Body Image (Body Heat Series Book 2) Read online

  Body Image (Body Heat Book 2)

  Madeline Parr

  Contents

  Copyright

  Untitled

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Also by Madeline Parr

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 by Madeline Parr.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodies in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email [email protected]

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Cover Designer: Mayhem Cover Creations

  Editor: Nic

  Created with Vellum

  Interested in becoming an Advance Review Copy (ARC) reader? If you’d like to receive free copies of my books in exchange for an honest review, sign up for my ARC list:

  http://eepurl.com/b4jAF5

  Sign up for my mailing list to receive freebies and advance notice of new releases and sales:

  http://eepurl.com/b0oTPb

  Most men would think they’d died and gone to heaven. I just want to get the hell out of here. Body Heat. It makes me a little worried to think what crazy rich people will dream up next.

  But I’ve always done the job I’ve been hired to do, and this time is no different. If anything, I’m more determined than ever. I’ve got all the money anyone could want. Years of handling security for athletes, musicians, and actors have been good to me. Prestige? That’s a little harder to come by when you were never given the secret handshake used by old money in Ivy League schools, country clubs, and boardrooms. I sure as shit never learned it in the run-down apartment where I spent my childhood; the whole unit was smaller than a generous walk-in closet. Hell, I’ve spent most of my life on the wrong side of the tracks. But I learned from it. I work hard and I keep my nose clean. I’ll earn my place at the table, even if they don’t want me there.

  If I need to supervise security in some smutty club as the price of admission, I’ll do it. The ringmaster of this whole circus, Nova Bennett, is my ticket to the inner circle of the ultra-rich and famous. Tech geniuses, entrepreneurs, hedge-fund managers. She knows them all. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her happy as long as it gets me access to the clientele I want.

  That doesn’t mean I trust her. The woman is a piece of work. I kept an eye on my wallet, and my cock, during our initial meeting. It didn’t take a mind reader to see she was eager to get her hands on both. Keeping her satisfied and keeping her at arm’s length are two competing goals that are going to be a challenge to manage, but I’ve juggled worse.

  She’s not the only one eying me up. I’ve been approached by a handful of women already, and I’ve only been on the floor thirty minutes. I clean up well and I know it. I’m a big handsome bastard in my custom-tailored suit worth every penny of the $5,000 I spent on it. The only thing I ever wore better was my dress uniform, and I moved that to the back of my closet the day I was honorably discharged.

  “Boss.” A voice crackles over my earpiece. “There’s a situation near the elevators.”

  “On my way.” I’m moving through the gallery with a purpose. The antics in the private viewing rooms don’t even register. My focus is laser-like.

  Until I see her.

  She’s seated at the bar when I hustle by, and I can’t help the way my eyes are drawn to her. My double-take would be funny, but nothing about this situation is funny. Caroline Bishop. I haven’t seen her in years, but I’d recognize her anywhere. The perfect heart-shaped face that kept me up so many nights. The clear blue eyes, the easy smile, and petite frame. Her blonde hair cascades over her shoulders in long sun-kissed waves, a change from the chin-length bob of her college days, but I’d recognize the General’s daughter anywhere.

  It’s like a ghost from my past has returned to haunt me. She’s lounging at the bar without a care in the world, her hand wrapped around the stem of a martini glass while two men cajole her. More men eye her eagerly from the periphery of the room. It’s not hard to see why. She has a body made for sin, and if her skirt inches any higher, the club will break into pandemonium. I feel a stirring in my trousers and silently curse myself. I’d jacked off a few times this afternoon to help keep things under control tonight. Because if the beast I’m packing between my legs gets hard, there’s no hiding it. It always took everything I had to maintain my composure around her, and I guess nothing has changed in that department.

  She ran me ragged back in the day, just like she did for every other man on her detail. The job paid pretty well, but I had to earn every last penny. Then it dawns on me: it’s not my job to watch over her anymore. If she wants to parade herself around nearly naked, let her.

  Still . . . something like this would taint her father’s reputation if the media ever got hold of it. There’s no way I’m going to let that happen. Everyone who served under the General respected and admired him. Hell, we idolized him. We’d fight over the chance to jump on a grenade for him. I’m more than willing to shield him from the shrapnel his daughter could produce.

  I change direction on a dime and push aside the men trying to get into her panties. I wrap my hand around her upper arm.

  “Bayne?” Her eyes practically pop out of her head and her plump glossy lips hang open. I can’t help it; I imagine thrusting between those perfectly painted lips as she sucks eagerly, struggling to handle my length. Up close, she’s even more beautiful than I remember. Her skin is hot under my hand, and I can smell her perfume as I lean closer. The men vying for her attention have disappeared.

  “I’ve been asked to escort you to your car,” I say.

  “That’s bullshit.” She wrenches her arm from my grip and scans the room. “I want to talk to Nova.” She launches herself off the barstool and strides across the floor. A woman on a mission. I hustle after her; I need to contain this before she attracts attention. Especially Nova’s.

  I swoop beside her and wrap my arm around her waist. She’s a tiny little thing, and it’s easy to lift her clear off the floor with one arm. She kicks her feet and pushes against me, but it only takes a few seconds to get her to the elevator.

  The doors close quietly and I release her. She pushes against my chest with both hands, but I don’t budge.

