In Bed with the Bodyguard (8 page)

“Perhaps. Thank you for letting me know. Good night.” There was a click on his end, but she sat with the receiver off the hook for a long second, gathering up her reserves one deep breath after another.

“Are you okay?” Lance asked from the sofa.

“Not really.”

“What happened? Who was on the phone?”

“One of my artists. Or should I say, former artist.”

“He pulled out of the show?”

She nodded. “I'm heading to bed now.” Her plans of flirting with and sleeping with Lance were currently off. It was hard to feel sexy with all the crappy vibes floating in the air around her. “Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?”

“It's all yours.”

A while later, showered and clad in her non-sexy comfort pajamas, she curled on her side inhaling the earthy scent rolling off Lance. She moved her head to find a dry spot in her pillow that hadn't been soaked by her silent tears. Lance suddenly rolled to face her, startling her and leaving no room to hide her anguish.

Through the shadowy room dimly lit by the moon, he saw her tears and held his arms open to her. “Ari, come here.”

She scooted into his arms without thinking of the consequences. His welcoming warmth enveloped and soothed her. They lay snuggled together for a while with his big hand rubbing large circles over her back. Her cotton tank top rucked up from the movements and soon he was rubbing her bare skin.

She wasn't sure when the hug changed from soothing to something more. One minute she was burrowed up against Lance's strong chest and the next his thigh had slipped between her legs while her arms wrapped around his shoulders, placing them chest to chest.

His hand under her shirt made bigger circles, inching closer and closer toward her rib cage. Her nipples hardened at his proximity, and she could feel his hardness against her hip.

“Lance?”

“Hmm?” His voice sounded gruff, sexy, and she shivered in response.

“Will you hold me a bit longer?”

He didn't answer, but instead pulled her tighter against him and moved his hand lower to cup her ass. Instinctively she shimmied her hips against his pelvis seeking his response.

“Ari, if you keep doing that, I'm going to do more than hold you.”

“Okay.” This was probably a terrible decision made from her vulnerability, but at this moment Lance was the most solid and tempting thing in her world.

“Are you sure?”

She pushed up to lie on top of him and looked directly into his face. “I'm sure. I need something good in my life right now. I decided this afternoon to sleep with you.”

“Before or after I kissed you?”

“After. I thought you didn't like me before.” She smiled and kissed his chin; in the comforting and alluring arms of Lance Brown, the fears and tensions of the day melted away. It felt as if she was opening up a new momentous chapter in her life, and at the same time, as if she and Lance had known each other forever. With all her other men, she only showed them her fun, flirty side. Within a day of knowing her, Lance was seeing her, warts, tears, and all. And he still seemed to like her.

“I don't like you, you little spoiled brat.” He softened his teasing words with a sharp pinch to a butt cheek.

“Ouch.” She laughed and rolled off onto her back, but he followed, pressing her into the mattress with his hips.

“You're brave,” he said.

“Me, brave? How do you figure?” She arched up, seeking more contact, but he resisted.

“Your father is one of the most hated men in America, the FBI is following you, and some crazy person wants you dead. But you, you're ignoring it all and throwing a major art show.” Finally, he lowered his face to nip her chin, then her earlobe.

She turned to give him better access. “Why do you see that as bravery? Maybe it's me being terrified and ignoring it like an ostrich buries its head in the sand.”

“Is it?”

She thought about it for a second. “I honestly don't know. I do what feels right in the moment.” Previously, all her
right
feelings had to do with her physical state, yet with Lance, everything felt right, even unadulterated honesty. She'd seen how loving and caring he'd been for his nana today. She wanted some of that care for herself. The
love
word flitted into her mind and she threw it out. Too soon.
Waaaaay
too soon. Not that she'd recognize romantic love if it bit her in the ass.

He lowered his lips to nibble on her collarbone and his hands were doing something marvelous to the sides of her breasts. “What about this moment? Does this feel right?”

Oh, God. It did. It really did. She couldn't find the right words to urge him on, and she used her body instead, seeking more intimate contact. “Shirt: off,” she managed.

