Page 26 of The Bodyguard

“They’re not suspects, Mitch. They’re people I trust. People who’ve had my back from day one.”

“Then the innocent ones have nothing to worry about.”

Andi tore open the wrapper and bit off a chunk, chewing as she studied him.

“This… everything you’re doing,” she said slowly, “you do it because you’re a protector. Because you’re trained to think ten steps ahead, to see threats before they happen.”

He didn’t argue.

“But it’s not just that, is it?”

“No,” he said plainly.

She swallowed and looked away. “You enjoy it.”

“I already told you I do.”

“I don’t understand that,” she admitted, walking to the windows and staring down at the quiet street below. “Wanting that much control. Needing it.”

“You do,” he said from behind her. “You just don’t want to admit it.”

Her breath hitched. Not at his words, but at how easily they cut through her defenses. She stared out over the skyline, arms wrapped around her middle, pressing into the chenille robe like it could hold her together.

“I can’t afford it,” she said softly. “Not in my life. Not in my career. Not in a city where every decision I make gets dissected by a thousand strangers looking for a reason to call me weak.”

He was closer now. She could feel him. Not touching. Just there.

“You’re not weak,” he said. “You’re wired for control. But needing to let go sometimes doesn’t make you any less powerful. It makes you human.”

“What about you? Don’t you need to let go?”

Mitch nodded. “I do. Where I believe you could find respite in submission to the right partner, I find mine in dominance. So much of my life is reacting to out-of-control situations. With D/s, I have complete control. With the right partner, there is a yin/yang to the relationship that works for both of them equally.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Her voice cracked. “Even if I wanted that… even if I wanted you that way, there’s no room for it. Not with everything coming at me.”

“You want me that way?” he asked, voice low.

Andi turned slowly to face him. The air between them hummed with all kinds of tension—danger and sexual just to name two—thick, potent and filled with everything neither of them wanted to admit, much less say.

“You know I do,” she whispered. “And that’s the part that scares the hell out of me.”

His gaze locked on hers. “Then say it.”

“No.”

“Say it anyway.”

She glared at him. “You don’t get to order me around like?—”

“Like what?” he challenged, stepping in so close she could barely breathe. “Like someone who knows exactly what you need?”

She didn’t back down. “Like someone I can’t afford to want.”

His mouth was a breath from hers. “But you do.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, resisting the urge to either punch him or pull him closer. Maybe both.

“I can’t be that girl,” she said. “The one who gives in to something she can’t control.”

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