Page 74 of The Bodyguard

Finally, he tore his gaze from the ocean and studied her. “You’re empathetic.”

She snorted. “I wouldn’t call it that. I’ve been trying to tell Ibrahim I have Stockholm syndrome.”

Sawyer’s deep frown broke, and he chuckled. “What’s Ibrahim say to that?”

She laughed with him. “That I’m wrong.”

His laughter faded with a resigned head shake. “You’re something, that’s the truth.” He hooked his arm over her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “There are many ways that your time with Pham could have left you. Empathetic is onehell of a way to be, all things considered.” He pulled her toward his chest. “You’re better than most.” His chin rested against her hair. “Better than me. That’s for damn sure.”

Sawyer lay on his back and pulled her on top of him. She squeaked. His unguarded smile returned.

“Am I squishing you?”

His hands drummed on her bottom. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

Angela kissed him. Her dark hair fell, hiding their faces from the world. Lazily, his hands roamed her back. She liked being on top of him, how he made her feel petite when she was anything but. Angela teased his lips with hers. She nibbled and played with the sexiest man to walk the earth—and he liked it. His erection thickened beneath her. Sawyer’s searching hands slipped under her shirt to smooth his palms over her skin.

She slipped her tongue into his mouth and explored what made him groan and tighten his fingers on her sides.

Sawyer moved a hand to the back of her neck. His fingers threaded into her loose hair, holding her against him and driving her mad.

“It’s time for you to take me inside,” she murmured against his lips.

“Anything you want.” He lifted her to her feet and rolled to his. Not bothering to brush the sand off his back, he took her hand in his and retraced the path to their deck.

At the door, he pulled his shirt off over his head and shook the garment out.

Angela leaned against the siding. “Your shorts are pretty sandy too.”

His eyebrows arched, and with a devilish grin, Sawyer dropped his shorts down and kicked them to the side, standing in front of her in boxer briefs to display his lean, hard-muscled body. Heat flared in every part of her.

“What about you?” he asked.

She bit her bottom lip and moved closer.

He pulled her shirt over her head and tugged her shorts down. They piled at her feet. He inched back and drank her in. Her nipples beaded behind the lace bra. Moisture pooled between her legs.

“Goddamn, you’re gorgeous.” Sawyer shook his head as though he had to shake himself out of a trance. He opened the door and pulled her inside.

He headed straight for the bathroom, her hand in his. She wouldn’t have guessed him for a hand holder, but it seemed that this man never wanted her to walk anywhere without his hands on her. Once inside, he shut the bathroom door and turned on the water in the shower. Hunger flared in his expression when he focused his complete attention onto her.

Angela shivered. He was an intense, gorgeous man, tan and blond and muscled. His hair was just long enough to thread her fingers into. His body was hard, lean, cut, and could fulfill her every daydream. She didn’t know what to do with herself when he came toward her like he couldn’t live without her.

Steam swirled around them. Sawyer backed her to the wall. His nuzzling became a nipping kiss.

Electricity rushed in her blood. Her insides pulsed. His erection thickened between them. Angela scratched her fingernails down his back. She teased along the waist of his boxer briefs and then slid them over Sawyer’s muscular ass.

Every part of him was hard and hot. She didn’t want clothes between them.

Sawyer’s mouth met hers. He unfastened her bra and let it drop. His hands ran to her hips and toyed with her underwear. “These have to go.”

She agreed.

He slid them down until they dropped at her feet. His palms teased over her butt and squeezed while his mouth nuzzled her neck.

Angela’s breath raced. Her hands ran over the short, coarse smattering of hair on his chest. She explored the muscular cut of his pecs. His breaths were as erratic as hers. As her fingertips teased down his stomach and across the ridges of muscle, their breathing seesawed.

She ran her knuckles along his waist and cupped him through his boxer briefs, and he sucked in a deep, chest-expanding breath. She pulled the rigid heat of his shaft free and slid the last shred of their clothes away.

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