For Her Protection(20)
“Please, Connor.”
“Say it,” he demanded, his palm rocking against her hard, moving with his cock to bring her close to the precipice then stopping to apply another stinging slap.
She shook her head against him. “I can’t.”
His movements slowed, became long and luxurious, the pressure tormenting her nerves. “Then you miss out. If you want this, you’re going to have to learn this is one thing you don’t get to dictate.”
He released her pussy and her hair but remained against her. She had to fight the urge to sink to the floor and cry in desperation. Fight the urge to turn around and beg, say whatever the hell he wanted her to say.
“Anytime you want it, kitten, all you got to do is say so. Say that pussy’s mine, say you give it to me. Say the words and I’ll make sure you come ’til your teeth fall out.” He whispered the words, a soft promise that cut its way inside her, gentle and yet horrifying.
“Now go shower, it’s time to go to work.”
* * * * *
By lunchtime, Charlize knew she was completely capable of homicide. She rotated the pen in her hand and flashed a look at the man who’d set himself up far too comfortably on the other side of her desk. Yes sexalicious bodyguard Connor Crowe was about to be victim number one. Actually make that one and two. She was considering reviving him just so she could kill him again.
He glanced up and one of his dark brows rose. “You know you’d get more work done if you’d quit eye-fucking me every few minutes.”
Her nostrils expanded with her intake of breath. Oh the bastard. He’d caused her a near-lethal case of purple-clit or whatever the female version of blue-balls was, hovered over her every single second, distracting the hell out of her, and now he had the nerve to tease her.
“It’s a fuck-off look, not a fuck-me look, Connor.”
He glanced back at his laptop. “If you say so. It’s not my fault you’re getting so worked up over me sitting here all innocent, analyzing your network.”
“Innocent would be setting up on the couch. There’s a perfectly good coffee table.”
Connor straightened but still stared at his screen, pushing the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt higher. “I’m tall—you don’t want me to hunch, do you?”
She let silence answer that one but he ignored the implication.
“Good then, I appreciate the consideration of my workplace safety.”
Charlize tossed down her pen. “You’re a bodyguard, isn’t it your job to like forgo safety for clients?”
He glanced up so she continued.
“I thought you bodyguards were supposed to be invisible—like shadows. Shouldn’t you be standing against the wall all inconspicuous, wearing sunglasses?”
His lips twitched smugly. “I’m multipurpose, baby. Right now I’m in head-of-security mode but if you want me to put this down and concentrate all my attention on you, just say so.”
She swallowed. “Get back to work then and stop distracting me.”
A knock sounded on the door and Lia stepped in. “The girls and I are going to lunch, you wanna come, sugar?”
Charlize smiled even though the question caused a dull pang in her chest. Lia asked the same question every day, and every day Charlize gave the same answer. “I can’t today but thanks for asking.”
Lia nodded and ran a curious eye over Connor’s back.
“Have a nice time, Lia.”
Lia wiggled her fingers at Charlize and shut the door. Charlize glanced out the window. The view outside promised she’d smell summer in the air. No clouds, just dizzying, dry sun. Not that she’d have a chance to enjoy the beautiful day. The sun would be setting by the time she left the office. She should’ve gone with Lia, accepted her invitation. Wouldn’t kill me to get out of here for a while. Not to mention making a few friends might improve my life…get back to how things used to be.
“You could go you know. I’m not gonna cramp your style. I’ll sit on my own, all inconspicuous like.”
He winked and her insides warmed.
Was he for real? A man as possessive as Connor who wasn’t compelled to keep a woman squirreled away to himself? Who didn’t demand every moment of a woman’s attention in order to maintain his ego? She looked at him. Really looked at him. The stubborn jut of his jaw, the stubble coating it, the arch of his brows. Even relaxed and playful he was still a thousand times more masculine then her ex.
And Simon had reacted like a tantrum-throwing toddler anytime her universe wasn’t rotating exclusively around him. In the end she’d only been able to have phone conversations with other people when he was working.