Bossing Up My Bodyguard: A Billionaire Romance (Haven Isle Book 4) by L.A. Pepper

Author:L.A. Pepper [Pepper, L.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-25T16:00:00+00:00

GRACE

We were in the car again. After he had entirely blown my mind with the most passionate, soul-stirring sex I’d ever had, with hardly a word exchanged. After we had taken a shower together and he’d fucked me again up against the salmon tile, hard and fast and fierce, still with no words. Fucked, not made love. After we’d eaten the amazing dinner with a quattro formaggio pizza and a cedar plank-roasted whole grouper with remoulade and polenta, and hardly a word except about the food or the weather or the ‘mission’, as he called it.

It was getting dark, the clouds thicker than before, and we were back in the car again, ready to meet my contact, while I was still reeling from the way he had played with my body. I had an envelope of cash in the fanny pack he’d demanded I carry. And there we were in the car as if we were stuck in a time loop, with him giving me a lecture about how I needed to play the little wifey, CeeCee Keen, and let him take care of everything, while acting as if we hadn’t just had mindblowing sex. He was back to being the bodyguard, cold and all business, and treating me like a naive idiot again. I wasn’t allowed to expose my real identity because he had to keep me safe, even from the contact who already knew who I was, which didn’t make any sense, considering he’d sent the message to me in the first place.

Keen went on and on about his experience in war time, how dangerous it was. How he was the one who knew about covert operations and he had done it a dozen times so just let him take care of everything.

I didn’t care anymore what information my stupid contact had.

I just wanted to stay in the hip little mid century modern retro hotel room and make love with Keen as many times as we could while pretending that this was real life.

Instead, we were in the stupid plastic toy car, driving through a raging storm on the way to meet with some guy about some supposed clue to catch a murderer.

What did I care, really? My father was still dead. And I recognized that he was still a terrible father, even though I had been his favorite little girl. I knew that. I wasn’t stupid, although everyone treated me like I was so naive. And I understood that my obsession with Catherine Lockhart was probably unhealthy, even if she had murdered my father. Or not.

I just didn’t care anymore.

I was fully aware that I was getting dangerously obsessive about Keen now, and I was having a hard time separating my emotions from what was clearly just, you know, fucking the princess.

But it didn’t feel like fucking the princess. Or fucking the bodyguard.

I didn’t feel like I was in a Whitney Houston movie, or even a Hallmark Christmas Special.

It felt real. It felt like we were together, in a way I’d never been with anyone else.

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