Griffin knew that she wanted him to watch her as she moved, that little black dress barely covering her thighs, the sweet sashay of her ass as she walked into the bathroom. He laughed when she glared at him and locked the door, and he moved to the window to see if anyone might be lurking in the hotel parking lot. Luckily, there was nothing more than usual, so Griffin made his way to bathroom door and stood in front of it.

 

This wasn’t his first time running protection, but for some reason, this was both easier and harder than it usually was. He wasn’t protecting a gun shipment this time. Instead, he was protecting some beautiful girl who was both fascinating and absolutely infuriating. He had no idea that this job could bring such pain and pleasure.

 

He listened to her move in the bathroom, turning the knob to turn the shower water on, grabbing a towel. Griffin allowed his mind to wander a little further, thinking about her removing that dress to reveal that incredible body. He thought of her standing there in only her bra and panties, slowly removing both and letting them fall to the floor.

 

The idea that she knew he was there as she undressed got him hard again. Did she linger over the clasp of her bra, only to allow the straps to slide down her narrow shoulders as she lowered the item of clothing to the floor? Did she bend over low and deliberately when she took her panties off? Did she think about him thinking about her? It was almost too much to bear, and in his mind, she hadn’t even stepped into the shower yet.

 

There she went, in his mind just about as much as she was probably doing in real life. Stepping lightly into the shower, covering her body in water. He tried not to picture her running her hands over her own body, touching her breasts, her thighs, moving inward. He thought of her hands, all soapy and warm and wet, reaching out to pull him in with her. For a moment, his breath hitched at the thought of her hands slowly moving down to touch his cock.

 

This girl was so much trouble; that much was for damn sure. He tried to think about anything but her naked, wet body only feet away from him. If he burst in there right now, would she greet him with the same enthusiasm that he wanted to greet her?

 

As the minutes passed, Griffin began to reflect on how long it took women to get ready for things. For a girl who was minutes away from running, she sure was taking her time in the shower. He strained his ear to listen, trying to hear the normal sounds of water hitting skin, the splash and movement of someone showering, but he couldn’t hear a damn thing.

 

“Natasha?” he called, not fully willing to knock on the door just yet on the off chance that she might yell at him again. He didn’t hear anything, and he wondered if something had happened.

 

Had she really been shot and hiding it the entire time? Was she bleeding out on the floor right now? Had someone been hiding in the bathroom…but he was too distracted by her to really check? Endless scenarios rolled through his head, as he finally gave a knock at the door.

 

It was tentative at first, then he knocked harder…and then harder, until he was almost breaking the door down, and throughout all of it, the water kept running as though he were just being silly, and everything would be alright.

 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. He had let the girl get to his head, and now look at what happened. He wondered what to do next, until that question was answered for him with the sound of a crash.

 

It sounded almost like a motorcycle falling over.

 

It sounded like his motorcycle.

 

Heart pounding, he drew his gun and ran to the door, fully ready to shoot whomever was messing with his bike, no matter how innocent they were otherwise. His trigger finger stalled itself as soon as he saw the long, lithe figure of Natasha, now wearing jeans and a t-shirt, sliding one long leg over his seat to mount his bike.

 

“Natasha?” his mouth moved around her name, but after speaking it, he realized that he had barely said it out loud. Straddling his bike, she looked incredibly beautiful, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind, her eyes looking up at him with a look of such complete fearlessness it seemed almost as though she had been born on that bike.

 

He was about to open his mouth to tell her that she had no way of starting it, until with a sinking feeling he remember that he had left the keys in the ignition out of stupid habit. He didn’t have much time to feel like an idiot as Natasha slid his helmet on, revved the bike, and sped out onto the parking lot, as though she had been riding a motorcycle her entire life.

 

Stunned, he watched her go, watching those beautiful thighs gripping his seat, her hands sure and strong as she steered. The shock slowly began to melt, as he realized that the person he was supposed to protect had suddenly stolen his only method of transportation, leaving him alone.