For His Protection (4 page)

Ty slipped his jacket on and did the button at the front
then tugged down on the coattails. “Nope, it’s you or no deal.”

Brooke shook her head, every vile curse word she’d ever
heard swimming through her mind. “Are you even in danger? Or is this all a game
to you?”

He lowered his hands. “Honestly my security does need
reassessment and there have been threats.” He stepped forward. “If you’re
asking if I fear for my safety, then truthfully the answer is no. I can take
care of myself. But I can’t deny that personal security is a reasonable
precaution.”

She raised a hand to her temple and let out a gush of air. “Whatever
you think is going to happen if I work for you—it’s not. It can’t. Whatever you
want from me, you need to know I don’t have it.” Her voice dropped several
decibels. “I’m not worth it; I can promise you that.”

A scowl crossed his features. “Bullshit—”

She held up her hand. “No it’s not. I’m not being insecure
or self-deprecating, I’m just telling you the truth. You don’t want me. I’m no
good.”

His chin curled up. “What if I tell you no expectations? You
just work for me. I’ll respect your boundaries. I won’t touch you without
permission. I won’t cross your lines. Will you agree then?”

“If you have no expectations, why is it so important to
you?”

Ty closed the distance between them in long, cautious
movements. He looked down at her and the emotion on his face made her throat
tight and thick.

“You saved my life. How’s that for a reason? How about you
saved my life and I want to do something for you?”

She swallowed and studied the button on his shirt. “As I
told your parents, I don’t expect anything.”

“My parents? What are you talking about?”

Brooke blinked and glanced up. “After the accident your parents
came to my apartment, offered to pay my college tuition, buy me a house,
whatever I wanted…”

“You’ve met my parents? They paid your tuition—and bought
you a house?”

Brooke shook her head. That’s what he took from this? “No,
they came to my apartment but I didn’t let them in. We spoke through the door.
I refused everything. I didn’t want anything then, and I don’t now.”

“You refused everything?”

“Yes, my landlord said they came by again a few weeks later.
But I’d already moved by then.”

Ty reached for her arm but then drew his hand back at the
last moment. “Brooke, why did you move away? Was it because of me, my parents,
the letter?”

“God no, is that what you think? I scare so easily?” She
shook her head.

“Then why?”

She stiffened, the black memories rising in her like a
lashing. “It was a bad time for me. I had a lot going on. I needed a change so
I worked my grandparents’ farm for a couple years until I figured myself out.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He looked genuinely concerned and her
it’s none of your
damn business
response died on her tongue.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Will you stay and take the job?”

“Will you keep your word about respecting boundaries?”

“I swear it. Won’t touch you unless you ask me to.” He
whispered the first part like a vow but something about the way he finished his
statement bordered on a challenge.

Brooke studied him. He’d keep his word. The anger she’d felt
before had sunk too low to access again. It would be difficult spending time
with him. Whether he’d like to know it or not, despite the devilish quality
drowning him, there was something deep about Ty. The way he spoke, the way he
looked at her as if he was
really
looking, really paying attention. The
kind of quality that made a person want to “pour their heart out” and all that
mushy crap. He made her want to do a lot of things that weren’t exactly
tasteful to her.

She finally nodded. “You owe me a debriefing.”

Brooke leafed through the pile of emails and then paused as
she came upon one in particular. Her lips twisted in a half smirk. “Well aren’t
you Seattle’s most beloved bachelor…?”

Ty glanced up from removing a cufflink. Music from the party
below thumped through the floor and the lavish, imported rugs into the master
suite. He said nothing.

“Oh I think I’ve found my favorite—” She cleared her throat
and wiggled into the wingback armchair. “Your arrogance is only exceeded by the
size of your head.”

“I’m glad this is fun for you.”

She laughed at the back of her throat and shuffled the
papers. “Okay, I get that you need security, still not convinced you need a
live-in bodyguard but until we get some kind of system in place it’s probably
not a terrible idea.”

Ty placed the cufflink on the marble fireplace mantel. He removed
the other and shot her an expression of pure devilish triumph. “So you’re
committing to stay?”

She sighed. “I guess. Just remember this isn’t a scene from
Seducing the Nanny Volume Two. Sneak into my room during the night and
something attached
will
get removed. Got it?”

Ty’s chest rumbled with a soft laugh and he set down the
other cufflink. “Baby, I don’t seduce women while they’re sleeping. I find it
much more rewarding to do it while they’re awake…”

Heat pooled in her stomach. “Seducing? I thought you swore
to behave?”

“I said I wouldn’t touch you unless—you ask for it.” His
fingers moved to the button on his chest.

The heat in her belly spat shards into her limbs. “Ty…”

He popped the buttons on his shirt in a few flicks and her
warning evaporated. A chest as crisply cut as it had felt through fabric
emerged. She eyed his magnificence. Every taut line. Firm pecs, the line
between his abs, the jutting peaks of his—
holy-hip-flexors!

She turned her face away, a burn rising over her skin. “What
the hell are you doing?”

His footsteps padded beside her. “Relax, I’m just taking a
shower. We’ll stay here at my family estate tonight. We can go back to my
apartment in the morning.”

