A Dangerously Sexy Christmas

He didn’t like it one damned bit.

“Want to test that theory?” he asked, moving his hand up to cup her breast, weighing it in his palm.

Since he’d already broken the rules tonight, how could it hurt to take full advantage of the situation? He’d be good tomorrow.

She shivered as he brushed a thumb over her nipple. “Is that your way of asking for round two?”

A throaty hum of pleasure filled the room as he pressed his lips to the spot between her neck and her shoulder, continuing to tease her nipple with his thumb. Redness marred her skin where his stubble had chafed against her. The sight filled him with a primal desire, and he hardened.

Her hand traced his cock from root to tip, squeezed him. Pleasure blinded him for a split second.

“As much as I would love to continue, there’s a slight problem,” he said, unable to stop his hips from pressing forward into her hand.

“What’s that?”

“We’re out of condoms.”

A cheeky smile passed over her lips. “Luckily you’re not the only one who came prepared.”

She reached down to the puddle of white fluff on the floor and fished around in the robe’s pocket. A flash of silver caught the light as she produced the foil packet and tore it open without hesitation.

Thank. God.

“You’re a regular Girl Scout,” he said, allowing his eyes to shut as she rolled the condom down onto him, slowly and deliberately.

She straddled him, easing herself down onto his cock and pulling his hands up to her hips.

“I might be prepared—” she placed her hands on his chest and lowered herself until her lips came to rest by his ear “—but a Girl Scout I am not.”

Turning his head to capture her mouth, he wrapped his arms around her and forced the last sliver of space to close between them. Skin to skin, they were fused from the mouth down. Her weight pressed him gently into the couch, her thighs locked against his hips. Holding him in place. Controlling their rhythm.

There was nothing sexier than a woman who knew what she wanted. And by the way she ground herself against him, Rose must have a clear picture of where she was going. But he could help things along.

Gripping her hips, he thrust up against her, brushing his pubic bone against the core of her sex. A shudder shot through her and she gasped into his mouth. Yes, he knew exactly what spot to hit.

She clenched around him, her body jerking away.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, holding her down against him.

“Max,” she moaned, her face pressed against the side of his neck. “It’s too much, it’s too soon. I—”

He slipped his hand between them and found her clit, swollen and needy. “There’s no such thing as too much.”

She started to protest but her words turned into a garbled mess as she rocked against him, seeking her release. With her facing him this time, he watched her beautiful features contort as she came hard against his hand. Her sex clenched around him and her eyes squeezed shut.

He drank her in with greedy eyes, feasting himself on her pleasure until he followed her over the edge.

Satisfaction rippled through him, weighing down his muscles.

Rose was not a woman to be underestimated. She liked to be in control, and he’d have to keep a close eye on her. For some reason, the thought of doing that felt a lot more enticing to him now than it had this morning.

Curled up against his chest, she seemed small all of a sudden. The bruise on her cheek had morphed to a deeper shade of purple.

He would protect Rose. She may not want a bodyguard, but he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.

He brushed the hair from her face as if out of habit.

She is your job, nothing more. You will protect her but you will not let her in. Got it?

It would be easier said than done.

4 (#ulink_068fe507-62d0-5bb1-8e8a-e67fce6858fa)

ROSE SQUINTED AS she woke to the bright morning light streaming through the blinds of her hotel room. Her body ached with delicious post-romp satisfaction, and her mind was filled with the memory of Max’s lips on her. And his hands... Oh, boy, did he know how to use his hands.

She vaguely remembered him carrying her into the bedroom at some deep, dark point of the night. But her hand darted out to touch the cold space on the other side of the bed, confirming that he hadn’t joined her. Pity.

Rolling onto her side, she snuggled farther down into the sheets. Morning wasn’t her friend. In fact, Rose was strictly against any kind of activity that required brain power before ten o’clock.

Footsteps sounded outside the room and she glared at the door, hoping Max would leave her alone for at least another hour.

A single knock broke through the silence. Who used a single knock? Super serious bodyguards who valued efficiency. That’s who. She stifled a smile.

“I’m sleeping,” she called out.

His sigh came through the door loud and clear. “You don’t sound like you’re sleeping.”

“Well, I am.” She pulled the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes. “And I need my rest.”

He chuckled. “I have coffee.”

Her eyes snapped open but she didn’t move. Staying in bed meant she could live a little longer in denial about the break-ins, but the lure of caffeine was strong.

“You’re going to have to face the world sooner or later,” he said, as if reading her mind. “You may as well do it with a hot drink in your hand.”

“Damn you and your logic.” She threw off the covers and walked to the door naked. She opened it just enough to stick out her arm and when she felt the mug pressed into her hand, she retreated into the bedroom.

“You’re welcome,” he said through the closed door.

After downing her coffee, Rose showered and changed into a set of clean clothes. She should have felt better. The operative word being should.

Butterflies danced in her stomach as she repacked her suitcase. Ever since she’d arrived in New York, something had been off. As much as she’d acted nonchalant in her meeting with Max yesterday, the truth was she hadn’t been herself since she’d come home.

The idea of home seemed intangible...and confusing.

Her father had hounded her from the moment she’d landed, emails from him piling up in her inbox until she’d caved and given him her phone number. The second she’d hit Send she’d known it was a mistake. Now he wanted to catch up, do coffee, pretend they hadn’t been estranged for the past decade and a bit.

But she couldn’t forget. She’d given up hope a long time ago that they would ever have a normal relationship and she certainly had not returned to New York for him. Though he didn’t seem to believe it.