“You know me well.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She presses her lips to mine once more.

  From there, I take over, already hard for her again. I’m so aroused by the idea of making love to Whitney when she’s wearing nothing but my engagement ring, I can’t wait to get inside her.

  Rolling her onto her back, I follow her to the mattress, fasten my mouth over hers, then ease inside her swollen, sweltering pussy with a groan.

  Beneath me, she gasps and digs her nails into my shoulders. “Jett!”

  “Yes, princess. Want more?”

  “Yes. God, yes…” She wraps her legs around me. “But fair warning… I might need help with my job.”

  She wants to talk about work now? “If you need sex to do it right, I’m your man.”

  Whitney curls her arms around my neck and rocks with me. “I just might. But then I’ll need time off. Unless we start being safer, we’re going to have some babies.”

  Ah, she’s figured out the other part of my plan—and she seems blessedly happy with it. “I sure hope so. I want you pregnant now.”

  “Me, too.”

  After we share bodies, passion, and our love, we fall into a heap, arms around each other. I cup Whitney’s still-rosy cheek. “You happy?”

  “Since you’ve made my every dream come true? Yes, Sir.”

  Epilogue

  Sunshine Coast Bed-and-Breakfast, Maui

  A month later…

  * * *

  Whitney

  * * *

  Dreams really do come true! Jett has found nearly every moment of every day to prove that to me. He’s worshipped me. He’s kept every promise. And he’s made me fall even more in love with him.

  Finally—after a lot of rushed planning and tricky arrangements—we’re standing on the beach at the most beautiful bed-and-breakfast in Maui, just about to say “I do.”

  “Are you ready?” my brother asks, looking surprisingly dapper in a pale blue suit.

  “Beyond. Thanks for being here and walking me down the aisle.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. I just want you to be happy.” He kisses my temple and offers me his arm, then he escorts me toward the palms swaying gently in the sunset and my waiting groom.

  I’m about to burst with joy.

  For the last month, my brother has been a lot different—quiet and contemplative. He started seeing a therapist. He admitted he’s had a drinking problem since college. He started apologizing to me a lot for things he’s done over the years. And he’s doing his best to mend fences with Jett. My husband-to-be, bless him, has been receptive. Guarded, yes. That’s Jett, and Vance burned him horribly once. But they’re working it out. Jett reached out with an olive branch—and offered to let Vance stay on as head of development. My brother reciprocated by inviting Jett to join an upcoming fantasy football league. It’s progress. That’s all I can ask for now.

  The inn’s owner, Keeley Reed, sings me down the aisle with her lilting, melodic voice. The gentle music carries on the breeze as my bare feet pad over the white runner, flanked by tiki torches leading me under a trio of arches seemingly braided out of twigs and bright pink flowers. At the end, we stop under a tall white awning framed by soft, draped swaths of white gauze. In front of an altar adorned by a floral garland stands the officiant.

  And Jett, waiting for me.

  He looks so handsome in tan pants, a billowy white shirt, and a navy jacket. As I approach, his smile turns brilliant. He has eyes only for me. Which is perfect because my heart is only for him.

  Vance gives me away. Jett sticks out his hand. My heart threatens to turn over with love.

  My brother shakes it, then pulls my fiancé in for a bro hug. “There’s no one I trust more than you to make my sister happy.”

  There are a hundred caustic things Jett could say, but he doesn’t. “I love Whitney. I always have. Thank you for your blessing.”

  With a final nod, Vance makes his way to my side of the small crowd, consisting mostly of friends and a few cousins, and sits next to my mom. Jett’s side of the aisle is filled with his father and new stepmom, Iris. The woman’s daughter, Calla, recently married Jett’s older brother, Quint. They announced last night that they’re expecting a baby in the spring. His sister Ivy came with her husband Derrick. The younger sister, Lacey, is a wild child. I don’t know if she’ll ever settle down. It will take quite a man to tame her.

