Sex With My Bodyguard
An accident grabbed my parents' lives, I had nobody but my bodyguard David who is 10 years elder.I always tries to seduce him, while get rejected.But his bonds finally was broken after one night when he was drank, which made me had the orgasm of my life.
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Chapter 1
In the past, I have always tried to do what's right. I was my parents' favorite child, their perfect little angel who would do everything to make them smile. The model student who never broke the rules in terms of homework completion or curfew observance.
Why would I want to start a fight? I had the ideal life, after all. Your dream home, complete with acreage to roam and a great climbing tree in the front yard, is waiting for you on this quiet, secluded neighborhood. They were the ideal parents: rigorous yet affectionate, and never, ever at odds with one another. The ideal circle of private school mates since kindergarten. Even the ideal male companion, who is kind, thoughtful, and courteous at all times.
Once I turned sixteen, everything changed.
A wet night. The arc was excessively steep. Front glass illuminated by blinding headlights.
After the vehicle accident that took the lives of my parents, I felt as if I awoke in a different universe. Where the opposites are true. What I fear most is a future without my family and friends. Exactly where I have zero resources.
Aside from David
A few days after the accident, he turned up. My parents made a stranger, an old army comrade of my dad's, my legal guardian, and I have no idea why. Perhaps they were caught completely off guard. In most cases, no.
I don't recall anything from that period since I was completely numb. Just that David paid little attention to me while he was preoccupied with the interminable arrangements for my parents' wakes and burial and, god, I don't even know. The fact that he was attractive enough to spark a thousand daydreams. Amidst my mourning and while shivering with a cold that has persisted to this day, I was nevertheless able to see it.
David sent me off to boarding school the day after my parents' deaths and has ignored me ever since.
Except when I get into trouble.
It was four years after that dreadful birthday that I finally found out how to catch his attention. A buddy of mine came up with the fantastic idea of taking a jet to Madeli for a long weekend of drinking and partying. Help me shake the specters associated with my birthday and move on. I was just eighteen and it was time for me to let go. Fun. The idea was ridiculous then, and it's still ridiculous today.
Have some fun if you have parents. People with enormous holes in their chests where love once resided aren't the ones who get to have all the fun.
I was bored out of my mind, so I made an effort to enjoy myself. It's far too entertaining. Too much booze. Too much sun. Overly many attractive Spanish guys with too friendly hands.
Okay, so I had emotions.
David came out of nowhere, all grim reaper-like, and took the man who was kissing his way up my stomach while I did body shots in a string bikini. Taking off his collared shirt, he stuffed my obnoxious, inebriated body into it and drove me back to school.
At that time, I had persuaded myself that he was not really so attractive, and that the whole thing had been a fabrication of my traumatized 16-year-old brain in response to the biggest tragedy of her life. My naiveté. That he was as attractive as I recalled, and even colder, was no surprise.
As a result, on my twentieth birthday, I did it once again. This is obviously a frat party, thus there will be costumes. My then-boyfriend had requested that I dress as skimpily as possible in a schoolgirl outfit. David frightened the guy so much that he nearly peed his pants, and then he drove me home in a safe manner. Again.
A custom was established. I gave up on trying to get an explanation from him about why he kept showing up. The one night of the year when he showed up unexpectedly became a kind of guidepost for me. Even if everything else in my life was falling apart, at least David would be there to make sure I didn't kill myself with alcohol on the one night of the year I hate myself the most.
So, when are we not talking about this?
Basically, I'm a pampered brat from a wealthy family. Inappropriately large sums of cash. One has an excessive number of phony pals. Way too many dudes are interested in me just for my physique, only to quickly lose interest once they see that I have flaws.
It's time for me to mature and tame my wild side. It's time to quit pining away for a guy who exists only as a ghost one night a year. I'll never really escape the night my parents died. What you've been through is etched into your very being. But it doesn't mean I have to wrap myself in the shackles of sadness and let it draw me down. No more.
I've been promising my therapist that I won't cut myself every year on my birthday to make sure I still bleed.
I'll do all the proper things afterwards.
This evening, though... It's my twenty-fifth birthday, and it starts at midnight. Nine years ago today, I lost my parents and was adopted. Those are certainly lucky numbers, and nobody can argue with me about that. The event will be one for the history books, I promise you that much. It was the best birthday I've ever had. One last attempt to find some kind of resolution.
