Chapter Twenty-One

She squirted the shampoo into her hand and raked it through her hair. The hot needles beating down on her did little for the tension in her shoulders and neck. She’d emailed David to get onto any blogger sites, and scan for evidence that her cover had been blown. God, she was stupid sometimes. A damn fan for Christ’s sake? They’d have to up the public presence of them being a believable couple at the very least, especially if they were being watched.

She stepped back and closed her eyes, letting the steam combine with heat wash away the day. The minty cloud did nothing to overpower the smell of him that still lingered in the shower. The same smell of leather and soap that followed her around daily.

MacKenzie had a problem, and it wasn’t just that they were in a sticky situation. She was falling for Jon, and hard. She knew that this was going to take all the strength above and beyond all the physical training she had endured in her life. The pull of attraction to him, made her ache if she let it. It was a fucked up situation to be in, resisting a man that you had to touch as part of your job. It just wasn’t fair. And it wasn’t fair to him, her employer that she was distracted.

She tried to ask herself why she was falling for the man, he matched her strength and her will in life. He was a good person, he made her laugh and he knew what he wanted and how to get it. Putting aside he was insanely hot and was a great kisser. Christ MacKenzie.

For the last hour she’d tried in her head to think of every way to make this even work, but she couldn’t. As long as she was responsible for his life, she couldn’t be in love with him.

Jon woke, a couch cushion jammed under his cheek and one of the throws over his shoulders. The downstairs held the blue cast of night. They’d been watching a movie, but he must have dozed off. Sleep was something he didn’t allow himself all that much. In fact, he pretty much sustained himself on five hours a night, but every once in awhile he dropped like a stone for an extra long nap.

Sea air and two beers will do that, ass hole.

He grimaced, rubbing his neck as he sat up. The couch was definitely not like his leather one at home. He shuffled up the stairs, dragging his t-shirt over his head. The house felt stifling. Of course security girl had every flippin’ window practically nailed shut for security reasons. He wasn’t sure what kind of info she’d gotten from her partner, but whatever it was had her over cautious.

Scratching his belly, he pushed the door to the bathroom open before he noticed the shower running and the low lights of the vanity mirror as Kenzie’s only illumination. What was she doing taking…

His thoughts trailed off as she lifted her arms to wring soap from her hair. The suds slithered over her shoulders and down the sweet dip of her amazing back. The bubbles gathered at the cleft of her cheeks before making tracks over her hips and her ropy runner’s legs.

She turned to duck her head under the rainwater showerhead and he stumbled back a step. The high curve of her breast beaded tight as the steam wafted up from her rain dotted skin. The long line of her torso made his mouth water, especially when she turned her face up to the spray, obviously enjoying the heat.

Stop watching, perv. Jon bumped into the door and out, pressing his back to the cool wall. He dragged his hand through his hair. Good job, asshole, now you get to live with that in your head. Congrats.

He kicked open his own door and ripped off the rest of his clothes. The crisp cotton of the sheets only made his dick harden more. He stared at the ceiling. It was going to be a long fucking night.

She cranked off the shower and wrapped a towel swiftly around her body and made her way back to the guest room. She couldn't see him right now, not when she was all riled and primed for jumping his bones. Sleep. That's what she needed.

At two am she cursed into the dark room and sat up and flipped on the bedside lamp. This was ridiculous, she couldn't sleep. Every creek or noise in the house had her up checking out the window or peering down the hallway. She didn't know whether she was on guard for an intruder, or Jon slipping into her bed. She gave a disgusted huff and grabbed the blanket and headed downstairs. She needed some space between them, as long as she knew they were not far apart naked in bed. She wasn't going to sleep.

She crept around, careful to make as less noise as possible finding candles and some matches before heading out to the porch. It was seasonably chilly, but she liked the cold. It always cleared her head. Tugging the blanket around her body she pulled her knees into her chest and stared out at the street. It was going to be a long night, but the gentle glow of candlelight and sea breeze was already calming her.

Jon rocketed his pillow across the room and watched as his Lazy boy swished with the heavy feather pillow bomb. Christ, that was the third pillow to make it onto the chair, but it still didn't stop the scene of bubbles and steam that was tripping like a broken record in his head.

He was acting like a randy 15 year old on his first crush for fuck's sake. He needed sleep, this thing to be over...And MacKenzie flat on her back, thighs open.

"Argh!" he screamed into his remaining pillow. He swung his feet out and jerked his jeans on. Obviously he needed a cigarette before he went out of his mind and crawled into her bed, damn the consequences.


He felt around his pockets and swore. Of course they were in his coat pocket because he didn't fucking smoke in his own goddamn house. He padded down the stairs, the moonlight gilding his living room with enough white light that he could see his coat rack.

Reaching around the various jackets, he found the one he was wearing earlier and sure enough--there they were.