  “Dearly beloved…” the officiant begins the ceremony.

  My heart takes flight while Jett and I look into each other’s eyes. The sun dips down the vivid, cloudless sky toward the horizon as we commit our lives together. Then Jett slips a wedding band on my finger, and I slide one on his. We seal our bond with a lingering kiss.

  Finally, we’re man and wife.

  “Are you happy, Mrs. Dean?” my husband asks as we make our way down the aisle, toward our reception. He’s all smiles.

  If he’s happy now, just wait. I’m going to give him the best wedding present ever.

  I send him a glance so full of love and joy. I never imagined my life could be so sweet. “I am. How about you…Daddy?”

  As we reach the threshold to the inn, he stops in his tracks and searches my face. “Are you saying…”

  “I’m pregnant. I found out this morning.”

  He embraces me with a hearty laugh. “Well, that’s one thing I can cross off my honeymoon honey-do list.”

  “You were making it your mission to knock me up?”

  “Hell yeah.” He kisses me. “I’ve missed out on eight years of being with you. I need to accelerate the timetable to start this family. Besides, you’re going to be hot all round and pregnant.”

  I beam a smile at him. “You always seem to think I’m hot.”

  “Because you are. But it’s more. You’re smart. You’re funny and understanding. And you’re my other half. I love you, princess.”

  “If you had told me that afternoon you summoned me to the hotel bar that we’d wind up deliriously in love, married, and pregnant within a month, I would have called you crazy.”

  “I’m sure. But I arranged everything because I hoped all those things would happen.” He swallows. “I would have done anything to be with you.”

  “I know.” I cup his beloved face. “So instead of calling you my enemy that day, I guess I should have called you a genius.”

  “Oh, I like that,” he kids. “A visionary genius, even. Maybe add brilliant to that, too.”

  I laugh. “Now you’re laying it on thick. I don’t need to inflate your ego any more.”

  He leans in for a long, slow kiss. “It’s not my ego you’re inflating, wife.”

  When he rocks into me, I giggle. “I can tell.”

  My husband takes my hand and leads me inside, facing me in all sincerity. “Can I do anything to make you happier? Nothing is more important to me.”

  When Jett looks at me like he could blissfully stare at me forever as he brushes a gentle thumb over my lower lip, I melt. “Why?”

  “You’ve made me ecstatic every day since you came back into my life. I’m going to make you happy for the next seventy years.”

  “That’s a deal I can get behind. I love you, too.”

  Then we seal our forever with a kiss.

  Hungry for another sexy, tempting Forbidden Confession?

  * * *

  Meet brash, dangerous Rand Garrison, personal protection specialist. He should never fall for his off-limits client. But when the bullets go flying, he can’t stop himself from falling for sweetly sexy pop-star princess, Sophie.

  * * *

  SEDUCED BY THE BODYGUARD

  Forbidden Confessions: Protectors, Book 1

  by Shayla Black

  (available in eBook, print, and audio)

  What will he demand in exchange for keeping her safe?

  I’m Sophie, pop-star princess.

  My career is on a superstar trajectory.

  Until the bullets start flying.

  The bodyguard I hired to protect me drags me to safety.

  But now I’m trapped alone with a man I barely know.

  One who lights my body on fire.

  But someone wants me dead.

  Rand can save me from evil.

  But his protection comes at a price…

  EXCERPT

  “Run!” I pick up speed and yank on her wrist.

  She stumbles in those ridiculous shoes. “Wait!”

  No time for that. I wrap my arm around her waist, lift her against my side, and haul ass for safety. Another bullet whizzes by, where Sophie stood just moments ago.

  Then we’re around the corner. We’re safe—for now. We can’t stay long, but we can regroup and strategize for a minute or two. Hopefully, it’s enough.

  I press my back to the wall, panting, and lower her to her feet in front of me before flipping our positions and blocking her from any other possible threat.