Lance sat back on his knees to yank off his t-shirt. Ari stared with appreciation at his wide, strong shoulders that tapered into a chiseled stomach. A line of light brown hairs wound their way from his chest lower into his boxers. She traced it with her finger, smiling when the stomach muscles clenched under her touch.

“You're going to be wild in bed, aren't you?” He smiled down at her.

She tore her gaze from his boxers to grin back at him. “You better believe it.”

“Oh, I do. The first time I saw you on TV, I thought, ‘Poor bastard who gets to wrangle her in bed.'”

She sat up and did her best to live up to his vision of a wild-child sexpot as she shimmied out of her skimpy tank top. Her efforts were rewarded by the gleam in Lance's eyes and the distinct bulge in his boxers. “
Lucky
bastard, more like.” Now they were entering more familiar territory in which she'd wow him in bed, not cry all over his chest.

“Damn straight,” he said before gently tackling her back to the bed and taking one nipple in his mouth. She should've known Lance would be excellent in bed and would take her pleasure as seriously as he took everything else in his life. Some men reverted back to the nursery in their treatment of a woman's breasts. Not Lance. He skillfully nibbled and caressed, heightening her arousal.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, loving the feel of his hardness stroking through her pajama bottoms. She had no panties on, but the two layers of cotton that separated them were entirely too much. Ari wanted bare skin, now. She slipped her hands into the waistband of his boxers to cup his ass, then yanked the boxers down to his knees.

Though she'd felt what lay beneath his clothes, she wanted to get a nice long look. “Hop up,” she said between kisses.

“Hmm?” He moved to her other nipple then up to her lips, ignoring her request. “I'm busy.”

She pushed at his shoulder. “Lance. Get up.”

He froze and balanced on his elbows over her. “Why? Are you all right?”

His concern that he'd hurt her warmed her heart. “Everything's great. I want to get a good look at you.” She raised an eyebrow, hoping he was up to the challenge.

With a devastating grin, Lance sat back, then swung his legs off the bed to stand up proudly. Ari followed him to the edge to sit with her legs dangling off the bed.

“Nice,” she said, offering him a weak compliment that nowhere near described the perfection that was his body. His narrow hips framed his erect cock, which stood at attention begging to be touched. His thigh muscles stood out in relief. Only the scar on his leg marred his masculine beauty. For a moment, she worried not only for his physical well-being but his emotional also. How terrifying to have been shot. Did he still think about it?

“Oh, Lance. I'm sorry, I totally forgot.”

“What?” He looked almost panicked, as if she'd forgotten a dentist appointment or something and was about to rush out.

She hurried to reassure him. “Your leg. Did it hurt when you put your weight on it?”

He shook his head. “No, everything in that bed felt great.”

She eyed the angry red scar again. “Well, to be sure, perhaps you should lie on your back. I wouldn't want my bodyguard unable to protect me.” She smiled, feeling like the devil with her naughty thoughts of Lance spread out on her bed as a delectable feast.

He leaned down to kiss her before complying. Flat on his back, he looked as good as he did standing up. Later, she'd make him kneel, then sit, for comparison's sake, in the name of artistic research, of course.

Ari pulled off her gray cotton drawstring bottoms, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. Nude, she straddled his thighs, taking care not to put pressure on his injured leg.

“So what's the plan?” he asked.

She eyed him, not sure where to touch first. Part of her wanted to be selfish and slide a finger between her own damp lips, but she refrained. Even though Lance had been joking when he'd called her a spoiled brat, part of her knew it was the truth. Taking her own pleasure and ignoring Lance's seemed like something a spoiled brat would do. She decided to make this all about him, her serious, sexy, tempting bodyguard.

“Have some patience. What's with you and the plans? I'm more spur-of-the-moment in bed. Think you can keep up?” she asked.

His abs flexed, causing his erect penis to shift, which took her out of teasing mode and straight into action.

“Can you?” he challenged back.

