I woke up with a throbbing headache and the need to drink an entire bathtub's worth of water. As I opened my eyes, I saw the cup of water sitting next to my bed like an oasis in the desert.

Bathtub.

As I reached for the water, I had a hazy vision of being tied up and tossed under a cold shower. Motherfucker. That actually happened.

I chugged down the water and lay back into the pillows, groaning. More memories from the night before were appearing in my head, like the whole reason why I'd gotten trashed in the first place: my new live-in bodyguard was sinfully hot. Infuriatingly so. I'd working fucking hard to control these unwanted feelings, so to have one man step into my house and send it all tumbling to the ground in an instant was... Well, it was more than enough to set me off.

I remembered him wrestling me to the ground, though the reason why was hazy. What I did clearly remember was getting a fucking hard-on when he'd tied me up with his belt. Alcohol had always been a boner killer for me, but somehow, Sylus Synn had broken down that barrier. Jesus, I hope he didn't notice.

My head continued to throb. Now my face was bruised, battered, and I had a hangover. I needed a Tylenol, but I didn't want to get up to go downstairs and get one. He was there. I couldn't believe Denny had actually hired me a live-in bodyguard.

Fuck. The way he held my arms behind my back, how one hand alone was strong and big enough to clasp my wrists together. The way he manhandled me onto the bed. That raw feeling of wanting I had in that moment, from a man I didn't even know. That was crystal in my mind.

Just thinking about it was enough to make my cock hard. I felt it swell and push against the sheets, and I realized that I was naked. Holy fuck. Frantically, I did my best to put the rest of the night's events in order. Sylus had tossed me in the shower, which had thankfully extinguished my excitement, and after that... I couldn't remember. I hoped to God I'd undressed myself.

I threw off the covers and got out of bed to take a shower—a hot one this time. I found my pants draped over the side of the bathtub, still wet, and my underwear next to them. I stared at them, my heart pounding and my memory still no help at all.

After my shower I went downstairs and was surprised to find the place empty. No duffel bag, couch untouched, absolutely zero sign that he'd been here. I knew that I hadn't dreamed him up. After all, he'd arrived before I'd gone to the bottle. He'd re-bandaged my hand.

I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. No sign of the venison steaks he'd talked about either.

Suddenly, a very real possibility crossed my mind.

Did I fire him?

An overwhelming mixture of relief and disappointment washed through me. Maybe he'd gone. Poof, in and out of my life just like that. No need to worry.

I opened the mini under-cabinet fridge where I stored my liquor and stared blankly at an empty shelf.

"What the hell?" I asked aloud. I looked in the trash can, the cabinets, the freezer, the pantry room, everywhere I didn't keep my alcohol, and found nothing. "Fucker stole my booze." I laughed. "That asshole actually stole my booze."

I went back to the living room where I had a chest of "the good shit," the stuff I saved for special occasions. Was this a special occasion? I'd come this close to having a man under my roof who, as much as it absolutely killed me to admit, would've completely destroyed all hope of resisting the shameful temptations I had.

I'd never encountered a man like that before, someone who could turn me on that much just by looking at them. It was insane, and I hated it. I'd written songs about love at first sight, but I'd never actually believed in it. Not that this was love, hell no, but it definitely was a level of something that I wasn't used to.

There was a bottle of Krug that I was going to drink after my album release, but maybe I could begin celebrations early. I pulled the cabinet door open and felt a chill go through my entire body as my brain tried to process what I was seeing.

Nothing.

There was nothing inside.

I dropped down to my knees and looked into the very back of the cabinet, and saw that it was as empty as this whole goddamn house. Then, I realized that Sylus hadn't stolen anything.

That son of a bitch! He'd thrown it all away!

I rushed outside to rescue my booze from a date with the garbage man, and tore open the lids of the bins sitting along the side of my house.

"You won't find what you're looking for," a voice called.

In my blind disbelief I'd managed to miss the black Escalade that was parked in my courtyard roundabout, next to the fountain that I'd never bothered to turn on since I'd bought the place. Sylus was sitting on a collapsible canvas stool in front of a folding card table with a single-burner gas grill. A steak was frying on a pan. I was so bewildered by what I was seeing that I momentarily forgot about the alcohol.

"Are you camping in my driveway?" I demanded.

Sylus sipped from a tin mug. "Nope. Just cooking some breakfast. I'd offer you deer steak, but you don't eat meat. Sorry, must’ve overlooked that one in the brief.”

"Why the fuck are you cooking deer steak in my driveway?"

He cocked his head, the slightest of smirks crossing his lips. "Didn't want to smell your house up if you're a vegetarian."

I had no idea if he was just fucking with me, or if he was being sincere. Then, I remembered why I was out here.

"You son of a..."

I stomped towards him, the flames of anger flickering up inside of me. He was going to pay for being such an asshole.

"Want some coffee? It's a lot better than whiskey." He held up his mug. I swung my fist and hit air. "Oops," he said. "Maybe not."

"Fuck!" I shouted.

He set down the mug and gave me a serious look. That damn eye of his, his gaze was piercing. It made me feel naked, and I hated it.

"Are we really going to do this again?" he asked.

"What the fuck did you do with all my stuff?"

"It's gone, Chris. Don't even bother."

I charged him like a linebacker. If I couldn't hit him, I could tackle him. Or, so I thought.

I caught him around the waist, smashing my shoulder against him. My feet scraped against the ground as I tried to push him backwards, but the only thing that seemed to move was me. I bellowed in frustration, throwing all of my weight forward. How the fuck was he able to take that? It was like he was made of stone. He wasn't that much bigger than me, but I couldn't do a damn thing.

Then, suddenly, Sylus had flipped around me, his huge forearm anchored around my neck. His leg locked around my front and he dropped down to the ground, pulling me on top of him in a rear choke hold. I could feel his package pressing against my ass.

