Jennifer Armentrout - Tempting the Bodyguard

His back bowed as he groaned. She took him, sliding her tongue along the head as she shifted on the bed, balancing herself on her knees. He gathered her hair with his free hand and tilted her head so she could take him deeper, and she did.

Alana nearly swallowed his length and that was no easy feat.

She moved her head up and down, swirling her tongue as she sucked long and hard. Every muscle in his body tightened. He tried to hold still, but when her teeth grazed his sensitive head, he couldn’t hold back.

His hips thrust forward as he watched her cheeks sink in as she tugged on his cock. Her lashes swept up and their gazes collided for an instant. Something in her stare broke him wide open. Release powered down his spine. He tried not to pull back, but she followed him and if he hadn’t stopped, she would’ve fallen right off the bed. The fucking sight of her obliterated his senses. The way her body curved toward his, how she was so willing with her hands tied behind her back.

It was too much.

He came, his hips jerking wildly, and she kept on him, humming soft sounds of pleasure. He emptied into her hot mouth, shouting hoarsely as he spasmed endlessly. The orgasm…Goddamn…it felt like it would never end. His hand tightened against the back of her head, holding her until the last achingly perfect pulse.

Slowly, he eased away from her, his legs strangely weak as he dragged in a deep breath. He dropped his gaze to hers, his chest rising and falling raggedly. “Are you okay?”

Alana nodded as she bit down on her lip. “Are you?”

He coughed out a laugh. “Fucking perfect.”

Pink stained her cheeks as she averted her gaze. She sat back on her legs, letting out a little yawn. She was exhausted and he should let her be. Both of them had sought and found their pleasure, but he wasn’t ready.

After experiencing her mouth on him and the taste of her, there was no way this was going to be the last time. Quickly untying her wrists, he all but toppled onto his back, pulling her naked body to his, and draped a possessive arm over her waist, fitting her close. She was stiff against him, her back too straight and her arms awkwardly stuck between their damp bodies. So cuddling wasn’t her thing?

He wasn’t a big fan of it, either, but strangely, he wanted her beside him, and she was going to have to deal with it.

When he had her where he wanted, he gathered her wrists in his hands and began to massage the skin.

Slowly, as the seconds turned into minutes, Alana relaxed against him. Her breath evened out, and her body melted into his.

There was no way in hell Chandler was letting her go anytime soon.

Chandler ended up falling asleep Saturday night in her room, sprawled gloriously naked across her bed and with his arm possessively thrown over her waist. Admittedly, she had never been more comfortable in her life pressed up against him, with no barrier separating their flesh, but she couldn’t allow herself to sleep while he snored softly.

Lovers slept together after sex, not two people who were getting off.

In her past, albeit brief, relationships, she’d had trouble sleeping in the same bed. Even with Steven, who had been the longest relationship she’d been in, she’d never been able to relax enough to comfortably sleep. And that had to mean something, right?

But last night… Oh God, after about an hour, her lids had grown too heavy to keep open and she had relaxed into him. The realization had jerked her awake and in a near panic, she had slipped free from his grasp, gathered up her clothes, and slept on the couch downstairs.

She’d spent the vast majority of Sunday morning and after avoiding Chandler, who seemed okay with it. The few times they’d crossed paths in the house hadn’t been pleasant for either of them. He seemed mad at her, but for what, she wasn’t sure.

Part of her didn’t regret what had transpired between them Saturday night. Good Lord, no. What he’d done to her would fuel her fantasies for a long time to come, but how was she ever to look at him again without feeling his hot mouth on her? How was she ever to forget?

Maybe she was overthinking things.

She was folding and refolding her newly acquired stash of clothing for the hundredth time when Chandler appeared in the doorway. The moment her gaze connected with his, heat zinged across her cheeks and she felt silly for blushing so easily.

“Hungry?” he asked, expression impassive.

Her stomach rumbled in response. All she had eaten earlier was a bagel with cream cheese. “What do you have in mind?”

“Thought we could go out and grab something to eat.”

For some reason, her heart flopped over in her chest. “Go out and eat?”

Obviously mistaking her high-pitched response for fear, he softened his features. “I know this place. My brothers and I go there all the time. It’ll be safe.”