In response, she leaned down to swallow him whole, but because his size didn't allow her to take him all, she fisted the base of his cock and slid her tongue around the tip. Around and around she swirled her tongue, tasting the salty pre-come that dripped onto her lips. He grew impossibly hard under her ministrations and his hips subtly thrust into her mouth.

“Ari, stop.” His voice sounded as if he'd run a mile in a sandy desert, but he didn't put up much of a fight, and really, what guy did when a girl had his dick in her mouth?

“I want to make you come, too,” he muttered, and then in a louder voice, “Jesus, right there.”

She kept going. She wanted to see Mr. In-Control lose it, and he seemed to be on the precipice. It was killing her to be this giving in bed. No previous lover had warranted such attention. Oh, sure, she'd given her fair share of blow jobs, but never had she ignored her own need clawing at her. At least a lover would have a finger or two deep inside while she went down on him.

But for Lance she wanted it to be about him, and she ignored the throbbing pulse at her core. She couldn't rationalize why at this moment sucking him to completion was as necessary as breathing. She squeezed his shaft tighter and slid her hand up and down, using her saliva to ease the path. He was close, she could feel it, but he was holding back.

“Let it go,” she said around the tip of his cock, and used her other hand to massage the silky skin between his balls and back.

With a shout, his body tightened as hot come shot into her mouth. He groaned and lay boneless for a few minutes, then rose onto his elbows. “Why, Ari?”

“I wanted to see you lose control.” She smiled. It had been worth it to see him finally let go at the end. Almost nothing remained of the calm, in-control Secret Service agent. His hair stuck out in a haphazard mess on the pillow, sweat gleamed on his skin, and semen leaked a trail onto his thigh from his softening penis. He looked more like her love slave than her bodyguard.

“Well, you won. I lost control, but now I can't make love to you for a while,” he said.

She shivered when he said “
make love
.” She knew it was an expression, but wouldn't it be glorious to have a man like Lance make love to her and mean it with his heart? But it couldn't happen. He was a federal agent, and she was a free agent and the daughter of a notorious missing criminal.

To hide her sudden sadness, she cupped her breasts and smiled wickedly down at him. “I still expect my pleasure.”

“What do you have in mind?” His tongue flicked across his lips, making it clear what he wanted, and she did, too.

“I think your tongue can do a lot more than talk,” she said, still toying with her nipples, wishing he would take over.

“I'd love to, but you were right about my leg. I don't see how I can possibly kneel before you without hurting it more.” The glint in his eye told her he was teasing, but before she could tease back, he'd lifted her by her hips to straddle his face. Her hands shot out to grab the headboard before she did something totally lame like smack her face on the wall.

Lance's tongue swept through her labia and circled her clit. Her leg muscles quivered and she clung to the headboard gasping with delight. Oh, he was seriously talented as she'd known from his kisses, but this was much better. He spent long minutes laving her and thrusting his tongue into her.

It was glorious and she felt like a worshipped goddess wielding power over another, but Lance being Lance, he took control when he grasped her hips and held her in place. She helplessly moved against him, close to orgasm. It was amazing. She was on top, and therefore should have had the power, but he held the control. Her body was a puppet in his strong hands and he pulled her strings until she was pleading and blind to anything but the pleasure he forced on her.

“Please,” she begged. “I'm close.”

The bastard stopped and pushed her down to his waist, where his erection was making an amazing comeback. Lance sat up and Ari promptly wrapped her legs around him. They sat entwined, chest to chest, lips to lips. She mourned the loss of his hot mouth and wriggled her bottom against his hardness, hoping to relieve the pressure.

“I want to be in you,” he said against her mouth. “Do you have condoms?”

Did she? Hell to the yes. She'd never been this aroused, and while she didn't want to count the notches on her bedpost, she had enough experience to know what was happening in bed between her and Lance was pretty damn special.

She nodded and leaned over to grab one out of the nightstand drawer. She slammed the drawer shut before Lance could get an eyeful of the entire sexual arsenal she had hidden inside: vibrators, flavored condoms, sensual oils, you name it. She was a girl who took her pleasure seriously and liked playing games with her lovers, but sex with Lance was different. Nothing was needed but the two of them naked.