For Her Protection: 1 (Personal Protection) (5 page)

Charlize backed up to the next door and tugged it open. “Why
don’t you go on and hold your breath while you wait?” She stepped into the room
and slammed the door behind her.

* * * * *

Rap
,
rap
,
rap
.

The sound vibrated through her dream, drawing her out of the
warm depths of sleep.
What the hell
? Charlize frowned and an ache
stretched over her cheekbone. Another rap sounded on her door. She touched the
graze on her cheek.

“Wakey, wakey, kitten. It’s time to start the day.”

That voice—that arrogant drawl—it all came back. She
groaned. The parking lot, the hospital and the ridiculous decision to agree to
be stalked by the last person she needed around. Fear did screwed-up things to
people. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and cleared her throat. “It’s
5:00 a.m., go away.”

“I know what time it is. It’s time to work out.”

She threw off the blankets and sat up. “I don’t work out
this early.”

It would be pointless trying to get back to sleep now. That
didn’t mean he needed to think he was master of her schedule.

“You do when you’re getting free private self-defense
lessons. So get your ass out here or I’ll come in there and haul it out.”

Heat slid all the way up from her bare toes to the center of
her belly. She could almost feel the clamp of his arm over the back of her
thighs as she remembered when he’d thrown her over his shoulder. She squeezed
her legs together and felt the delicious ache still there. Part of her wanted
to throw herself back on the bed and dare him. Part of her wanted to call his
bluff, or worse yet, have the satisfaction of having him go through with his
threat. Have him give her an excuse, just one excuse to lose her shit the way
he made her want to.

“All right, just let me get ready,” she called. No, she’d
gone far enough with that slap. He made her lose control. What she needed was
to keep a tighter rein on her emotions. Not to mention, self-defense lessons
sounded really good with the memories of the night before skirting the edges of
her mind. She shuddered and pushed the thought aside. The cops would get
Gregory. She was safe.

“Ten minutes.”

She strode to the door and yelled, “Fifteen.” Like hell he
was putting her on his schedule. She pulled her gym clothes out of a drawer and
strode to the bathroom. When she emerged more like seventeen minutes had passed
but he’d waited. She smiled. Guess he was all bluff and bluster.

She swung her door open and jumped. Connor stood in the
doorway, thick arms crossed, looking like trouble with a hard-on. He’d been
clean-shaven yesterday but obviously had not bothered to shave this morning. A
dark layer of black bristle coated his jaw, roughening him just enough to take
him from athletic panther to something even wilder.

And fuck if the look of him didn’t make her want to tug her
pants down and bend over right there. Because she was crazy. A crazy, horny,
frustrated idiot who needed to work out like a demon the minute she got to the
gym.

A familiar beep chimed and he pressed his watch. He smiled,
his teeth appearing even whiter against his dark stubble. “You’re lucky. I gave
you three extra minutes.”

Her mouth opened. “You timed me? You don’t get to time me.”

Conner took one long stride toward her, his hand pressing
against the wall beside her head. The minty scent of his breath washed over her
face.

“You seem confused. I’m here to protect you. You were hurt
yesterday and I’m going to make fucking sure that doesn’t happen again. So when
I say do something, you do it because what I’m telling you to do might be the
thing that saves you. Got it?”

Her cheeks warmed and she pressed her lips together. “Don’t
start thinking this situation gives you free rein over me.”

His free hand slid to her chin and held it. “You can stop
trying to wrestle your way on top, kitten. I know you’ve got massive balls, you
can quit trying to prove it.” He dropped her chin. “Hurry, I have a training
routine planned for you. I assumed you’d be glad to hone some defensive skills.
In fact I thought that would be just your thing.”

Fuck him, he was more annoying when he was right.

Charlize slid out from under his arm and strode to her
handbag and keys before throwing a glance over her shoulder. “I drive.”

He gifted her with his slow grin. “That’s what you think.”

Connor tossed the boxing mitts into the corner and watched
Charlize gulp from her water bottle while leaning her arm on the wall for
support. He smiled softly. She was something all right—he’d never met anyone
like her. He’d put her through the kind of hellish boxing routine that had most
clients dropping their punches after fifteen minutes. But no matter how hard he’d
pushed her she’d come back harder, no matter how bad it must hurt. She’d lasted
an hour.

He’d destroyed her.

