The Bodyguard (Red's Tavern 7)

“Stop,” he said, shaking his head a little.

“Stop what?”

“I can tell you’re overthinking things again.”

“Not really,” I protested.

“Theo, I can tell,” he said.

“God, you’re fucking good,” I whispered, pulling in another long breath. “Too good. I’m so used to being surrounded by yes men. People who let me get away with my bullshit.”

“You’re a very charming person,” he told me. “I certainly understand why you’re usually the one in control.”

I bit my lower lip. “But maybe that’s why it feels so damn good to have someone else in control,” I said.

To have you in control, I thought silently. Truthfully, I didn’t think I’d want anybody else’s ass telling me what to do. Roman was right—I usually did like being in control, whether it was in my career, my personal life, or especially when it came to physical stuff.

I couldn’t remember the last time I trusted someone else enough to let them have a little more control.

But with Roman, it felt right. It felt better than right. He had the most gentle soul, packed inside one of the strongest people I’d ever met.

I trusted him.

And especially after a day like today, that trust was like a fucking lifeboat in a storm.

“On your stomach,” he said again. I complied, turning over on the couch and settling onto my stomach. My cock mashed up against the couch through my pants, and I had to resist the urge to start rutting up against the cushion. In a moment, Roman had dipped low again, pressing another kiss to the side of my neck from behind me now. “You are fucking gorgeous, by the way,” he offered, his voice low and velvety by my ear.

“Are you a mind-reader or something?” I murmured as he sat up and straddled me, massaging his fingers down the flanks of my back. “It’s not every day I have a man with a perfect fighter’s body looking at my mediocre abs. I admit it, I was wondering what you thought.”

“I’m not a mind reader, but I’m getting good at telling how you feel,” he said, continuing to massage the deep tension out of my shoulders. It felt like fucking heaven on Earth. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a professional massage, but Roman’s strong hands were just as good. Better. “And it helps that you can’t keep your mouth shut about how you feel, usually, either.”

My face was pressed into a soft pillow, but I was smiling, nonetheless. “You’re amazing, Roman.”

“Take off your pants.”

My cock throbbed up against the couch cushion.

“I have never wanted to follow orders more than I do right now, from you,” I said as he lifted off of me, letting me turn over and undo my belt. I looked up at him, watching as he pulled off his own shirt, revealing a torso so ridiculously perfect it almost made me want to scream.

I stopped for a moment, just watching him, my jaw hanging open. “How the fuck…” I said, trailing off.

“Quiet. Get those pants off.”

He was still telling me what to do, but I could see the faintest streaks of pink on his cheeks and the hint of a smile on his lips.

He liked this.

He liked having me watch him, sizing up his body and drooling over him like he was a damn sculpture. And knowing that I got to be the first man who’d ever done anything like this with him made me feel like the luckiest dude alive. The fact that his blush got a little more obvious as he took off his pants only made it sweeter.

Roman was obviously proud of his body, and he wanted to show it off to me, too. He was only wearing black boxer briefs now, and I could see the outline of his very hard cock protruding through the front.

“You are so fucking hot,” I said. “I would let you do anything to me. You could have fucked me in your truck that first night we met. Christ, you could have bent me over that meeting table on the day I was hiring you, and I would have begged you for another round.”

“Lordy,” he said, running a hand over his face.

“What? Don’t act surprised,” I said. “You know I’m not shy. You knew what you were getting into. I would lick every inch of you, Roman.”

“Do you always talk this much during sex?”

“Are you usually quiet during sex?” I asked. “I know I can’t shut up, but I promise you, I could monologue for hours about every inch of you. Get over here.”

He shook his head slowly. “No. You don’t even have your pants off yet. Get them off,” he said, looking me up and down. “Now.”

I remembered everything in one quick second.

Roman was in control here. And the moment he got commanding like that again, a flash of heat seared through my body all over again.