Protect Me: A Bodyguard Romance by Lauren Biel

Protect Me: A Bodyguard Romance by Lauren Biel

Author:Lauren Biel [Biel, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lauren Biel
Published: 2024-06-15T18:30:00+00:00


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Isabella

I drop my face to my fist as we pass familiar areas, and Vance remains silent on the drive home. His lips are drawn tight in a frown, and I’m surprised he’s not in a better mood. He got to get off, unlike me.

“That was stupid, Bella. You know that, right?” he finally says.

I shrug. “No one noticed anything. Relax.”

His dark eyes jump to mine. “Yeah, but if they had, we’d both be dead. Why is being a dirty fucking girl worth more to you than your life? Or my life.”

My eyes narrow. “Because I don’t want to make my future husband come. I want to make you come.”

“You think I didn’t want to slip my hand up your skirt and fuck you with my fingers until you came in front of your future family? But I didn’t, because I’m old enough to realize that I can do that for you at home, when we aren’t in a place with far more guns than I have on me.”

I scoff. “I’m not a child, Vance. I’m old enough to realize it too. But I needed to put my hand on you. The flame of jealousy in your eyes drove me crazy.”

I wanted his jealousy to pour out of him and onto my hand. The frustrating pleasure on his face made me hunger for his come.

Not mine.

His.

“You wait till we get home, little girl. I’ll show you the real definition of need.”

His words make my mouth gape. He sure knows how to say things that make me a sopping wet mess. My mind goes to him between my legs, to his expert tongue licking at my clit. It makes me want to tug my panties aside and fuck myself with my fingers to calm the ache.

We pull into the underground garage at my house. Vance still looks irritated, but there’s something more in his expression as well. Something feral.

He walks around the car and opens my door. The intensity in his dark eyes makes me uncomfortable, but his menacing smirk only excites me. Warm breath rolls over my neck as he leans toward my ear.

“Go inside, and by the time I’m in there, you better have your panties off. Do you understand?”

My eyes round. “Yes, daddy,” I whisper.

He can’t touch me in this garage—there are cameras everywhere—and the tremble to his hands says he’s fighting the urge to do exactly that.

I walk across the garage and head inside. I don’t hear him following, but I know he will. When I close the door behind me, the familiar scent of home welcomes me. The silence, however, is far from familiar.

I raise the hem of my dress and slip off my panties, then I open the door again and hang the black fabric on the outside doorknob before closing it once more.

Where the hell is he?

I pour myself some red wine and sit at the island, growing impatient with each sip. He’s taking his sweet time because it’s mental foreplay. He knows I’m



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