Brooke’s gaze snapped back to him. A jolt hit her at the
sight of that bare chest, close enough to catch the subtle scent of his
deodorant. “No.” She blinked then fixed her focus well above his collarbone. “I
mean, all my stuff has been dropped off at your apartment already. I don’t even
have anything to sleep in.”

One dark eyebrow quirked and his smile swept over his face
to steal her breath.

“Well, we can’t have you sleeping nude.”

He draped the shirt in his hand over her shoulder. Her back
flew off the chair at the touch. The shirt pooled in her lap. His smile
smoothed into something deeper before he turned toward the adjoining room.

Damn her eyeballs for having a mind of their own because
they sucked in the sight of his retreating back despite the voice in her head
screaming
don’t-fucking-look-at-the-pretty
.

The door shut with a click but she continued to stare at the
spot he’d gone through. So this was his plan—death by rippling muscle exposure.
A breath squeezed between her lips. A day ago she would’ve sworn she was immune,
but one look at Ty and she knew it wouldn’t take much to have her folding like
a cheap beach chair.

This was a bad idea. She should get up and leave now.
Clearly Ty intended to twist his promise.

The shirt burned in her lap. Still warm from him. Still
smelling of him. The tang of cologne sent images of a kiss—a kiss that should
have been impossible—shooting over her senses. She’d kissed him. Kissed him and
loved every moment of it. Up until the point he stopped behaving.

She stared at the bathroom door, unable to escape the
knowledge that he was naked in there. Naked and most likely getting wet. A
shiver caressed her skin. Lingering tension corded through her body. Her
nipples grew tight, her pussy wet and throbbing. What the hell was happening to
her? She didn’t know her own body anymore. She slid a hand under the shirt in her
lap and placed her fingers over her mound through her dress.

For the first time in years the place she held ached with
budding pleasure. Her chest tightened. She wasn’t as broken as she’d thought.
One day she might even be normal. She remembered Ty’s face when she’d told him
to behave. The secret thrill at the power she’d claimed. He
almost
had
behaved. Maybe he could next time? He wanted her but exactly what would he be
willing to do to get her? She shook herself and pulled her hand from between
her legs. What was she thinking? The things teasing her mind were far from “normal”.

But then what the hell is normal?

Ty leaned his arms against the wet room wall and braced
himself under the stream of water.
She
was in the next room. After all
these years she was right there in the next room. So what the hell was he doing
in the shower by himself? Every one of his muscles strained against the urge to
barge back in there and finish what they’d started.

Patience, Ty.

There was something holding her back—whatever it turned out
to be he’d make it his mission to find and destroy it. Because she was his
whether she liked it or not. The day of his accident had been destiny making
itself known. That day told them what was meant to be—what would be as soon as
she gave in.

The water rained hot on his back until his skin went numb.
She wanted him as much as she’d sworn she had five years before—the truth was
there in that kiss. His cock hardened as if it had been injected with a shot of
liquid metal. He wrapped his palm around the shaft. That goddamn kiss. The way
she’d told him to behave then kissed him as if
her
life depended on it
this time. That was the sweet, bossy angel he remembered.

He’d always been the kind of man who liked to take charge.
Yet there was something un-fucking-believably sexy about a woman with the nerve
to stare a man like him in the eye and tell him to be a good boy, to
behave
.
Oh yeah, that memory would be keeping him up—literally—for many nights to come.
He squeezed his cock and groaned into his arm.

He would keep his word, respect her boundaries, that is
until he found a way around them.

The wait might kill him.

The door creaked. He froze, releasing his cock. Cool air
swept over the back of his knees. He turned. She stood in the doorway. The
sight of her nearly tore his heart from his chest and his cock from his body.
She was wearing his shirt.

My fucking shirt.

Legs bare, top buttons undone, open enough to expose the
valley between her breasts.

“Don’t move.” She held out her palm, radiating strength even
while looking like the prettiest thing in the world in the oversized shirt. “I
have something to say and if you listen and be good, I’ll stay.” She paused,
her hand on the doorknob. “But—you don’t listen—don’t behave—that’s the end of
it and we don’t play.
Ever
.”

His chest thumped in rhythm with his pulsing cock. He didn’t
know what her game was but he’d do whatever it took for a chance to be in it.
Hell, he’d lay himself at her pretty little feet if she just gave him the
chance. Her fingers hovered on the door handle. No way would he give her reason
to leave. Whatever she wanted, he’d give it.

But if she was bluffing, trying to scare him off with her
dominating act, she was fresh out of luck.

There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to have her.

The steam from the shower clogged up her lungs, thick with
the scent of his body wash. She’d barged in full of conviction. Full of
determination to take this first step. She’d even gotten out her first
rehearsed lines. But her fingers shook on the door handle and the urge to run
trembled in her kneecaps. Worse, the bathroom turned out to be a wet room—no
shower screen between her and the very naked, very big man.

The vision of his bare chest, slick with moisture, battered
her creeping fear to the side with something more powerful. Just not enough to
convince her she could actually do this.

