Free The Trouble With Bodyguards: Part 1 by Kristina Blake

strong. She was so close, he felt that he could practically reach out and touch her if he wanted. Throwing his hands up over his eyes, he ground his palms into his eye sockets until his vision went white from the pressure. Crying out with frustration, he stood up, pacing the room, the need to move too strong.
                  He had to go to her. Had to have her. Had to take her.
                  No, not yet. It wasn't time yet. He needed to calm himself, needed to wait.
                  He sat back down on the bed, his foot hammering against the floor boards. He looked to her face, hundreds of her face, everywhere that he turned, and breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Chapter 13
                  The sun was streaming through the filmy bedroom curtains when Alex opened her eyes. She groaned. Having been up late last night working, her body was heavy as she rolled over in the bed, pulling the pillow over her face to block out the horrid light. Fighting to regain the dream she had been having, something about a gorgeous man with arms the size of tree trunks, she closed her eyes and tried to will herself back to sleep. Her bladder was having none of it, screaming its urge to get the hell out of bed and get around to starting her day, its tasks to be taken care of first.
                  She crawled out from under the covers, stomping in her bare feet out into the living room, headed for the toilet. Instinctually, she sat down, relieving herself, still half asleep, her eyes closed. Something was niggling at her subconscious, something important that she was supposed to remember. Something had changed.
                  Alex opened her eyes and noticed the back of a man’s black t-shirt in her kitchen, standing in front of the sink, and she screamed.
                  Rick spun around, ripping his gun from the holster on his waist, holding it at arm’s length, ready to rescue his charge from her attacker. He quickly scanned the room, seeing nothing, and turned his eyes to where he had heard her scream. She stood in the bathroom, frantically attempting to pull her panties up over her knees while still maintaining some sense of decency. Her hair was disheveled, hanging in a giant snarl down her back, and the thin white tank top that she wore didn’t do the job of covering her breasts. He could see right through it.
                  “Why are you screaming?” he said, putting his gun back in the holster. He calmed his breathing, the adrenaline racing through his blood making his heart pound in his chest.
                  “You’re in my kitchen,” she said, “and I was peeing!”
                  “Perhaps you should close the door,” he said, laughing, “if you’re so modest.”
                  “This,” she yelled, stomping through the room half naked, “is so not going to work!” She stood in the doorway to her room, hands on her hips, and turned to him. “I cannot deal with you living in my house.”
                  “Take it up with your dear old daddy then,” he said, “because until he tells me otherwise, I’m right here to stay.” He glanced down at her body, barely covered by the flimsy tank and cotton panties, and grinned. “And I suggest that if you want to have a serious conversation about this, that you put on a robe. There is no way I can take you seriously like that.”
                  Alex followed his gaze, looking down at herself. Her breasts were heavy, full, the nipples fully visible through the fabric of her tank top. She gasped, crossing her arms over her chest, and stormed into her room, kicking the door shut behind her.
                  “Fuck!” she yelled, throwing herself back into her bed, pulling the pillow over her face. She could feel her cheeks flushing from embarrassment. A few days ago she would have been overjoyed to have a