Page 48 of The Bodyguard

“Stand up,” he said.

She obeyed instantly, pushing up to her feet and letting her arms drop to her sides.

His voice dropped lower. “Take off the hoodie.”

Andi reached for the hem and pulled it up over her head, revealing the soft black camisole underneath. No bra. No pretense. Just skin and breath and the steady, rising thrum of something that felt bigger than want.

“Shorts too.”

She slipped them down her hips and stepped out of them. She was barefoot, bare-legged, standing in front of him in nothing but the thin cami and a pair of black lace panties she’d grabbed without thinking.

Mitch sat forward, elbows resting on his thighs, gaze steady and slow as it moved over her.

“Come closer.”

She took one step, then another, until she was between his knees. He didn’t reach for her. Just looked.

“Place your hands behind your back,” he commanded in a husky whisper.

Andi complied immediately; her body felt electrified, as if every nerve were strung tight like a live wire. The simple directive sent a shudder of anticipation rippling through her, her chest rising and falling in shallow, trembling gasps that betrayed her inner longing. She stood there, a portrait of delicate tension, suspended between wavering uncertainty and an inescapable desire, each moment steeped in the charged silence of the room.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice dripping with low, velvety assurance that seemed to caress her very soul.

With deliberate grace, his hand moved slowly, skimming the delicate curve of her hip while his thumb traced the intricate lace at her waistband. As if committing to memory every secret contour and hidden valley, he savored each minuscule detail with a reverent touch.

“I’m going to touch you now. Just here. Just to remind you who you belong to,” he declared softly, his tone imbued with authority and intimacy. “Both Cerberus and the club have strict rules for members. I had a complete physical and have a clean bill of health.”

She grinned. “Same, and I’m on birth control, so no condoms needed.”

He smiled and the simple nod she offered was all the affirmation he needed; her throat constricted as words failed her, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. With measured precision, his fingers slipped seductively under the lace, exploring the velvety softness of her lower belly before gliding towards the vulnerable apex of her thighs. Every touch he bestowed was slow, deliberate, and filled with a tender command—a caress that sent tremors surging through her body, nearly overwhelming her with the weight of exquisite sensation.

“Breathe,” he ordered, his voice a gentle command woven with intimacy and desire.

Surrendering wholly, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath, as if each inhalation pulled her closer into the realm of their shared passion.

“You’re doing well,” he said, his words a mix of praise and gentle command that ignited a warming flush within her. Overwhelmed by his compliment, her eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat, letting the tender heat of his words envelop her spirit.

“I want you on the bed,” Mitch commanded with careful insistence. “On your back. Arms at your sides. You don’t move unless I tell you to.”

In a trance-like state, Andi rose, each step toward the bed imbued with a heartbeat of fierce anticipation and burning desire. With measured, deliberate care, she lowered herself onto the soft expanse, every muscle taut with expectancy as she lay with her eyes fixed on the ceiling until he entered her view.

He knelt beside her, his touch tender yet assertive as his hand cradled her jaw, gently lifting her face toward his own. “You chose this,” he asserted, his eyes conveying depths of intensity and assurance.

A silent nod from her spoke volumes, a wordless confirmation heavy with shared meaning.

“Say it,” he urged softly.

“I chose this,” she whispered, her confession delicate and laced with a defiant yet vulnerable sincerity that trembled in the space between them.

Then he kissed her—first a soft, exploratory meeting of lips without force, a gentle claiming that spoke of reverence. Their mouths conversed in a deliberate dialogue of heat and desire, breath mingling intimately before he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding insistently into her hair and tugging ever so slightly to send another jolt of exhilaration through her quivering form.

Each of his kisses carried a commanding assurance; every touch and press was a deliberate act of possession, a silent declaration etched into her skin. Andi melted beneath his fervent kiss, surrendering entirely, her body arching in silent invitation as every tender stroke and heated caress spoke louder than words ever could.

As his kisses trailed tenderly down her neck, his teeth teasingly grazing her sensitive skin, she tilted her head in a wordless offer of more. Though her hands remained fixed exactly as he had instructed, every fiber of her being cried out to defy the restraint and explore, yet in her controlled surrender, she revealed the fierce power of offering herself completely.

When he finally slid the camisole away, liberating her skin to his admiring gaze, she did not flinch. His hands then moved with reverence to caress her breasts, his thumbs pushing her nipples into hard, pleading peaks that spoke of desire and promise. She bit her lip, caught in the exquisite thrall of his caresses, her every sense under his spell.

“Still,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me enjoy you.”

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