Booty Call (Forbidden Bodyguards #2)

“Another reason this is against the rules,” I say drily. “I’m a dirty old man.”


“I gotta say, banging my sister’s bodyguard is part of the appeal. So if you keep underlining the forbidden aspect of why we can’t, that’s just going to convince me that we should.”

“I’m not convincing you of anything. I’m just stating how it is.” To show her that I’m not getting into a confrontation over it, and that I’m totally fine with drawing that boundary—and no, I don’t need to run away to my room like a scared little boy—I take the armchair, which seems wise until she sighs and moves closer.

I walked right into that trap. Cole and Jason would be howling at me right now, because I’m cornered between a determined, sexy woman and the wall. Rookie mistake, and I’m no rookie.

“You’ve got rules,” she whispers, her lips twisting in a smirk. “And you think I can’t play within them?”

Alarm bells clang inside my head. “Something like that.”

“You wanna tell me what these rules are?”

“Nope. I want you to go to bed.”

“Tuck me in.”

“Not going to happen.”

“It’s my birthday.”

I need to get up and walk away from her. I try. I stand up, and she moves back. I need to walk past her and into my own room, tell her I’ll see her in the morning and close the door. But then she sighs and turns around, her long, honey-brown waves spilling down her back as she glances at me over her shoulder.

“If you won’t come tuck me in, the least you could do is unzip my dress.” She walks a few feet away from me, giving me lots of space.

I clear my throat. “You got into it, you can get yourself out of it.”

“I had Hailey’s help, actually. But okay. Hmmm.” She twists her arms behind her back—f*ck


, how is she that bendy? This is not good for my control. Her fingertips snag her zipper and she tugs, revealing a widening triangle of skin. Not the bra she flaunted earlier.

No bra at all.

f*ck


me, because now all I can think about is the question, is she wearing those panties?

Is she wearing anything under that dress?

“Don’t jerk me around, Ali.” My voice is strained. I’m close to snapping. I don’t want her to know it’s really that I’m close to breaking, so I let her think I’m straight-up angry about the tease.

Truth is, I’m not sure she realizes just how far she’s pushing me. Something she said earlier has been bugging me.

Here’s to another year of bodyguard-enforced virginity.

She’s hot as f*ck


, and she’s been in college for almost three years.

No way is she still a virgin.

I haven’t.

“I’m not…” She sighs and turns around, and she’s gorgeous and sexy and totally innocent as she gives me a helpless little shoulder shrug. “Okay. I guess I’m pushing you hard. I’m sorry.”

God damn it. I scrub my hand over my face. “I don’t get involved with clients, or the family of clients. I don’t do high-profile relationships. I don’t have one-night stands.” The words drill out of me, slamming against her. “And those are just three of the reasons why this can’t happen. What else? Did you think about what happens when you wake up from this hormone-driven fun-fest?”

Her face slacks. She looks stricken. I’m an ass*ole


.

“Maybe you aren’t thinking of the consequences. Maybe you can’t imagine them yet, but there are adult—”

“Stop calling me a child.”

“Stop acting like one.” I sigh as that hangs between us, harsher than it needs to be. And it’s not really true. “I’m the last person to romanticize sex, believe me, but—”

“Then don’t,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. Her dress is still unzipped behind her, and the straps are all loose and wobbly. I watch as one shifts to the outer edge of her shoulder. Another blithe shrug and it would drop down her arm, baring the top of her breast. “Don’t romanticize anything. Clearly I haven’t done a good enough job of making it clear that I’m just looking for a safe hook-up.”

“I told you. I don’t do casual hook-ups, so you’re out of luck.”

She frowns, her lower lip plumping out in a way that says, taste me, ass*ole


. Taste me and then tell me you don’t want me. “What do you do?”

“All due respect, Ms. Reid, that’s not really your business.”

“Your hard-on says it is.” She recrosses her arms, loosening her hold on her dress. It slips a bit.

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