  “You okay?”

  More screaming fills the streets. Sirens roar close to the scene. She presses a hand to her chest, struggling to catch her breath. “I-I’m not hurt.”

  She doesn’t try to claim that she isn’t terrified out of her mind. I know she is.

  “Are you familiar with this area?”

  “Not really. I’m from DFW, but never spent much time in Arlington.”

  Damn. I’m not familiar with this chunk of the city, either.

  We’ve got to get out of this alley—and this fucking vicinity—fast. Then we need a safe location without anyone knowing where Sophie is hiding. Only then can I figure out who wants her dead and why.

  I scan our surroundings and come up with an idea. “Take off your dress.”

  “What?” There’s a whole lot of hell no crossing her face.

  She probably thinks I’m propositioning her. To be honest, in a less dangerous situation, if she was willing, I’d be more than game. Sophie may have been a pretty girl who burst on the music scene when she was still in pigtails, but she’s a hella beautiful woman now. I certainly wouldn’t turn her down. But that’s not why I’m asking her to disrobe.

  “Your red spangly dress is a bright, shiny target to this shooter.”

  “Oh.” She frowns. “But I can’t run around naked.”

  As much as I might like the view, she’s right. Everyone has a camera on their cell phones these days, and she doesn’t need that kind of exposure. Hell, we’re lucky that everyone is too busy running for their lives to notice us tucked into this narrow alley.

  I yank my T-shirt from my waistband and tug it over my head, leaving my torso covered in a thin wifebeater. The T-shirt is damp with my sweat and it smells like me, but that’s all I’ve got to give her. “Put this on.”

  Sophie takes the shirt from my hand, her gaze glued to mine. “Where am I supposed to change?”

  But she knows the answer; I see it on her face.

  “I’ll block you.” After all, she’s tiny. I’m pretty big. We’ll make it work. “But we don’t have time for modesty.”

  She hesitates an instant, then drops one strap of her low, scoop-necked dress down her arm, followed by the other. As she does, one thing becomes obvious: Sophie Larsen isn’t wearing a bra.

  I start to sweat again, and this time it has nothing to do with heat or danger.

  Holy shit.

  ABOUT WATCH ME

  * * *

  To achieve her dreams, all she has to do is seduce the enemy…

  * * *

  Shanna York was set to achieve her glittering ballroom dreams and become a dance champion—until her dance partner gets tangled up in scandal and blackmail. With the clock ticking and all her ambitions at stake, the last thing she needs is the gorgeous owner of a sex club tempting her with the forbidden. Or maybe that’s the very thing she needs…

  * * *

  Alejandro Diaz has sizzled for Shanna since he set eyes on her months ago. Her repeated rebuffs will make her surrender that much sweeter. She’s ambitious and driven…but so is he. When she asks for his assistance to ensnare a voyeuristic blackmailer with a video fetish, he doesn’t hesitate to help her stage a bedroom trap. But neither is prepared to face scorching, endless passion, the blackmailer’s real identity—or the undeniable love that grows between them.

  1

  Who’d known it would only take two minutes, seventeen seconds to ruin her life?

  Shanna York ejected the flash drive from her laptop, resisting the pointless urge to fling it across the room. Instead, she set it gently on the table beside her and stood.

  Damn Kristoff! What had he been thinking?

  Besides looking for inventive ways to get off, absolutely nothing. That was obvious.

  Any hope of the life she’d worked and sweated for was over. Goodbye, California Dance Star competition, which she and Kristoff were favored to win in eight days. Adios, any chance of making World Cup Latin finals—something she’d been striving for her entire dance career.

  Kristoff knew how important this season was to her. Knew it. She was twenty-eight—old by ballroom standards. He was the best partner she’d ever had, which was saying something. This year was their year; everyone said so.

  All it had taken was one piece of footage recorded just last week—according to the date in the lower right corner of the screen—and a note with a scrawled Watch Me to shatter her dreams.

