Diva (Ironclad Bodyguards Book 2) (14 page)

“Oh my God, oh my God, fuck, fuck, please don’t stop.” The words spilled out in frantic need, and he was there for her, stroking her back, gripping her ass, riding her to an ecstasy more intense than any pharmaceutical high she’d ever experienced. When she finally climaxed, she lost all control. Everything clenched and shuddered, and she cried, “I can’t. I can’t.”

“You can. I’ve got you.”

And he did. His hands were huge and strong, powerful enough to hold her together as her body broke to pieces in fulfillment. He tensed above her, driving deep in a hot, hard cadence, and let out his own long groan of release.

Lola lay still, basking in every sensory detail. His scent, his breath, his heaviness, the sated sounds he made, the quiet murmurs, the feel of his lips moving over her skin. His hair was soft and warm beneath her fingers. His neck felt tense as he moved to kiss her lips. She didn’t want him to pull away.

But eventually, he had to pull away. He did it slowly, taking care with the condom so he could protect her in this way as he did every other way.

“Hold on,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he left her, Lola felt lost. A little worried. She couldn’t decipher his expression as he left the bed and went into the bathroom. She heard the water run and shut off, and then he returned just as he’d promised, gathering her in his arms.

She had to say something about what had just happened. She had to explain how she’d slept with a hundred men in some quest for validation, but had never known true connection until now. She could have written a thousand songs about the way he’d just made her feel, but when she met his eyes, she couldn’t say anything. A minute ticked by, and another.

Reality came crashing back, unwelcome memories, her yelling, her emotional blackmail, his angry words.
You’ll regret this.

She didn’t regret what they’d just done. She was afraid of it.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and she couldn’t tell anything from his tone. He might be happy. He might be furious. He might feel nothing at all.

She turned against his shoulder and let him pull her closer. “Yes, I’m fine. I feel…wow. Really wonderful.”

He made a soft sound, perhaps a laugh. “You finally got laid.”

She didn’t want to joke about it. This had felt like so much more than “getting laid.” It wasn’t about bedding her hot bodyguard. It was about what he’d done to her heart. It was about the way he’d surged inside her and connected with her more deeply than men she’d fucked dozens of times in the past.

“I think…maybe…” She squeezed her eyes shut. Good God, was she going to cry? “I need some time to process what just happened. I mean, it was… It was amazing.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It was amazing.”

“But I just… I think I need some time before I say any more about it.”

“I think we both need some time.”

Her fingers tightened on his arm as he shifted. “But I don’t want you to leave me,” she said. “Please, will you sleep next to me tonight?”

“Of course.”

She needed
time to process?
Ha. What was there to process? She never, ever chose to fall asleep next to her sex partners. She’d always sent them home and pushed them from her thoughts as quickly as possible. Now she couldn’t even gather her thoughts.

There was only one thought: she’d rather die than move away from the comfort of his arms.

*

Ransom sat by
the window and watched Lola sleep. His tie felt tight. His throat felt tighter. He’d finished packing an hour ago, while she slept like a baby. Incredible sex would do that to you.

She looked so innocent in sleep. She always had, but now it unsettled him, because he’d been inside her, everywhere, and she still looked so
innocent
.

But she wasn’t, and neither was he, and now he had to tender his resignation and walk away from this assignment because he was weak, and because she knew now that he wasn’t respectable or responsible under his tailored suits and ties. He’d crossed a line no bodyguard should ever cross.

Even if he hadn’t lost control last night, he would have had to leave. She knew about his first career now, and she’d use that knowledge against him if he stayed. Their professional relationship was over, and so this assignment was over, even if they’d shared something earth-shattering. The first fuck was rough and sloppy. The second fuck was languid, an exploration of licking, sucking, biting, and teasing that escalated to a sensual wrestling match.

Which led to the third fuck, a rampant raunchfest that carried them through to dawn. He’d ended up in his client’s ass, because she loved anal, and he loved anal, and because neither of them had managed to find a boundary they wouldn’t cross. He’d spanked her, he’d called her a horny little cunt, and even wrapped his fingers around her neck to hear her moan.

He couldn’t believe it now, in the light of day. He wasn’t one to do those kinds of things, or rather, the women he dated weren’t the type to allow them. The last time he’d fucked a woman like that, cameras had been rolling.

That was the real reason he had to go. He’d fought long and hard to reshape his sexual proclivities, to wean himself from the raw, objectifying fuckfests he performed on camera. He was not Rico Rockhard, that lurid character. He would not let porn and sex define him, and if he stayed here, that was what would happen.

Because they’d never stop having crazy porno sex.

Even now, his cock rose uncomfortably against his restrictive pants. She’d been everything he’d imagined in bed, and so much more. So uninhibited, so wild. They hadn’t needed fetish toys or floggers or any of that shit, because their bodies had turned electric together, two live wires crossed, setting off showers of blinding sparks. Looking back, it was amazing they hadn’t set the bed on fire.

His phone bleated, a message from his boss.
Got your request. Don’t have anyone immediately available to replace you. Can you wait two days?

Ransom rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t confessed what he’d done, out of respect for Lola’s privacy. If he’d told Liam those four words—I slept with her—there would have been someone here already to take his place, and he would be out of a job.
You deserve to be out of a job
, his conscience whispered.

By the time he looked up, Lola was stirring. Damn phone. He usually remembered to silence it while she was sleeping, but his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. She blinked at him, perhaps experiencing the same parade of memories he’d suffered as he watched her sleep.

She made a soft sound and pulled the covers over her eyes. A moment later, she peeked out at him. “Why are you so dressed?” she asked.

“It’s almost three in the afternoon.”

“Come back to bed.” She stretched, reaching out for him. He felt actual, physical pain that he couldn’t respond.

