* * *

She was standing in the middle of the living room right where I’d left her when I came back. I guess there was no more running from this shit, not that I wanted to. I’d spent the last two days salivating at the thought of what I was going to do to her once she gave me the go ahead.

I’m not sure about her experience, I hadn’t seen much in her bio and I didn’t believe fuck of what I read online. The person I knew was not the flighty bed-hopping hoyden she was made out to be in the gossip rags. I knew enough not to believe everything I heard, but to see for myself.

I would’ve known if she was playing me, if she was putting on an act. It’s my job to know these things and I’m fucking awesome at my craft. She was the real deal. If she wasn’t an innocent, she wasn’t far from it.

That wasn’t the problem though, the problem I now have is worrying about just how much of me she could take, and not just physically. I had the insane need to take her in all the ways a man could take a woman. Something I didn’t have any experience with, but was now beating a hole in my chest.

The need to protect was there sure, but this shit ran much deeper than that. I wanted to fucking consume her from head to toe and that can’t be good for her little ass. The girl was barely five-three in heels. My strapping six foot two, two hundred and twenty pounds would no doubt crush her.

But my dick didn’t give a fuck. He liked the idea of something that small being under his control and my heart wasn’t far behind. That was the biggest part of my problem. The thing that scared the ever living shit outta me.

My heart doesn’t usually get involved in this shit. He knew better, and he stayed the fuck in his lane. Now all of a sudden he wants to make the plays and it seems that if my dick was gonna get wet, then he wanted in on the action. Son of a bitch! Why her, why now?

Wasn’t love supposed to be a soft lead-up with someone you’ve known for more than a minute? And weren’t you supposed to have some kinda say in who the fuck your heart went after? This is some bullshit.

I was just this side of pissed when I realized that she had me bent. I didn’t come here looking for this shit. A man should have some say in whom and when the fuck his life is gonna go off the rails.

If I touch her-her life will change and as much as I wanted to put her under me, I guess I felt enough for her to want her to be happy, and this shit seems to make her happy. Fucking Hollywood! So I decided to give her one last chance to walk away, by scaring the shit out of her. I’ve lost my fucking mind.

The old me would’ve taken what the fuck he wanted and bounced. This new asshole had to get caught up in feelings and conscience and shit. Fuck me, when had life become this complicated?

She watched me as I walked up on her and stood looking down at her. The moonlight shone through the bank of windows that lined the front of the house, and beyond the beach, the waves rolled gently on the water.

It was still outside, the birds had gone to bed after shitting on every available surface, and her closest neighbor was a few hundred yards away. No one would hear her scream and I had no doubt her little ass would be screaming.

I put my hands on her for the first time as a man and had to fight past the need to dig in and take. Not yet, let her have one last moment of reprieve before she stepped off this fucking cliff. I held her nape in my hand and it rang home just how tiny she was in comparison. I could snap her neck like a twig.

My guts cramped at the thought of someone hurting her if I was no longer here to protect her. How would I live with that shit if I walked away and something happened to her down the line? Still, it was only fair to give her a fighting chance, because once this shit moved to the next level, all bets are off.

"If I put you under me I will own you completely until I say different. It’s not a democracy and you won’t have a fucking choice. As your man, things will be a hell of a lot different to the way they are now. As your bodyguard, it’s your choice to take me or leave me, as your man the choice is mine.”

I let that sink in for a second before hitting her with the full force of my fuckery. I totally expected her to walk away when I was done, and as much as it pained me to do it, this was as much for me as it was her. I was fucking drowning here and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“That means if you're on the set in the middle of a scene and I give you a look that means come to me, then you drop whatever the fuck you're doing and come. I’ll deal with your onscreen kissing shit, but you ever do that shit in real life I’ll tan your ass and then make you sorry you ever crossed me. Can you handle that?"