Page 1 of Bossy Bodyguard

PART I

“The only eyes I want on me right now are yours.”

1

QUITE A DIRTY LITTLE MOUTH YOU HAVE

EMMA

Turns out, going alone at a sex-club was lonelier than I thought.

My eyes zeroed in on the bar. Many patrons clad in expensive suits and glittering dresses were either seated in the personal booth for more privacy or dancing on the stage. Heads turned towards me, and the awareness of being watched creeped over my skin with a slight shiver.

But I ignored it.

Because I was Emma Moore, and I had been under an eye of surveillance since the day my mother conceived me.

My fingers clammed into a fist and my breath wavered, but I focused on one thing only——the bar. I needed to stop it. Stop thinking for a while. Sex was unfortunately out of the question, but thankfully, humankind has created several other ways to give our minds a break. One of them was—

“A Negroni please,” I said to Joe, the bartender, who winked at me and started making one of my favorite drinks.

“No more seconds today, Em.” Joe slid the pink glass towards me, a scrumptious slice of orange peel garnish bobbing over it. “Or your brother will kill me.”

“Or he might skin you alive, sweetheart.” I batted my lashes at him, taking a long sip. The strong alcoholic drink with its sweet taste gave a small sting of burn to my throat as I downed it all in two more swigs.

Joe looked horrified.

“One more please,” I said just as sweetly, sliding the empty glass back at him.

He sighed, taking it and filling another one for me. Then he served a handsome couple in the corner. Both men were in such awe of one another, whispering in each other’s ears and smiling. Something bitter slid into my throat and I quickly looked away from them.

My hands clenched remembering this morning—the funeral of my mother.

Without thinking, I threw my head back and swallowed another gulp of the alcohol, wiping my lips with my hand—chuckling how horrified my mother would be if she saw me right now. I drank another glass and pouted at Joe when he showed me the rule that showed only two drinks were allowed.

Grumbling underneath my breath, I slid off the stool, wobbling in my high heels. I was in a rush, so I had worn my favorite Manolo Blahnik pink heels with a pretty gemstone each. I was so caught up thinking about the afternoon that I didn’t see where I was stepping. Seconds stretched by as my eyes slowly blinked at the lights and realized that the world wasn’t tripping. I was.

“Motherfuckingshitballs—”

“Quite a dirty little mouth you have.”

A hot, deep voice whispered, strong hand keeping me from tripping. My first thought hearing his voice was sex. And not the sweet, sensual kind with a lover’s clumsy kisses. It was deep, rough, hair-pulling, ass-spanking, knees-and-lips-bruising kind of sex.

Mmm, sexy.

My eyes drifted over to the burly man who was sipping his drink with the stealth of a predator. Panther. He looked like a panther in his black shirt and mysterious aura. I tilted my head, my hair falling over my bare shoulders as goosebumps skittered over my entire body, noticing the large palm wrapped around my arm.

“You should see what else this dirty little mouth can do.”

I blinked. The slow realization of what I had just drunkenly blurted echoing through my head.

Uh. Oh.

I did not just say that out loud.

“Oh, but you did,” the smoky voice said, my eyes drifting from the inked hand on my bare elbow to the arm that was hidden beneath the sleeves of a shirt and an expensive suit hanging from the stool. I was impressed at the size of his biceps, which were probably as big as my thigh, and over to his exposed neck and then his face. My god, he is one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen. “And if that polite but tempting comment was an invitation for me to get you in a room… then my answer is yes. Only if you are sober.”

His eyes were on my face when he said those dirty words in his sexy voice. My hands clenched into a fist at the look in his piercing dark eyes. He was too intense. His large frame that dwarfed the stool, his hands, his handsome, sharp face and his eyes. They seemed like they weren’t looking at my face… but at my soul.

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