“I can’t.” He tried not to think about how lovely and naked she was, and how much he ached to fuck her now, in broad daylight, with the sun playing over her skin.

She fell back against the pillows. “I thought today was a free day. We don’t leave for Italy until tomorrow.”

“I can’t go to Italy with you. Lola…” His jaw clenched against the words. “I have to resign.”

Her seductive gaze melted into confusion. “Why, what happened?”

“You’ve already forgotten?”

“No, I…” She clutched the sheets closer to her chest. “Because of what we did? That means you have to resign?”

“Yes. I behaved unprofessionally. I’m here to do a job, and now I can’t do that job.”

“Because we fucked?”

He let out a slow sigh. “That’s part of it. It’s also that…you know about my past.”

“Who cares? So what? You were homeless or something, and you had to do porn to survive. It happens.”

“That’s not what happened.” He stood and went to the window, and looked out at the Paris skyline. “There was no desperation, no exploitation. I chose to do porn. I thought I was hot shit, fucking for money. I thought I was too good to go to college and get a nine to five job like everyone else in my family. I swanned around those sets like I was king of the world. And once you’re in…”

Once you were in the porn business, they did everything in their power to keep you in the business, to deaden you to the fucked up shit you were doing.

For the rest of his life, he’d have a lightning bolt tattooed on his dick.

“Okay. You chose to do porn,” said Lola. “Whatever. You were young and stupid. I don’t care.”

“I care.” He turned back to her. “I’ve already tendered my resignation. They’ll send someone new in a couple of days.”

“I don’t want someone new. I want you.” She knelt on the bed, her features tense with anger. “Why does the porn thing matter?”

“It mattered to you yesterday. You got pretty angry about it, remember?”

“Yeah, but—”

“It matters because you’ve lost respect for me, and because I slept with you when I shouldn’t have. End of story. I can’t continue to function as your bodyguard after…” God, after all the filthy things they’d done. If she hadn’t known about the porn, he could have stayed in control of their relationship. He could have put her to bed last night with a lecture on promiscuity instead of burying himself inside her three times.
Three
times.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said. “The sex is nothing. It’s harmless.”

“Meaningless,” he retorted bitterly.

“So? I don’t care.”

“I care,” he said for the second time. He glanced at his watch. “You need to get up. You have an interview downstairs in an hour.”

“What does it matter if we have sex or not? Why does any of this matter?”

“Exactly.” He crossed to her and took her arms, and wished he could shake some sense into her. “You don’t care because you’re an impulsive, short-sighted juvenile. I was too, twenty years ago. I made my first film when I was your age, and I didn’t fucking care.”

She subsided in his grasp, gazing into his eyes. He didn’t want to let her go. What was it about her that made him act this way?

“This shit matters,” he said through his teeth. “What we did last night matters. I was hired to give you some boundaries, to keep you on the straight and narrow. What leverage will I have now? Every time I tell you not to do something, you’re going to throw my past in my face. ‘
What right do you have to judge me? You used to make porn.’
”

She didn’t say anything, because they both knew he was right.

“I can’t do my job anymore,” he said, letting go of her and turning away. “So I’m leaving as soon as they can find a replacement. In the meantime, no more sex. Put some clothes on, for God’s sake.”

He’d expected her to whine and complain about his decision, but he hadn’t expected her to barrel into him from behind. He almost fell into the window, then turned around to see all five, naked feet of her quivering with rage.

“How dare you?” she said. “How dare you talk to me this way? How dare you dismiss me after everything that happened last night? You enjoyed it as much as I did. I remember you enjoying it quite a bit.”

“Yes, I enjoyed it. I never said I didn’t.”

“Then don’t tell me to put my clothes on.” She gave him another hard shove. “Hold me. Be nice to me. Don’t act like last night was another of Lola’s crazy, misbehaving stunts, because that would make you a massive asshole. Last night…” She burst into tears. “God, Ransom. Last night.”

Damn. She was right. He was being an asshole and she was such a sensitive soul. He took her in his arms, even though it slayed him to hold her. He clasped her against him so tightly that he could feel her shivering anger and grief. To be twenty years old again, and feel everything so strongly. When had that part of him died? By twenty-three? Twenty-four?

He thought, for Lola, it would never die. She was the free spirit who’d always feel things strongly, who’d shove her heart in people’s faces whether they wanted it or not. Maybe that’s why he’d been drawn to her even as she defied and annoyed him. Now she was sobbing against his shoulder, pushing at his suit jacket so he’d take it off.

“Please don’t go,” she begged, opening her hands against his chest. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I can’t work with you anymore.” He had to be the sane one. If he let himself feel as strongly as she felt, they’d melt down together, or combust like the fire they’d created last night. She was so close to him, so hot, so sad, so full of all the emotions he was afraid to show.

“Lola, please,” he said, stroking her hair. “This is crazy. You and me…it’s crazy. You know it is.”

“No.” She shoved away from him, renewed fury shining beneath her tears. “I won’t let you leave. I won’t let you kick me to the curb like some fucking piece of dog shit.” Her voice rose in savage conviction. “If you don’t stay with me, I’ll—I’ll ruin you, Ransom. I’ll call the police. I’ll tell them that you forced me to have sex with you last night. I’ll tell them you raped me.”

He pulled her back, and this time he did shake her. “No more threats, Lola. Don’t you fucking dare.”

“And when you go to jail I’ll get some other bodyguard who doesn’t care about me,” she continued, fighting his grip. “And he’ll let me start using drugs again, and I’ll use every drug I can get my hands on without testing any of them. I’ll sleep around with every gross guy I can find. I’ll fuck everyone, and it’ll be all your fault.”