Page 5 of Cajuns. Love. Curves.

“Ava,” he says her name. I can’t so much hear him because the music is too loud, but I can read his lips.Ava.

Fuck me sideways.

That's her. The woman I’ve been hired to find and bring home safely. Ava Reynolds. Sometimes I truly hate my job. What are the odds? I walk in here, I find the one woman I’d really like to take home with me tonight, and she’s the one who’s totally off limits.

I’ve sat here watching her dance for the last half an hour. And I've had about enough. Not of watching her deliciously curvy body wiggle and bounce to the beat of the music. No, I could watch that all night. But I have one hundred percent had enough of that young bucks hands all over her hips, those fucking curvy hips.

So, I get to my feet and I head out to the dance floor. Because it's time for Vince Tomlinson to learn that he's not man enough for a woman like Ava Reynolds. Is it my job to teach him? No, because technically, she's my target, my job. Still there’s no denying that I want her.

I’ll be keeping her safe.

From other men’s advances.

I was hired to protect her and get her safely from point A to point B. Considering the dance floor at Ace’s isn’t point B, I step out to retrieve her.

I clear my throat and glare at Vince. Because he’s relatively harmless and not the sharpest knife in the tactical kit, he smiles at me. I shake my head, and lower my eyes to where his hands rest on Ava’s plump hips.

“Hands. Off.” I say the words low and deadly as if I’m talking to a terrorist. Okay, I don’t tend to talk to terrorists, I pretty much just blow those fuckers up.

Vince holds his hands up in surrender and backs off the dance floor.

Meanwhile Ava is still swaying to the music. I grab her hips—oh fuck me—she feels perfectly squeezable. Instinctively my fingers flex into her plump skin and I turn her to face me.

The moment our eyes meet, she gasps.

“Wow, he’s really hot,” she whispers.

“He? Me?” I point to my chest.

She nods, her blue eyes, going wider.

“I think you’re really hot too.”

Her mouth opens in a silent “o.”

I chuckle. “Come on Dancing Queen, let’s get you out of here and sobered up”.

chapterfour

Ava

I wake up, but don't open my eyes because it feels like if I open my eyes I might actually die.

It also feels like some sort of furry creature might have crawled into my mouth and died at some point during the night, which seems bad and wrong. But definitely might explain the wretched taste I have on my tongue. I really hope it's not one of my sister's animals. She tends to have a random menagerie of them wandering around her house.

I slide one eye open, just barely peeking. I don't recognize anything around me. So I opened the other and then turn my head ever so gently to the right. And scream!

The man in the bed next to me bolts upright and thankfully is not completely naked. I can tell he’s wearing shorts or boxers. But his torso is bare. Except for the ink and all the muscles.

“What the hell are you screaming about?” he asks.

I blink and force myself to look at his face. Which frankly, doesn’t really help because he’s just as attractive there. If not more so. He’s got a natural tan thing going as if he works in the sun and just browns nicely. Whereas if I merely think of going outside without sunscreen, my cheeks turn bright pink. In any case, he’s got a few day’s worth of stubble growing on his cheeks and chin and it just draws more attention to his full bottom lip. His blueish-green eyes narrow at me and I vaguely remember he’s just asked me a question.

“I don't know who you are or where I am or how I got here and did you roofie me? Did we have sex? Did I agree? Did I like it?”

His lips quirk in a slow, slow smile that I swear I feel inside my soul. “Listen sugar, if we had had sex then you would know it. Youwouldhave approved and you definitely would have liked it.”

I exhale slowly and try not to dwell on the fact that I think I feel a little disappointed. “No sex.”

---