After all, I am an old man now. For quite some time, that is.
It's no longer necessary for David to play the role of my rescuer. I'm not interested in it.
That which I really want is off-limits. For the last nine years, I've been an orphan, everything has gone wrong. In the nine years he's been my absentee guardian.
For one night only, I must have David. How else can I finally let go of the past? I can't be the only one who's noticed a sudden release of tension in the few times we've been together recently. I can't be the only one who's entertained steamy dreams about what we'd do if he ever lost control, can I?
I intend to find out tonight.
Smiling, I run a hand down the length of my dress. I have given a lot of thought to where to have this birthday party. Unlike when I turned twenty, this is neither a rave, crazy club, or especially intense home party. This birthday celebration has been the most reverent of my life.
The hotel bar is packed at such an early hour, and the clientele has bank balances that make my trust fund seem like chump cash. David will get more than raised eyebrows if he attempts to forcibly remove me from the premises.
That is, if he shows up at all.
A glass of scotch is placed in front of me, and I turn around on my barstool to get it. As I swirl it around in my glass, I can smell the pricey peat and admire its gorgeous color. Scotch is not a beverage I regularly partake in. There are too many memories, and even the pleasant ones are like a knife: a brief, euphoric respite followed by a searing agony. Indeed, even at this late hour.
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9.2
In LA's Business world, Zane Calloway, thirty, turns cartel king after his father's gruesome murder, ruling The Atlas Group with a bloody fist. He learned how betrayal could ruin even the biggest empire and was hell bent on keeping Atlas Group. However when Sienna Carter, his new assistant got in the picture, he threw caution to the wind. To become the only one controlling the cartel, he would use Sienna who was a supposedly ghost from a dead cartel as bait for his enemies. Sienna Carter made his mission become even more complicated as she ignites a dangerous sparks in him. Twenty-five year old Sienna Carter just wanted to stay alive, running away from danger had been the only thing she was capable of since her family were murdered. All she had as a semblance of her old life was the locket her dying father had given her and when a new job pops up in Los Angeles, she gambled for it, hoping for her sake that it wouldn't lead her straight to the same hell she was running from.
However, she would soon realize that the Atlas Groups was going to be more than just a survival decision but the key to everything.
8.5
At 3:12 AM, a call from the NYPD shattered the silence of my dorm. My childhood sweetheart and the city’s golden heir, Liam Sterling, was in custody and needed me to bail him out.
I rushed to the precinct, trembling as I swiped my father’s emergency credit card for five thousand dollars, only to watch Liam walk out and head straight for another woman. He had landed in a cell because he’d started a brawl to protect Jade—a girl with pink hair and a jagged attitude—while I was just the "best friend" he called to clean up his mess.
In the backseat of the cab I paid for, I watched the man I loved pull her into his lap, treating me like an invisible chauffeur. When I finally demanded the truth, he didn't apologize; he reminded me that our families were tied by a multi-million dollar merger and that I was "like a sister" to him. My own mother echoed his coldness, telling me to stop being dramatic because our family was secretly bankrupt and we needed the Sterling money to survive.
I spent years being his "good girl," even recording a fake video for the press claiming he was a hero who fought to defend my honor. But the illusion shattered when I saw the photos of him with Jade on my birthday—the same night he told me he was working late to secure our future.
"I love you, Zoe. Like I love my dog. You’re loyal, but you’re boring."
I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was his shield. He used the trauma of the day he "saved" my life to keep me in his debt, never realizing that the chains of gratitude had finally snapped.
As the Sterling empire began to crumble under a sudden leak of scandals, I didn't run back to Liam. Instead, I looked at the encrypted message from his dangerous, outcast brother, Julian, who had been waiting in the shadows. He didn't just offer me a way out; he offered to buy my family's debt and claim me as the collateral.
7.0
My marriage ended at a charity gala I organized. One moment, I was the pregnant, happy wife of tech mogul Gabe Sullivan; the next, a reporter' s phone screen announced to the world that he and his childhood sweetheart, Harper, were expecting a child.
Across the room, I saw them together, his hand resting on her stomach. This wasn't just an affair; it was a public declaration that erased me and our unborn baby.
To protect his company's billion-dollar IPO, Gabe, his mother, and even my own adoptive parents conspired against me. They moved Harper into our home, into my bed, treating her like royalty while I became a prisoner.
