Page 2 of Bossy Bodyguard

It unnerved me.

It unnerved me even more when I decided to play with him.

Maybe I was really drunk.

A sly smirk traced my lips, my eyes raking over his broad frame. Perfect. So fucking perfect. My mom’s tasteless funeral. My boyfriend cheating on me with a guy. And now having this hot specimen falling in my lap was just perfect. Because I could really do with some hot, hard and rough one-night stand. Especially in my brother’s sex club. I could just imagine the look of anger on his face. Ha!

Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I stepped closer, making sure that my bare thigh brushed his silk pants that were so perfectly tailored that I had to stop myself from shamelessly ogling his strong thighs.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to handle this mouth?” I asked, my voice dropping to a lower note so I could sound sultrier. My black almond-shaped nail trailed over his arm revealing ink running through his shirt and over his shoulder that was strong and firm. I could just imagine how it would feel to sink my fingers into them. My mouth went dry when he let me touch his neck, his skin soft and warm.

Even his Adam’s apple was hot.

A tremor of pleasure ran through my spine when he leaned closer, the tips of his fingers brushing the back of my thigh, making my head buzz with potent heat.

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there, Doll?” he said, taking a sip as ice clunked against each other in his glass.

“I’m Emma,” I tried to keep my voice even, but it turned into a small whisper.

He noticed. His lips curling at the corner as he said, “Cillian.”

Cillian. It suited him.

His Asian features seemed familiar, yet unique. High cheekbones, a strong nose which seemed a little crooked—maybe from a fall—no, he didn’t look like someone who’d just accidentally fall—and hooded brows. His lips seemed soft and lush with a deep yet already healed scar running through them on the left corner. They seemed oddly inviting, but what unnerved me were… those eyes.

I looked away, blood rushing to my cheeks when he noticed me staring. What the fuck am I doing? I wasn’t someone who got embarrassed staring at someone else. Others get embarrassed and scared when I found them staring at me.

Who is this guy?

No—he was too big to be ever called a guy. He was a man through and through.

“Then we should—”

“Are you alone?” His smooth voice purred through my ear and I swallowed down the urge to lean closer and smell his perfume.

Or sit on his lap.

“What?” My voice was high-pitched, and I had to move my hair over my shoulder to fan my neck. I was getting hot. I was feeling hot. “Alone? Yes. I recently broke up with my jerk—”

“Let me rephrase, Doll.” He moved closer, so close that I could blink at his chocolaty eyes without craning my neck, so close that I could smell his smoky cologne, so close that his warm breath caressed my lips. “Did you come here alone?”

Doll. I had been called a doll many a time, but mostly it was condescending. When he said it though, it was as if he was making love to that word. Doll. Trailing the l’s a little and making my panties damp with just one fucking word. Doll. I wanted to hear him call me that again and again and again.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “Yes. I came here alone.”

I knew what was coming next. He’d ask me for my hand if he’s a gentleman, but he didn’t look like he was a gentleman despite the expensive fabric of his suit and how polished his shoes were. He’d probably just take my hand or hurl me over his shoulder and lock us both in a room until we were satisfied.

He hummed, a low rumbling sound that felt too intimate and too raw. “Are you into primal kink, then?”

My eyes widened and my lips parted, his eyes flickering to them for a second. “Primal kink?”

“Prey? Predator?” He squinted his eyes as he looked over my body, my skin singing with warmth just by his gaze, and he hadn’t even touched me yet. “You seem like a prey.”

“I’m not!” I snapped, my hands clenching on my clutch as my heart began racing. Licking my lips, I averted my eyes from his face to his watch. It seemed oddly cheap compared to his entire expensive outfit. It didn’t match, but it was vintage. A classic.

I met his stare again and said, “I’m not. Why’d you ask?” Are you into it? I added mentally. If so, then I’m into it too.

His eyes slid over my shoulder and they sharpened like a blade. “Someone has been watching you, Emma.”

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