It was better if he thought she was afraid instead of knowing the truth. Which was what? The sudden increase in her heart rate was due to excitement? But that was silly. This wasn’t a date.

Calmly, she placed the folded shirt on the dresser. “I don’t have anything nice to wear.”

“What you’re wearing is fine,” he replied, pushing out of the doorway. “It’s not that kind of place. You game?”

Could she really say no? Smoothing her suddenly damp hands along her jeans, she forced a tight smile. “Yes.”

He studied her a moment and then stepped aside, motioning her forward. As she walked past him, she felt his gaze drop. “I really like you in jeans.”

She arched a brow as her lips twitched. “Do I even dare ask why?”

Heated cobalt eyes drifted slowly back to hers. A half grin appeared. “It has to do with how well those pockets cup your ass.”

A laugh burst out of Alana, surprising her and apparently Chandler by the sudden sharpening of his gaze. She didn’t know what it was. The teasing was beyond inappropriate, but something about him eased the frostiness of her exterior.

“You should do that more often,” he said, following her down the hall.

“What?”

Chandler stepped around so he went down the stairs first. “Laugh.”

She didn’t respond to that. Waiting in the entryway while he grabbed the keys, she then followed him out to his truck. Once again, she noted the detailed and near-perfect landscaping surrounding the driveway and porch. One day she would like to buy a home with a yard.

“You’re going to have to let me know who you hired to do your yard,” she said once she was inside his truck. “It’s beautiful.”

He snorted. “Hired? I didn’t hire anyone. I did it myself.”

Her eyes widened. “You did?” She glanced out the window, eyeing the trimmed bushes, the roses that were months away from blooming, the colorful early spring daisies that were straining toward the fading sun. “You’re good with your hands.”

“I am.” His lips curled sensually.

Muscles low in her stomach tightened. He was damn good with his hands and his mouth and his tongue… She shifted in her seat, closing her eyes, but it was already too late. Heat unfurled in her veins. Daring a quick peek at Chandler, she knew he was fully aware of where her body had taken the conversation.

As he backed out of the driveway, he cast her an appreciative look that started at her lips and ended at her chest. His overt sexuality was far from oppressing; it turned her on and made her want more.

It’s just two people getting off, she reminded herself, and she would be okay with that, but strangely, it made her feel empty.

She needed a distraction. “So you like to garden?”

He shrugged as his gaze flicked to the rearview mirror. “I like being outside and I guess I like making things. You know? Taking a barren patch of land and creating something out of it. And I’m good with plants somehow.” A quick grin flashed across his face. “My brothers say I have a green thumb.”

“I envy that,” she admitted. “I can kill a cactus in less than two hours.”

He laughed deeply, and she found her lips responding to the sound. “It’s pretty hard to kill a cactus that quickly.”

“Not if you’re me.” She glanced out the window, watching the houses slowly bleed away, fading into businesses. “But I do want something like that one day.”

“You plan on buying a house soon?”

“I would once I got settled.”

He looked at her, and then his gaze went to the rearview mirror once more. “Then you’re going to stay here?”

“I’d like to.” Her thoughts turned wistful, something that wasn’t common. “I’d like to have a…a home.”

Chandler was quiet for a moment. “Didn’t have much of that growing up, did you?”

She almost forgot what she’d admitted the first night at his house. Shifting in the seat, she dutifully studied her nails. A manicure would be nice. Not having a conversation like this would be great, but her mouth opened and she started blabbing.

“Mom was never home and if she was, she wasn’t really there. She kind of ghosted through the house,” she said, sighing. “We didn’t stay in one apartment too long. She couldn’t keep a job to save her life.” Or mine. “Eventually I was sent to my grandmother’s.”

“And her house wasn’t much of a home?”

Her gaze flicked to the red light they were stopped at. “Her house was… It was cold. I mean, she loved me and I think she was happy to have me around, but I also think she was done raising kids, you know? I was unexpected.”

His jaw locked. “Unwanted?”

She sucked in a breath at the blunt question, but it was true. Her gram loved her, but she probably would’ve loved not having to raise her more.