the hours of The Brady Bunch we watched together. Hell, I don’t know what it was, but all I know is I don’t want this to end with a kiss and her hand moving toward my pants.

She leans in and kisses me again, and this time I don’t stop myself. Burying my hand in her hair, I keep her mouth on mine as I slide my tongue in to tease the tip of hers. She moans softly, making my cock stiffen like it’s made of steel. When her hand brushes over the front of my shorts, every cell in my body wants her so fucking badly I’m not sure I’ll be able to think straight a few seconds from now.

Fuck. I need to leave this room before this mistake goes any further.

“Liam,” she says in a dreamy voice. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for days. Was it the same for you?”

I want to answer her question with the words I know will make her happy, but I can’t. This is wrong. Every rule I’ve lived by in my job says I have to stop this.

Pulling away, I force a smile and stand from the bed. “It’s late. I better go. Have a good night, Mia.”

By the time I reach my room, I have a sinking feeling I’ve messed up worse than I’ve ever done on a job before. How the hell am I going to be a professional around her when all I can think of is how incredible her lips felt on mine and how much I want her?

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Mia

I watchmy bedroom door close and my heart falls to the floor. Why did he bolt like that? Didn’t he want to kiss me? Why wouldn’t he? He’s a man. I’m a woman. It’s not like I was asking him to hand over some organ of his.

It was just a kiss. A good kiss, though. A really good kiss. I know he liked it. A woman can tell that kind of thing. The way he felt under his shorts tells me he was into it as much as I was.

For ten minutes, I stare at the door and wait for him to come back. Maybe he ran down to the kitchen to get us a drink. That would be very romantic and something I bet a guy like Liam would do. Or maybe he just needed to go change into something more comfortable. That’s what they always say in the movies. “Let me go change into something more comfortable.” That’s the cue for the other person to have the green light.

He wants to give me the green light, right?

With each passing moment that the door doesn’t open and I don’t hear a knock, I begin to worry he’s never coming back. But why wouldn’t he? I was getting all the signals, wasn’t I? He cared enough to be concerned about me and not just professionally. He told me those stories about his family. We had a good time hanging out.

At least I thought we did.

After twenty minutes, I know he’s not coming back. Fighting back tears, I throw on a pair of black shorts and my favorite pink flip flops, grab my wallet, and run downstairs. My mother keeps her keys to her SUV in her office, so I sneak in and grab them out of her desk.

I can’t stay in this house anymore tonight. I need to get away. I need to be somewhere I don’t feel stupid or unwanted.

The moment I slide in behind the wheel of the car, I feel free. Maybe I’ll drive to the beach. Or maybe I’ll drive to someplace like New Orleans. Or Montana. I can go wherever I want. Why shouldn’t I? I have money, wheels, and the desire to be away from everything in that house.

My freedom comes to a halting stop at the security gate. Sylvester, the older guard who works nights, smiles at me, so I flash him a toothy grin and say, “Hi, Sly! Just going out for some ice cream. Want me to bring you any back?”

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