He said nothing, just stared at her as if an apparition had
manifested in his bathroom. Could he play by her rules? Otherwise there’d be no
doing
anything.
She might be brave enough to take this small leap but
there was a definite limit to her nerve. Her fingers tightened on the handle.
That limit would be reached with him taking a single step he wasn’t instructed
to take.

“Okay.”

“What?” She blinked. Had she heard him say that?
Okay
,
with a straight face, without a shred of challenge?

“I’m listening.”

Brooke forced herself to stand, not sag, against the door.
She lifted her chin. “Stay still. Only move when I tell you to. The only way
this works is if I’m in control. You don’t talk and we never speak of this
afterward.” She uncurled her fingers from the door handle. “Can you do that?
Can you do exactly what you’re told and not a thing more?”

His nostrils flared.

“Because if you can’t, I’m out that door, no take two.”

He stiffened and guilt wound its way down her spine. This
was selfish. An ultimatum. My-way or no-way. Maybe too weird, too kinky for
him. But this was the best she could do.

“This is what I have, Ty; this is all I can give. I’m sorry
if it’s not enough. If you’re not into it, we don’t do it. Simple.”

He held her gaze. “One thing I have plenty of, Brooke, is
discipline. Give me your worst.”

Her heart rose a little higher in her ribcage. Shit, he’d
actually agreed. A part of her had been convinced he would turn her down and
she would be able to walk out with the comfort of knowing she had at least
tried.

That she wasn’t defeated.

She closed her eyes. No she wasn’t defeated.
Not defeated
starting now.
She would have her moment with this sexy-as-hell man and nothing
could stop her. She opened her eyes.

“Take one, just one small step closer, out of the water.”

He moved, taking his step in one graceful movement, and
stood glistening only a few short feet away her. His bare skin, the rivulets of
water trickling over him, pulled her gaze over his flesh.

She did the one thing she hadn’t dared since stepping into
the bathroom—let her gaze fall below his chest. The world dipped.

Sweet Jesus!

A thin trail of hair led down his chest, over his belly button
and thickened to a curling thatch between his legs, drawing her eye to its
center—and the monster protruding from there. Her breathing accelerated, making
her head light. She wouldn’t look away. Made herself see
it
. This thing
that had terrified her so much. This thing that now fascinated her so much.
Hard, beautiful and ready. She knew what
it
wanted to do to her…

The water didn’t reach her side of the room but she could
almost feel the spray. Hot and cold. Hot and cold. That’s how her skin felt. An
intoxicating mix of need and terror. But all she could do was stare at his
cock—shamelessly. Somehow she tore her gaze away and let it travel the length
of him. Her attention caught just below his knee. A matrix of scars wrapped
around his shin. Some deep, thick and purple, and thinner white ones that
looked surgical. He hadn’t shown her those when he’d lifted his pant leg.

His hands curled at his sides and she jerked her gaze to his
face. His features were tight, his color high. Her gaze, her looking at him
intimately, her seeing his scars, all affected him. It wasn’t just desire
coloring his skin, tightening his brow—there was that hint of vulnerability
she’d glimpsed before.
She
affected him. This strong, powerful man put
himself in her hands—at her disposal.

The air in the room lightened and the hesitation clutching
her loosened its grip. This wasn’t just about her anymore. This wasn’t just
about conquering her fear.

This was about
him
.

She was in charge. She was responsible for
him
. For
his
feelings. For not hurting
him
.

For his
pleasure.

With that knowledge everything changed.

“Get back under the water and wash yourself.”

He slid back into the shower stream then pumped a squirt of
soap into his palm and scrubbed his chest with his hands.

“No.”

His hands stilled.

“Do it slowly—” She swallowed over her drying tongue. “Do it
as if it’s my hands on you.”

He didn’t move for several long heartbeats. He wouldn’t do
this. No way. Ty wasn’t a let-me-be-your-show-pony kind of man. He was a
let’s-fuck-against-the-wall kind of man. The way he’d danced with her—the way
he’d led—proved that much.

He seized her gaze. Pinned her against the door with a look.
She leaned into the wood, unable to tear herself from the tension flaring
between them. His hands moved across his chest in slow, sweeping arcs. Suds
flowed over tanned skin, taut muscle, in gentle actions that seemed to echo
between her legs, in her chest. Every sweep of his hands across his soapy skin
left no doubt in her mind that he was indeed doing it as if it were her hands
on him. The way his chin lifted, the way he leaned into his own touch, the way
he stared at her with each caress. He touched for both of them.

His movements flowed down, over ridged abs, over a stomach
so perfect it made hers clench. The temperature in the room rose, suddenly hot
enough to make the cotton covering her stick to her skin. Her hands followed
his, stroking over her own tight belly through the shirt—his shirt.

He paused and filled his palm with more liquid then resumed his
stroking, sliding his palms between his hips in a vee. Up and down. He slid his
hands from hips to pelvis. Down to that patch of hair, down to the sides of the
magnificent arching cock springing from the middle then back up again. Never
touching it. Just moving around it. Making her look there, making her desperate
for more. Making her hips rise away from the door.