  Sighing, Shanna closed her eyes and tried to think. But that only focused the drive’s every image into full Technicolor in her memory. Kristoff, tall and ungodly handsome, standing above two figures, one male, the other female. He cradled each of their heads in his hands as they knelt before him. Their tongues slid up and down his erection, licked over his balls, and occasionally met at the head of his cock for a juicy kiss.

  “You like that big dick?” he asked. They both moaned. The camera zoomed in as the woman, a stunning blonde with a starburst tattoo on her breast, deep-throated Kristoff.

  The other male, a buff guy with military short hair and his own raging hard-on, stood and licked at Kristoff’s nipples. Kristoff groaned, the sound soon drowned out by the man capturing his lips and devouring them in a harsh kiss.

  That was the first thirty seconds—plenty depraved by the deeply traditional standards many ballroom judges held. Then came the middle of the clip…

  Kristoff, intent and focused as he penetrated the woman’s sex, plunging in for slow, agonizing strokes. A surprise, given the fact Shanna had always believed he was strictly gay. But thrusting into the woman, he appeared like any other hetero man…until the camera panned back and showed the other man penetrating Kristoff’s ass, the forward momentum of that stroke pushing Kristoff’s erection into the panting female.

  The end of the video, however, was what Shanna feared could really kill her dreams of being a ballroom champion. The other man, apparently at the end of his restraint, tore off his condom and stood near the woman’s sex as Kristoff so diligently pounded it. The man with dark hair watched them, yanking on his cock until semen shot out, coating the woman’s clit and wet folds. They all groaned.

  Kristoff quickly pulled out of her, tugged on his erection, and came on the woman’s swollen sex, too. She dripped semen, oozed with the fluids of the men’s satisfaction. Was that enough for Kristoff? Of course not.

  He grabbed the other man’s shoulders and forced him to kneel before the woman’s dripping sex beside him. Together, they licked her. Clean. Deep. Until she orgasmed against their dueling tongues. During the clip’s final moments, the camera panned back again to reveal that the trio had performed the entire scene for a rapt audience.

  Shanna put her head in her hands and groaned. She was so screwed. If the conservative judges of ever-elegant ballroom dance got hold of this footage… The thought of what they could—and would—do to hers and Kristoff’s scores at the California Dance Star made her shudder. Nothing like going from first to worst in the standings.

  Equally unnerving, watching the scene had more than vaguely aroused Shanna. Not that she was attracted to Kristoff—and definitely not after the position he’d put her in with this stunt. But the freedom to just let loose and fulfill her fantasies, particularly with people watching, flipped her switch way more than it should.

  That had to stop. She must deal with the situation, somehow ensure this video didn’t fall into the judges’ hands. She must not think about her neglected libido.

  Where was Kristoff, damn it? He had to have known that his recent jaunts to that damn sex club, Sneak Peek, would eventually come back to haunt them. She’d warned him. Clearly, he hadn’t heeded a word.

  The door of her small dressing room burst open. Kristoff glided in. The graceful bastard moved like glass, especially on the dance floor, which was a treat after living with her father and three brothers: an Olympic sprinter, a world-class decathlete, a former champion weightlifter, and a pro football player, respectively.

  They all considered her a failure because she’d never been a champion. By their definition, ballroom dancing wasn’t even a sport. Which made her a double loser.

  This year, she’d intended to show them different.

  With Kristoff’s night at that crazy sex club for exhibitionists and voyeurs, her dreams were gone.

  “Three minutes, Shan. Are you ready?” Kristoff held out his hand to her.

  Normally, that was Shanna’s cue to take it and follow his lead. Not tonight.

  “To kill you, yes!” She held up the flash drive. “Obviously, your brain sunk into your pants. Could you not have waited to get your jollies for another few weeks?”

  He frowned, looking totally unamused. “What do you talk of?”