Page 13 of Bossy Bodyguard

“Emma, if it’s some—”

“It’s nothing. Leave it,” I said, keeping my voice steady, but it was difficult when he genuinely seemed concerned about me. I found the clothes he had ordered and donned the comfortable long-sleeved dress over a black bra and underwear. They were definitely expensive, and he had gotten my size perfect.

Why couldn’t he be mean and leave me after the sex? No. He just had to cuddle me, shower me, give me more orgasms, rub lotion on me, ask about that damn bruise and buy me the similar style of black dress that was more comfortable than the one I was wearing before.

“Emma—”

I was saved by the ring of a phone. He let out a sigh and picked it up, turning his back on me, and I definitely didn’t watch the muscles of his back clenching as he moved, or even his mysterious tattoos and definitely not the low hanging pants that revealed two back dimples and a tight ass.

I can’t believe I was staring him with an open mouth.

What’s worse was that I wanted to ask for his number and ask him to meet me again. Just for sex. Nothing much.

But I knew that couldn’t be possible. He was forty, and I was nineteen. The age gap didn’t matter to me, but we met in the sex club that my brother owns, and that was definitely not a good start for a relationship—

What the hell am I thinking? It was just sex. It was just sex. It was just sex.

“You got dressed…,” he trailed off, his eyes falling to my hips before flickering to my face. I crossed my arms when he continued, “Do you want me to drop you home?”

“You’re leaving?” I sounded too eager. Damn it. “I… I don’t want to go home. Yet.” I added when he frowned at me.

Even though Cillian might have treated me with utmost respect like a gentleman, I wasn’t going to tell him the reason why I was in a sex club in the first place.

He wore his shirt, and I had to look away because he looked too handsome even while covering his beautiful tattoos and piercings. If I had been more confident—no, if he hadn’t brought up that bruise, I would have demanded him to fuck me on the floor before he left.

It was very, very stupid and petty, but I hated the person who had called him. I didn’t want him to leave just yet.

“Are you sure, Emma?” His voice sounded much closer, and I lifted my eyes from the floor to his face when he walked towards me. “I can order you a cab—”

“I’m fine.” My voice was clipped and my smile was fake.

He tilted his head and touched my chin, rubbing the pad of his thumb on my jaw. It was just a small caress, but it sent warm flutters to my belly. “You don’t have to lie to me, Doll. You can stay here as long as you want. I can book it for you for a week if you want me to.”

My mouth parted, and I remembered something. Shaking my head, I said, “But that would be over fifty grand for a week…”

“I don’t mind, as long as you feel safe here.” He leaned down, his hot breath whispering in my ear, “Besides, it will be a treat to have a pretty Doll using this suite however she wants.”

“Even if I bring other men in here?” I asked, raising my brow when his burning gaze met mine.

He smirked, raking his eyes over my body, and shrugged. “As long as you remember to call me first when you want someone to fill you up, I don’t mind.” His hand trailed from my waist to back, lowering to my ass and giving it a light squeeze, his dark eyes twinkling in delight. “I haven’t fucked you here yet, anyway. And something tells me that you’d love to have all your pretty holes used, hm?”

My eyes widened and before I could agree or disagree or worse—kiss him. He dipped down and kissed the corner of my lips.

His stare was intense when he pulled away, taking a step back. “Call me.”

I stared at his back when he picked up his suit and walked out of the door, leaving me alone in the suite with my thoughts and soaked pussy.

“Ughhhh, fuck him!” I ran a hand through my hair, sighing at my reflection in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed pink and eyes were gleamed.

I jumped when there was a knock on the door of the suite and frowned. Did he come back? I definitely did not rush to open the door or anything. I was just curious about what brought him back—

“Oh, hello,” I said to the hotel staff and hid my disappointment.

“T-this is for you.” He pushed a bottle in front of me and I raised my brow at the name of the champagne.

“But I didn’t order any—”

“The man ordered it for you,” he said, his mask hiding most of his features. Masks were not mandatory for the hotel staff, but most of the people wore it anyway to remain anonymous. “He asked me to tell you that you should enjoy it.”

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