I pulled at his arm, trying to break free, but he had me locked. As pissed off as I was, I also felt that same excitement from last night. Feeling his body against me like this, pulling me so fucking tight... I didn't know if I could stop the reaction I was about to have.

"Look," he grunted into my ear. "I don't like this shit any more than you do. I don't know what your deal is, but I'm here to keep your shit together. Once my contract is up you can drink yourself to death for all I care. But for now, why don't you make things easy for the both of us and calm the fuck down?" He squeezed his arm tighter. "Huh?"

Maybe it was the fact that this was getting me hot as fuck, but I felt the anger suddenly drain away. I nodded and tapped the ground. "Alright, yeah," I said. "Yeah."

He pushed me off and I tumbled to the pavement, coughing.

"C'mon," he said, his voice softening. Standing over me, he held his hand out. "How about breakfast? I'm no vegetarian, but I'm told I can make a mean veggie omelette."

I took his hand and got to my feet. He adjusted his eye patch and stared at me. I stared back, my heart thudding heavily in my chest.

"It's seriously all gone," I said, more a bewildered statement than a question. I stood silently, watching as he turned back to the little stove and continued cooking his steak. I was over here just barely catching my breath and he looked completely unaffected.

"When I was in the Marines, there was a saying that pain is just weakness leaving the body. You can run from the pain, or you can embrace it."

"Goddamn," I said. "A bodyguard and a therapist. What a great deal."

Normally, this kind of shit would've pissed me off, especially coming from someone I barely knew, but the truth was that his words did hit me. He was the first person to acknowledge that I was suffering. Not even Audrey had realized what shit storm I was going through until I'd told her my secret. Sylus had identified that after knowing me for hardly any time at all.

He took the steak off the grill and opened up a cooler sitting in the trunk of the Escalade. I was surprised to see he had a whole assortment of fresh food inside of it.

"You brought all of that with you?" I asked.

"My family has a ranch," he said, taking out a carton of eggs. "Brother's place, now. He's got chickens and a pretty impressive vegetable garden. Didn't know what the situation was going be here, so I came prepared."

"Yeah, I'll say," I replied. "Cook that inside. The sun is not helping my headache at all."

"You don't mind if I bring a bit of meat indoors?"

"Sylus, I don't give a fuck. Just don't try to make me eat it."

* * *

He wasn't lying. He could make a pretty killer veggie omelette. We sat across from each other at the dining table, me with my omelette and him with his deer steak. He ate quickly like it was his last meal, slicing up the meat all at once and then shoveling it into his mouth.

"For someone who doesn't want any, you're sure staring a lot," he said.

I felt my face go hot and I quickly looked away. It wasn't the food I was staring at. "So, is that your thing? Going around and shooting animals?"

"It's one of my things," he said, shoveling a piece of meat into his mouth.

"You enjoy killing?"

He looked up at me. I was trying to get to him for no other reason than wanting to see what kind of reaction he’d give me. If he was angry, his face didn't show it, but his stare remained as intense as always.

"I enjoy living." He stabbed the last piece of meat on his plate and wolfed it down. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and then squeezed it into a ball. "I've gotta eat to live. I don't have any problem killing my food. Better with my own two hands than some stranger doing it."

"You were in the Marines?"

"I was."

"Did you do much killing there, too?"

He blinked, but otherwise didn't react to my question. I was being a complete dick, and I knew it.

"I was a sniper for the Marines Special Forces. So, yeah. It was part of the job description."

"MARSOC," I said.

His eyebrow raised with surprise. I'd managed to get a reaction, but not the way I'd thought I would've. "Yeah, that's it. I'm surprised that you know the name. Not many civilians do."

"My dad was a Marine," I said. "Not special forces, though."

"What's he do now?" Sylus asked.

"Not much," I said. "He died when I was twelve."

"I'm sorry," he said. "My parents are gone, too."

"I've still got my mom." I stood up and took both our plates to put in the dishwasher. "Well, she's alive, anyway." Suddenly, a torrent of memories and all the terrible feelings that came with them were rushing back to me completely unexpected. I stood at the sink, trying to calm myself down, but my hands were shaking.

I felt a touch on my arm, and I inhaled sharply and turned to see Sylus standing next to me. "You alright?" he asked.

My heart was racing, my entire body on the verge of that insane urge to fight or find a bottle. I realized I was breathing hard. "Yeah," I said, doing a terrible job at hiding it. "Of course."

"Parents are a rough topic. I completely understand," he said. "Let’s drop it."

Slowly, I felt the embers begin to cool. My pulse was still pounding, but for a different reason. Who the hell was this guy? How was he able to see me so clearly?

"So, why'd you decide to become a vegetarian?" he asked. "There's gotta be a story there, right?"

It was funny how I'd been the one to get upset, when it was me trying to push his buttons. And now he was turning the subject, trying to pull me out of my head and make me feel comfortable. Was I really that fragile?

I rinsed off the plates and slid them onto the dishwasher rack. "I've got enough bad karma already. I don't need any more."

"Fair," Sylus replied.

How was it possible that someone could make me feel this tormented, this wild, and yet at the same time have the ability to put me at ease?

"Where'd you sleep last night?" I asked.

"Living room."

"Oh. I've got one furnished guest room upstairs. You can set up in there. I mean, if you want."

Sylus smirked at me and hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. "I thought I was fired?"

"What do you mean?"

"Last night. You said you were going to fire me."

So, it had happened. Not much of a surprise there.

"Yeah, well... I was drunk."

"I'll go get my shit, then."

When he'd gone, I felt the air leave my lungs like I'd been holding in my breath. So, that was it. Sylus Synn was moving in.