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I could only imagine Bryce standing in for family photos, pretending to care, just as I would. And when the photo shoot was over, we’d all go our separate ways. The kids with their nanny and me off to whatever charity function or luncheon I had on the books.
But as I thought of it, the image of Bryce slowly disappeared and Brock’s face filled in the missing gap. My eyes flew open and I pushed off the door. Scoffing, I tore my dress over my head and tossed it on the floor. The last thing I needed to think about was Brock in any sort of capacity other than my bodyguard. Yes, he had given me the most amazing orgasm of my life. In fact, I hadn’t known things could be so good with a man. I just assumed that what I had received in the past was as good as it got.
Apparently, those men had no idea what they were doing. Brock had made me come so quickly, using only his knuckles rubbing against my clit and his warm breath caressing my skin.
“And then he left,” I muttered to myself. “Not that I needed him for anything else.”
What the man lacked in social refinement, he made up for with the use of his hands. I briefly wondered if I could persuade him to help me out in another area while he was protecting me. After all, we had an image to uphold to the public. Why couldn’t we enjoy the benefits of our arrangement?
I shook my head, trying my best not to think about what could be. It didn’t matter. That would mix signals and throw off the whole idea of keeping him at a distance. I didn’t want anyone in my personal space, and by having a sexual relationship, it was bound to blur the lines.
A knock jolted me out of my lust for a man who was wholly inappropriate for me. I spun, standing only in my slip, and headed for the door. I never cared about how I appeared to others. This was my house, and if they didn’t want to see me in a state of undress, they shouldn’t bother me in the middle of the day.
I flung the door open, surprised to see Brock standing on the other side. “Did you need something?”
His eyes bugged out of his head as he took in my appearance. Wearing only a tight black slip and thigh-high stockings held up with garters, I got the feeling he was shocked to see that under my conservative attire was a woman who liked to feel beautiful.
“Um…”
I raised an eyebrow at him, enjoying this way too much. “What’s wrong? Is it something I’m wearing?”
I watched as his throat worked hard to swallow. I was quite pleased with myself. Brock only wanted me to prove a point, but now that he saw the whole package, he was questioning why he hadn’t taken things further.
“I…came here to…apologize.”
“For what?”
“Fuck if I know,” he muttered.
I placed my hand on my hip, thrusting my leg to the side. The short slip rose on my thighs, giving him a peek at what was underneath. Not that I didn’t love the attention, but I had things to do today.
Well, I probably had something to do. I wasn’t exactly in a rush to go anywhere. I had a charity gala I needed to attend tomorrow night, but other than that, my schedule was pretty much free for the rest of the day.
Brock quickly pushed his way inside, then shut the door behind him. “Look, what happened earlier was…a mistake.”
“Was it?” I asked, trailing my finger along my collarbone. I watched in fascination as his eyes zeroed in on the movement.
“Um…Yes.”
I took a step toward him, placing my hand on his chest, surprised by how strong and sturdy he felt. I’d never really cared about that before, but Brock was made for manual labor. It was a new thing for me to actually be turned on by this aspect. I’d always viewed men as a means to an end. I liked them to have pretty faces, but other than that, their bank accounts were more important.
Since Brock wasn’t filling any roles in my life aside from bodyguard, I suddenly came to appreciate other things about the male form. Things that other women constantly looked for. Like his muscular chest, or the way his biceps stretched his sleeves. I had never considered that as something sexy, but right now, as I studied the tattoos peeking out from underneath, I found it highly…arousing.
“So…you needed something?”
“To apologize,” he repeated. “What happened should never and will never happen again.”
“Isn’t that a pity,” I said softly. “I was just thinking about how the two of us could have an equally beneficial relationship.”
“That wouldn’t be appropriate.”
“In what way?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “Are you, or are you not, supposed to be pretending to be my boyfriend?”
He swallowed hard again. “I are.”
“And in order to play that part well,” I said, stepping into his space, “wouldn’t it help if we were on more…intimate terms?”
Again, his throat worked as his breathing increased. “I…”
