Page 83 of The Bodyguard Situation

“Is that a promise?” I ask with a laugh as I gather the cards and shuffle.

Brody grabs a notepad and a pen so we can keep score. When he stands, I can’t help but notice the package in his joggers. I force myself to glance away as my cheeks heat.

“You look guilty,” he says with a laugh.

“Just be glad you’re not a mind reader,” I tell him.

“Oh, but I’d love to know what you’re thinking right now.”

I smirk. “I’m sure you would.”

The next round plays quickly, but this time, Brody lays down his meld first, eyes twinkling victoriously as I sigh and discard my losing hand.

“Fair’s fair,” he says, a teasing challenge in his voice.

I hesitate only briefly before sliding the blanket from my shoulders and pulling off my sweatshirt, leaving just my tank top.

His eyes sweep over me, lingering with heated appreciation. “Oh, you’re wearing layers. Not fair.”

“Based on my calculations,” I say, “as long as I win the next two, you’ll be in your birthday suit.”

“Ah, did you count my socks?”

My brows furrow. “Cheater.”

He snorts, and it’s so damn adorable, him being so carefree, that I can barely handle it.

We continue the game, each round stripping away our barriers. With every discarded card and soft laugh, our glances linger longer, our breathing deepens, and the space between us shrinks.

I win the next hand, and Brody reaches for his sock, giving me a mini striptease, twirling it over his head before tossing it at me.

“Eww, stinky-boy socks!” I tell him, unable to hold back my laughter as I sit on the floor in my bra and panties.

His eyes slide up and down my body, and my heart pounds against my ribs. I love being under his gaze. Heat pools low in my belly, and I’m unable to tear my gaze away from his.

His dark blue eyes hold mine steadily, burning with raw intensity.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.

I lean forward, shooting my shot, brushing my lips against his. Electricity races through me. “I need you.”

“You have me,” he confesses.

Emotion tightens my throat, but I don’t look away. I can’t. The moment is too real, too perfect, as our gazes lock, the crackling fire fading into the background. We both feel it—the shift, the surrender, the unstoppable pull between us. His breathing matches mine—shallow, uneven, edged with the same aching need.

“Brody …” I whisper, my voice trembling with vulnerability and want. “Tell me to stop.”

His gaze drops briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes, filled with fierce tenderness. “No.”

I breathe, my heart nearly bursting. “Okay.”

And this time, when we come together, there’s no hesitation—only surrender.

Brody’s mouth claims mine, soft yet demanding, sending a surge of heat cascading through my veins. His lips are warm, tasting faintly of chocolate. This kiss is different—no pauses, no hesitation. Instead, it’s deep and purposeful as we take our claim.

His big hands find my waist, gripping lightly before sliding slowly up my stomach, tracing gentle circles against my skin. Every careful touch sends shivers through me, awakening a deep need that I’ve never experienced before. I melt into him, my arms twining around his neck, my fingers sliding through the softness of his hair as he guides me onto his lap.

Not once do we break our slow, intoxicating kiss.

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