They painted me as unstable, a threat to the family's image. They accused me of cheating and claimed my child wasn't his.
The final command was unthinkable: terminate my pregnancy. They locked me in a room and scheduled the procedure, promising to drag me there if I refused.
But they made a mistake. They gave me back my phone to keep me quiet. Feigning surrender, I made one last, desperate call to a number I had kept hidden for years-a number belonging to my biological father, Antony Dean, the head of a family so powerful, they could make my husband's world burn.
8.9
At twenty-three, Skyle lives a life she never chose. Abused by her cruel stepmother and stepsister, Ava, and completely ignored by the man who should protect her,her father.Skyle exists as nothing more than a shadow in her own home. To him, Ava is his only daughter.
Skyle's shattered world takes a dangerous turn when she is forced to marry Alexander Blackwood, a cold, powerful CEO, in Ava's place. Rumored to be gay and feared in business circles, Alexander is a man no woman wants,especially not Ava, who refuses the marriage meant to secure her family's fortune. Desperate, her mother pushes Skyle into the role of the bride.
Life in Alexander's mansion is no fairy tale. Skyle is treated like a servant, stripped of dignity, and pushed to the edge of despair. But fate changes everything the night Alexander, drowning in anger after losing a billion-dollar contract, comes home drunk.
One reckless night binds them forever.
Pregnant and trapped in a marriage built on lies, Skyle must face a man who never wanted her,and a future she never imagined.
Will Alexander open his heart for the sake of the unborn child, or will Skyle and her baby be discarded like everything else in her life?
Read to find out.!!!
8.4
For five years, I was Brogan Walton’s shadow—a contract companion kept behind closed doors, hidden away because of a cruel, fabricated rumor about my genetic health. I lived for the moments he looked my way, even if those moments were cold and transactional.
Everything shattered when he returned from London early, tossed a legal document onto the table, and coldly announced the termination of our contract. He didn't just want me gone; he wanted me erased, offering a severance package to ensure I never spoke of the life I’d traded for his protection.
As I signed the papers, my chest burned with the familiar, suffocating agony of my failing heart. I watched him check his watch, his impatience a blade in my back. When the door slammed shut, I finally collapsed, clutching the pill bottle that was my only lifeline, realizing I was dying—and he didn't care.
I wasn't a lover or even a person to him. The next day, I saw her—Kori Barnett, the new CEO, the woman Brogan actually loved. She looked identical to me, down to the curve of her smile. I was never a Cinderella; I was just a cheap, disposable stand-in he’d groomed to be a mirror for his true obsession.
Broken and discarded, I walked into the office, dropped my badge on the desk, and finally walked away. But as I stepped onto the street, I realized the nightmare wasn't over. A predator from his past was waiting for me, and when I looked at Brogan for help, he simply rolled up his window and drove away. I realized then that I had nothing left to lose. I took a deep breath, gripped the knife in my pocket, and decided that if I was going to die, I wouldn't go down as his victim.
7.6
She was always the shadow. He was always chasing the light.
Lavinia Hartwell had learned early that love was rarely for girls like her. She was the quiet one, the overlooked one-always second to her luminous best friend, Verity Langford. Even Henry Wynthorne, the boy whose compassion had unexpectedly caught her heart in high school, only had eyes for Verity.
But years change people.
Henry's dreams of studying abroad collapsed with his father's death. Verity left. Success became his only compass, and alcohol his only escape. And somehow, in the wreckage, there was Lavinia-never demanding, never judging, quietly holding him together in ways he never noticed... until she was gone.
When an arranged engagement threatened to give her to him, Henry assumed she was being forced into it and set her free. Lavinia smiled, thanked him-and walked away, taking with her the steady presence he had taken for granted.
Only then did Henry begin to notice the ache. The way her absence unsettled him. The way another man's hand on her waist ignited a heat that was not anger, but something darker, sharper, and dangerously possessive.
A single night blurred the lines forever-her lips on his, soft at first, then desperate, as though she'd loved him all her life. Desire flared, undeniable. But in the morning, she was gone again.
Now, with Verity back and the past colliding with the present, Henry must face the truth: he no longer loves the woman he once chased. But has he realized too late who truly held his heart all along?
Slow-burn, sensual, and laced with aching restraint, this is a story of unspoken devotion, of a man's reluctant fall, and of the quiet girl who was never anyone's first choice-until she became the only choice.