MacKenzie jerked her head up at the scuffle. Oh god, please don’t say they’ve come back for more, into the house and are escaping through the front. I’m sure I checked that back door. She snuck to the side of the door and waited for her assailant, they wouldn’t expect her so she’d easily be able to get the upper hand. The door creaked open and she took a deep breath. With one flying leap she screamed took him from the back wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, his cool skin pressing against her. Skin? Oh shit --- they both fell with a thump onto the hardwood floor.

He grunted under her as she tried to remove her limbs now entwined with his. "Shit" she muttered as her face scrunched into his neck. "You need to move..."

He tried to think about moving, but her knee was about a millimetre from his nuts. He hissed. "Mac, if you move your knee I'm going to be singing a new octave on Friday night."

“Oh god, sorry...” She shifted her weight and rolled back onto the floor, so much for keeping away from him – naked.

Jon rolled over onto her once more. Her eyes glittering in the low light of the tree shadowed porch. "Is there a reason you tackled me? Or do you just find me that irresistible?"

Her eyes fell to his lips. Someone up there really hates me, seriously. Their eyes meant and her heart thundered in her chest. What if she said yes, what if she gave in and kissed him? Would he take her to his bed? “I thought you were an intruder, after today...I was on edge.” His eyes searched hers, all she had to do was say it, or do it. “Help me up?” Chicken.

He figured it was probably best to listen to what she said, not what her body was doing under his. Not the fact that her thighs had opened to accept him or that her nipples were currently digging through his chest hair. He should probably listen to her. Probably. His mouth lowered, barely brushing her lips.

He knew she could heave him off with little effort, but did she really want to?

Her fingers curled around his neck, and the heat pulsed off his body between them. Barely a kiss but a challenge, he wasn’t going to back down, she was. She pressed her forehead against his and sighed. Beneath them, against her belly she could feel the tell tale signs of his erection.

Her lips grazed his full bottom one, why did this feel so god damn right? Her tongue traced his upper lip before she retreated. That was as far as she could go. "Jon you gotta get off me," her voice cracked and she could of cursed herself for it.

He braced a palm on each side of her face. His eyes raked over her flushed cheeks, the quick rise of her breasts under him as he slowly pushed off of her. Everything inside of him told him to press harder. Just a little more and he'd have her. The threads of attraction were binding and braiding between them, he could feel it. Just a step farther and he'd finally...What? He'd sleep with his bodyguard.

With a curse, he lifted off of her and grabbed his smokes that had fallen to the floor. He banged through the French doors, his lighter the only light beyond the stars. He dragged in deeply; the rush of nicotine cleared his head. He blew it out, an almost inaudible, "fuck," with the last of the wispy grey smoke.

She hoisted herself back up and dusted off her thighs. She followed him back inside, even side on the night light showed off the perfect contours of his body. Damn sometimes it was really just better to imagine what was under there, than have it shoved in your face. The light splatter of fur on his chest made her fingers curl, she wanted to touch. And his biceps and abs, just ridiculous. She was getting zero-sleep tonight. Before she thought more she reached up and traced the outline of the steers head on his arm. “Where did you get this?”

She looked out into the dense pathways behind his house. Laughing darkly, he blew out another stream of smoke. "The day I got married. Figured a little more pain was due me, evidently."

She nodded. "I'm sure." It would have been easier if he was still married. Then she'd know he was off limits. No bounds. She moved her hand off him and ran it down the wooden pillar. "So what do we have next on our agenda? Hillary's bash?"

He crossed his arms, kneading his fingers into his bicep. "Yeah, Mrs. C's been good to me, least I can do is help her save face."

She kept her gaze on him but his was still out to the yard. "You know Jon I've been around a lot of high profiled people. But I've got to say, you are one of the most down to earth ones, I've met. Plus I can see you ave a big heart. That's commendable."

I'd rather have a big orgasm. "Thanks. I'm lucky enough to give back." He crouched down and stabbed out his butt. Trying to ignore her silky calves right there, he could trace his knuckle up and along her inner thigh...Stop. Fuck.

She watched him slowly rise all the way back up, until his eyes again her heavy on hers. "I guess we need to get to bed, I mean beds. Us...."

His mouth quirked. "Yeah, my bed's calling my name."


So is mine. She waited for him to lead the way so she knew he was safely inside before they snicked the locks. She followed his lead back up the stairs where he stopped at his door. He was testing her right to the damn end. All she could see was the king sized bed, strewn in sheets behind him. When his eyebrow quirked she took a deep breath. "Night Jon" and quickly found the safety of the guest room.

"Night, Kenzie." Her shoulders stiffened just before she closed herself off from him. Good, I'm not the only one that's suffering. He shut his door and shucked his jeans. "Four fucking AM," he muttered and buried his head in his lone pillow.