It amazed him she could still stand. The thought made him
smile. Asshole? Maybe a little but she needed to work some shit out of her
system. She wouldn’t have any energy left to devote to stressing out over the
fucker who’d hurt her or the pricks that worked for her.

“Okay, enough rest, it’s time for self-defense instruction.”

Charlize turned her back against the wall, still leaning on
it for support. Her skin shone with sweat, flushed a sexy pink—exactly how she’d
look in his bed after he was done with her.

“What do you mean? We just did an hour of boxing, what do
you call that?”

Connor rolled a blue exercise mat into the center of the
room. He’d booked the space this time and they still had half an hour. He
intended to make the most of every minute. “I call that cardio. Now get your
ass over to the mat. I’m not done with you.”

Her pretty chin scrunched. She wanted to argue—didn’t she
always? But she put her water down and swayed over to him.

“What else you got then?”

He smiled. “Grab my wrists and watch carefully.”

Charlize sighed and grasped his wrists. Her fingers curled
over his skin. For a second he had to think about a maneuver that was normally
as natural to him as breathing. He rotated his arm, snapping her hold on him,
then stepped in fast, hooked his foot behind her ankle, grasped her arm and
sent her sprawling onto the mat.

She landed on her hip with a grunt. He released the wrist he’d
gripped to break her fall and she sprang up on her sneakers.

“What the hell was that for?”

“That’s how to break a hold and get away.” He circled her,
coming up behind her and grasping her shoulders. “We’ll start with breaking the
hold and then move on to the getting-away step.” He shoved his foot between her
sneakers and nudged her legs apart. He leaned closer. “First of all when you
face someone, distribute your weight evenly. Bend your knees slightly and you
won’t be knocked over so easily.”

She said nothing but the muscles under his hands tightened.

He walked back around and faced her. “Your turn.” He grasped
her wrist and tugged her closer, watched her eyes widen, her breath rush
between her lips. He stared down into her flushed face before holding up her
wrist. “This is the weak spot right here.” He ran his finger over the silky,
pale skin of her arm where his thumb and fingers joined. “You want to rotate
your wrist toward the weakness and apply force away from it. Twist and push.”

Her gaze followed his fingers over her skin.

“Try it slowly.”

She took a breath and rotated her wrist then pushed her arm
free—hard. He grinned. She was a pro. Charlize raised an eyebrow, her lips
tugging up to one side. He’d let her enjoy this brief success because the rest
wouldn’t be so easy.

“Good. Now we repeat it until you can do it clean and
smooth.”

They went through the move over and over. The skin on her
wrists grew red then raw. Not as raw as the look on her face when she completed
the move for the tenth time and all he said was “again”.

He reached for her and she jerked her wrist away before he
could clutch it.

“Enough dammit, I can do it. I can do it perfectly.”

He seized her one last time. “Can you? Do it again now and
we’ll stop.”

Her face flamed and her lips thinned. She twisted her
forearm, straining muscles, but he tightened his grip, prevented her from
rotating away from him. He caught her other wrist to bring her hot little
curves against him.

“I want you to be able to do it without thinking, to be able
to get away from me when I’m actually trying.”

Her expression shattered, her features fell. “All this time
you weren’t trying?” Her chest heaved. “What the hell is the point of this
then? If all you’re teaching me is stupid, wanky maneuvers I can’t use for
real.” She fought him, futilely trying to twist her wrists away.

A pang of guilt hit him but he ignored it. They needed to
start at the beginning and she needed to learn properly. He was the expert—she’d
learn it his way.

She shrieked and pain slammed up from his knee-cap. His grip
loosened for a moment and she moved, twisting her wrists and breaking his hold.
She vaulted back from him, her gaze murdering him.

What
the
…?

She’d actually done it. The sneaky she-cat kicked him in the
knee and got away.
Damn
…

“You bastard, you made me think I was actually going to
learn something. You made me think I’d be able to protect myself. Why don’t you
teach me something real?” Tears shone in her luminous eyes. “Why don’t you
teach me how to get away from some fucker who’s got me by the back of the head?”

His breath stilled, dread slinked through him at the aching
hopelessness in her voice.

“Why don’t you show me what to do when my face is being
slammed into something and some prick is trying to get into me from behind?
What the fuck do I do if I can’t use my teeth? If they’re not covering my
mouth, what the fuck do I do then?” Her voice cracked.

