For Her Protection - PROMO Blitz
By Amber A Bardan
Date Published: May 30, 2014
You shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.
Yet pleasure seems to be the one and only thing on Charlize’s mind the moment Connor steamrolls into her life. Desperate to save her family company, prove she’s more than a pretty face and worthy of being CEO, pleasure is a distraction she can’t afford.
She doesn’t want a bodyguard, especially not one whose caveman heroics kick her libido into hyperdrive. But surrounded by enemies and an attacker on the loose, there’s only one man she can trust with her life.
Connor knows better than to get personal with clients. Yet there couldn’t be anything more personal about his feelings for Charlize. From the moment he clapped eyes on her he wanted nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and really give her something to scream about. He’ll get his uptight she-cat to unwind, preferably one orgasm at a time.
With Connor in her office, her home, driving her to sweet, merciless distraction, there’s only so long Charlize can resist his sexy, dominant brand of protection
They made use of her mostly empty living room for training, standing barefoot in the middle of the room. Charlize glanced at the hardwood floor.
“Wouldn’t this be safer on the rug?”
“We won’t be doing throws today,” he said and circled her, walked around her three times.
She refused to turn her head and follow him.
“Here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to show you a dozen simple techniques. At the end I’m going to test you.”
She frowned. “Like a quiz?”
“No, like a challenge. We see what you’ve remembered. Get you to think on your feet, force you to think quickly and react fast.” He stopped in front of her. “If you pass the challenge, you win—and trust me, you want to win.”
Charlize folded her arms and tried not to look as if she caught the suggestion in his tone. “We’ve played this game before. If you want to prove you’re bigger, stronger and better at this Karate crap than I am, then I concede—you’re better.”
He grinned a devilish smile that reminded her just how quickly he could make her heart race. “This is a new game. All you have to do is prove you were paying attention. It’s not a contest, it’s a challenge—and the stakes are higher.”
She uncrossed her arms. “How high?”
“At the end of this I’m going to fuck you.” He slinked closer in his prowling-panther way of moving. “How I do that is up to you. Either you get to fight me off, put up your best resistance, or I own you and you do exactly as I say. If you win, you get to choose how it happens.”
Charlize took a breath then reminded herself to breathe out. Told her hands not to shake at her sides.
“But if you fail, I’ll take you how I want.”
How he wants? Her body rushed with adrenaline. Part of her wanted to lose just to see which option turned him on. She wanted him rough. As impolite as that might be, as much as it fell outside what she’d done before, she acknowledged the desire—but this was different. This was saying it out loud. This was conscious choice, deliberate. This was agreeing to some kind of kinky role-play. None of which she could bring herself to accept.
“How the fuck is there a win for me in that?”
He closed the distance, made her look up at him, made her breathe in the scent of his clean body. “Because it’s what you want, kitten. But you’ve got to admit it.”
Her tongue fumbled in her mouth, which had apparently found new saliva glands. The idea of fighting him off sounded hot all right, but she couldn’t do that. Not with memories of the parking lot so raw.
But if he wanted to challenge her, then he could be challenged too. With something equally as hot. “Instead of the fighting, the other option is you do as I say.”
“You want to bargain for that? Sounds less fun to me.” He stepped back and positioned himself two feet in front of her. “Let’s get started.” He ran her through exercise after exercise. Showed her the vulnerable places on the body to target, how to sneak a hit to the throat before an attacker saw it coming. How to break every kind of hold, but more importantly he showed her how to look around. How to stop the world from closing in and see the things around her, things she could use to protect herself.
Her muscles ached by the end but she knew she had this.
“You been paying attention, kitten?” Connor asked.
“Does it look as if I’ve fallen asleep?”
He grasped her wrists. “You mean like you did last night? You’re going to pay for that you know. I’m still aching.”
“Only if I fail,” she whispered and twisted her arms free. “So was that score one for me?”
He chuckled and laugh lines dimpled his cheeks. “Sure. Are you ready for the next one?”
She nodded and stepped from foot to foot. He had her ducking, twisting and even landing a hit to his “vulnerable” place. Not that he reacted—the bastard. She was ready to savor the sweetness of victory when he caught her from behind, twisted his fist in her hair.
Breath evaporated from her chest. Fear streaked through her limbs. The imagined smell of tobacco tingled in her nose.
“Breathe, baby,” he whispered and air rushed back into her lungs.
Charlize slammed her heel into his foot, her elbow into his stomach and twisted—breaking the grip on her hair. She dropped to the floor and rolled out of reach.
Connor pursued with his slow, confident swagger. “Congratulations, you did well. So what is it, baby? Am I yours to command?” He tucked up the legs of his sweatpants and crouched in front of her. “Or are you mine?”
About the Author: Amber A Bardan
After spending years imagining fictional adventures, Amber finally found a way to turn daydreaming into a productive habit. She now spends her days as a graphic designer but her nights writing gritty, raw, erotic romance with heart.
She lives with her husband and children in semi-rural Australia, where if she peers outside at the right moment she might just see a kangaroo bounce by.
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