Page 39 of Bossy Bodyguard

I walked back to the pool and checked if they were making any progress and tried one of the motion sensors, turning it off when it started blaring. I had seen someone in the backyard when I was in the room with Emma. It was such a bad fucking timing. I couldn’t think about the dark silhouette of someone standing in her yard, just below her bedroom, when she had dared me to eat her out.

I needed an excuse to get away from her, despite my raging hard on at seeing the wet spot in her pretty lace panties. Before I could find the person, who could possibly be the stalker, the van of the staff to install cameras and sensors had arrived.

My hand turned into a fist. The stalker had a nerve to try and sneak into her room in broad daylight. Especially when I was with her.

I didn’t tell her because if I did, she’d get scared again. But I needed to talk to her after school. Maybe I’d tell her then.

“Who are all these people?”

I looked at her uniform and curled hair.

“Is that your uniform?” I asked, trying to rein in the urge to haul her over my shoulder and take her back upstairs and make her change. If that’s what she was wearing to school, then God help me, but someone was going to sit in their class with a red fucking ass.

“Why?” she asked, twirling her hair and looking down at her open shirt that showed her ample cleavage and the skirt that barely covered her ass. “If you have a problem with it, you can talk it out with our Dean—or not, since she was arrested—hey! I was watching the pe—ouch.”

I had closed my hand around her tiny wrist and took her to the nearest room with a door and pinned her against the wall.

“If you don’t straighten your uniform in the next thirty seconds, I swear to God, you’ll call your brother begging him to fire me.”

Her brown eyes were practically twinkling at my suggestion. She smiled, jutting out her hips, and asked, “Or what?”

I pulled back, crossing my arms and glaring at her. “Wear your uniform properly.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you’re going to a school and not a fucking sex club.”

“What if I want to go to school like this? It’s not like it’s bothering you personally, Mister Cillian, is it?”

This fucking girl…

“You’ve ten seconds, Emma.”

“And?”

“I won’t ask you again. Straighten your clothes,” I said, my voice stern, but her smile was turning into a sly smirk with each passing second. “Now.”

“Make me.”

Oh wow.

“What did you just say?” I asked, just to be sure—if she wanted to change her answer.

“Did I stutter?” she said and leaned closer to add, “I said make me. Make. Me. Mister Cillian.”

I uncrossed my arms and smiled at her. “When you feel like crying, remember who started acting like a spoiled little brat, Doll.”

“Crying?”

I turned her around, keeping my hand on the back of her neck, and whispered in her ear, “Yes, Doll. Now don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

24

SPOILED BRAT

EMMA

I held my breath when his hand tightened on the back of my neck, goosebumps erupting all over my body—

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