He stepped closer but she backed away. Fuck. He was going to
kill that asshole. First he was going to address this problem, make sure she
did know exactly what she could do. He couldn’t give her an instant fix but she
was more resourceful than she realized. He’d make sure she never had to wear
this kind of frightened look again.

“Don’t you see, Charlize? You did learn, you broke my hold.”

He nodded to her wrists and she glanced down at them,
frowning.

“You used your instincts just like you did last night, and
both times you got away.” He approached again and this time she didn’t flee. “I
can’t teach you that, it’s something you come by naturally. Technique takes
time but I will show you what you want to know. So you can feel safe. We’ll
focus on what’s worrying you right now.”

Her bottom lip quivered and she glanced away.

“Do you want that? Do you want to do this now? If you’ve had
enough, we can stop, we’ll try again tomorrow.”

She gazed at him, her expression steady again. “No, show me.”

“Turn around.”

She turned. Her long neck rose gracefully above the smooth
stretch of skin on her upper back. He stepped up behind her and grasped her bun
and gently pulled until her neck arched. She went rigid except for the slight
tremble of her shoulders. This was no good. She wasn’t ready for this. It was
too soon. He kept hold of her bun but rested his cheek on the side of her head.

“Charlize, breathe. Who is behind you?”

She said nothing, just gulped air. His chest tightened and
he smoothed his free hand down her arm. “Inhale slowly. Feel me, who is behind
you this time?”

“Connor,” she whispered shakily.

Relief coursed through him. “That’s right. It’s me behind
you. I’m the one protecting you. I’m never going to be the one hurting you.”

She sagged against him and he wrapped his arm around her
middle. His fingers tightened on her bun and his lips moved against her neck.

“You’re safe and by the time I’m done with you, no fucker’s
ever going to be able to hurt you again—you won’t give them the chance.”

He felt it the moment her fear melted into the heat that
generated whenever they touched. She went liquid against him. Moved restlessly,
shifted, her gasps fading into breathless pants. He glanced up at the door.
Good thing he’d thought to lock it.

“And you know what, kitten? If I’m going to look after you,
take care of you, I think we both know what you need now…”

He pressed his lips to her ear and thrust his hardening cock
against the backside fidgeting against him. “You don’t need to train, you need
to come.”

A small sound escaped her, giving him the truth. He knew
what she needed and how she needed it, even if she didn’t. He’d known the
moment she’d bucked against him the first time he’d pinned her. This girl
needed to fight and she needed to fuck, and part of her was trying to do both
at the same time—and that scared the shit out of him. She needed to fight
because she needed to lose control. Lines he’d never dared to near were about
to get trampled.

But fuck it, he’d damn well make sure he was the one to show
her what she wanted.

Come
. Shit, she needed more than just to come. She
needed him to take her apart and put her back together, all with the erection
teasing her backside. At some point she’d gone from wanting to kill him to
wanting to cry, then wanting nothing more than to lose herself against him. But
his statement took her breath away, made her feel vulnerable again. He was
right—again.

“You have to say it, kitten. Say you want to come.”

Moisture pooled between her legs, her pussy throbbed,
begging her to do what he demanded. But her cheeks heated, her tongue went
limp. Ask for it? The cock pressed against her bottom shifted and slid along
the seam of her skintight leggings and pushed between her thighs.

She closed her eyes. The hand around her waist moved to her
pussy, cupping it fiercely. He squeezed.

“Tell me you want it. I need to hear you say yes. Say yes
and you get to come.”

The pressure on her aching mound made her want to scream.
She squeezed her eyes and nodded. He lifted his hand and slapped her. Slapped
her right on her desperate clit. She jerked in his arms.

“No. You say it, you say you want it.”

He cupped her again, this time pumping his palm against her,
shooting pleasure through her core. Her thighs twitched. His rigid shaft thrust
from behind as his palm pummeled her.

“Please,” she gasped, twisting, but he still held her by her
bun.

His breath kissed her ear. “Say it. Say, ‘make me come,
Connor’. Say, ‘this pussy is yours, Connor’.”

He slapped her pussy again and she bucked. Oh god. She bit
her lip, tensions tightening to the point of agony. She might have been able to
say it if he hadn’t added that last bit…

She couldn’t, wouldn’t say that. But—if he didn’t finish
this, she’d die.

“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.