All Chapters of Tempting Her Bodyguard : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

RORYI can count on one hand the number of times I've been speechless in my entire life. It takes a lot to make me speechless and I mean a-fucking-lot. I never thought that mere seeing a person—albeit an astronomically hot and gorgeous one—would do that to me, but that's what happens to me today."Guy to our right is staring at you," Avery informs me and I lift my head, not bothering to be discreet as I search for the guy she's talking about. When I see him, I take him in, my eyes sweeping over his seated form quickly, noting how his chest puffs out like he has a balloon under his shirt and how he flashes his teeth on a grin when he sees me looking, before I look away and to Avery. "Not interested. You can have him,” I tell her before I take a sip of my coffee, my eyes returning to my phone. On one hand is my coffee and on the other, is my phone. I'm currently scrolling through my idol’s page on Picturegram, checking out her latest designs. If there's one thing I love doing, it's

CARTER When I took this job, I knew that it was going to be taxing. Most of my jobs usually are, and I don't just mean the protection aspect—no, not at all—I mean the aspect that concerns me constantly being around beautiful women. But I didn't expect it to be so damn difficult, because while I have worked with a myriad of beautiful, sexy women, I have never worked with anyone like Rory Tremaine. It would have been okay if yesterday, she decided to flash her tits at me or even come up with a ridiculous excuse to feel me up. Those things would have been better. But instead, she gave me the fucking tour and ran the hell out of there like her ass was on fire. It wasn't; she was just attracted to me. That much was obvious—and expected. I'm not some egoistical idiot or anything like that. I know how I look and I know what girls think when they see me—a quick hard fuck. And while they might not be wrong, I'm also not going to prove them right by giving them what they want. Most of the

RORYI see it in his eyes the moment it dawns on him that this is all just a ploy to get him to come into my bathroom—or see me naked. Same thing. “You don’t need a towel.” He grunts, eyes narrowed. “You don’t wear contacts either.”Both statements are perfectly correct, of course, but I still say, “How are you so sure?”I may wear contacts, there’s no way he can know for certain that I don’t.He stares at me as though I’ve just asked him how he knows the sky is blue and, okay, I see his point. I’m wearing a towel which means that I did not, in fact, forget to wear the imaginary contacts and altogether means that I do not need his help. Busted. “What the hell, Rory?” He snaps, taking several steps backwards as though it is vital he puts space between us. My hands fall from his chest, and with the way his chest is flying up and down with his harsh breaths, you’ll think he just stepped off a treadmill.His angry tone gives me pause. I mean, I understand why he might be angry that I t

CARTERI sit on the front steps of the house and get to work on lacing my shoes. Every morning before escorting Rory to work, I go for a run. It's not something I have to do considering that there's a basement gym in her house—which I've come to realise she barely uses but keeps it clean—and I can easily use the treadmill. It's habit. I'm so used to running, it's become a part of me. I'm tightening the knot when two much smaller feet appear in my periphery.The feet are clad in blue running shoes so remarkably feminine, it almost brings a smile to my lips. Almost, because in the next second, it dawns on me that they are running shoes which means that whoever this person is, is going for a run. Of course I know who it is. There's only one other person who lives in this house, and who coincidentally has the same size feet as the ones I'm currently staring at—the same person I've been avoiding like the fucking plague.I'm just a

RORYI slam my room door shut and shove my hands into my hair, so fucking pissed at Carter, I can barely see straight. How dare he try to tell me what to do? Who the hell does he think he is exactly? Trying to come up with safety measures for us when we get to the club is one thing, but flat out telling me that he is not going to allow me go is another. The audacity of that man. Telling me that he's not going to let me go as if he actually has a say. Just to prove to him that I actually can do what I want, I want to call Avery right now and ask if we can go to the club today instead and I am already reaching for my phone to do so when I remember that it's Saturday and I'm supposed to be going to my dad's for dinner. Ugh. I'm pissed at Carter for being such an ass and I'm pissed at my dad for hiring an ass to protect me. Every damn thing with the man is a fight. He can't even look at me without scowling for fucks sa