  “You bastard,” she says. “You have no right.”

  “What would your father think if he knew you were in a place like this? It would destroy him. His reputation would be forever tarnished.”

  She rolls her eyes and makes a crude jerkoff motion with her hand. “I’m a grown-ass woman. It’s none of his business where I am or what I’m doing. And it certainly is none of yours.” She stabs at my chest with her finger. “It’s bad enough you and your meat-head cronies chased away every m
ale who showed any interest in me. My father used you to guard my chastity for six years. Isn’t that enough?”

  I don’t answer. I take her purse and look for car keys. I don’t find any. Crap. “I’m going to see you from the premises.” The elevator dings as we reach the ground floor. “Do I need to manhandle you again, or will you behave like a lady?”

  She kicks me in the shin as the doors slide open. I guess I have my answer. I toss her over my shoulder and carry her out the back door like a sack of potatoes. A sack of wriggling potatoes. I wrap my hand around the back of her thighs to hold her in place. I can smell her arousal and have to fight the urge to let my fingers trail higher.

  “Put me down!”

  I oblige and lean forward to set her on her feet once we’re outside. I pull my cell out and dial the cab company.

  “Oh no you don’t.” She’s lightening fast. I should have remembered that. She grabs my cell and chucks it as hard as she can. It disappears into the darkness.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” She’s even more of a pain in the ass than I remember.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Dragging me out of there like a fucking caveman. If you can’t handle my sexuality, that’s your problem, not mine.”

  “I have no problem with your sexuality. You can bang anyone you want in the privacy of your own home. But there is nothing I won’t do to keep you from going back up to that penthouse and putting yourself on display like a prime cut of meat.”

  I’m proud of my little speech until I notice the anger drain from her face. I start to really worry when it’s replaced by a sly smile. We stare at each other in silence. She moves closer, trails a finger down the front of my shirt, and looks up at me with a charming smile.

  “So, just how far will you go to keep me from going back up there?” she asks.

  “I beg your pardon?” Who does she think she’s messing with?

  “I’m getting laid tonight if it kills me. The way I see it, that leaves you with two options.” She moves closer and stands on her tiptoes until her lips almost reach mine. She smells sweet from her fruity drink, and I want to trace her lips with my tongue and taste her. Taste her everywhere. “You either put me back on the elevator to the penthouse, or you take me back to your place.”

  “You can’t be serious,” I say.

  “As a heart attack,” she responds.

  I pretend to ponder my options. There’s no way either of her suggestions are going to happen, but she’ll see right through me if I don’t at least pretend to be agonizing over her proposition.

  “I’ll take you back to your place.” I fish my keys out of my pocket. As tempting as it is, there’s no way I’m fool enough to sink balls deep into her. But she’s used to getting what she wants, and I know that turning her down will only escalate the situation. So I play along. For now.

  “I knew you’d see things my way,” she says as she wraps her arm around mine and follows me to my gunmetal gray Audi. I pop the passenger door open and ease her inside before climbing into the driver’s seat.

  “Don’t you need your phone?” The amused smile on her face kills me. Part of me wants to protect her like a perfect gentleman. The other part wants to bend her over the hood of the car and teach her a lesson she won’t soon forget.

  “You keep your ass in that seat,” I say. “I’ll be right back.” I let out a sigh as I heave myself out of the car and hustle in the general direction of where she tossed my cell. I quickly spot the metallic rectangle on the blacktop and silently give thanks for the nearly indestructible case I purchased four months ago.

  I half expect to see an empty car when I return, but she’s still settled in the passenger seat, looking pleased as punch with herself.

  “Where do you live?” I turn the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life.

  “Head for Highcastle Pines,” she says. I roll my eyes. Of course she lives in the ritziest neighborhood in the city. Probably gets a hefty trust fund payment every month.

  “Did you just roll your eyes at me, big guy?” A smile plays on her lips.

  I chuckle. Not much ever got past her. I’d forgotten that, too. I don’t respond.

  She turns away and looks out the window. “I see you still have that chip on your shoulder.”

  “I see you still get whatever you want,” I say. “Just snap your fingers and it appears.”

  Her laugh is a harsh bark. I burn out of the parking lot as she proceeds to tear me a new one. Turns out she’s also just as feisty now as she was back then.

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. I got whatever my father wanted. What I wanted never figured much into things.” The color rises in her cheeks as she dresses me down. To say I’ve hit a nerve is an understatement. “I thought you would have grown a little as a person since I knew you last. I’m disappointed to see you’re still obsessed with your classist bullshit. Especially since it looks like you’ve done pretty well for yourself.”

  My fingers clench around the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip. “You never had to do without money. That’s why it’s no big deal for you. Try skipping a few meals and see if you still feel the same way.”

  She settles back into her seat as she considers this. “You’re right, Bayne. My parents always provided for me. I always had food on the table. I had nice clothes. I went to nice schools. And yet, there are plenty of things I’ve had to do without over the years.”

  “What have you ever wanted that you haven’t gotten?”

  “True affection. I haven’t had much of that since my mother passed. I know you think my dad is a true American hero, and he is, but he’s also the guy who sent me off to boarding school when I needed him the most. I needed warmth and tenderness and I got dropped off at the airport.” She stares straight ahead as she talks. “And it wasn’t just him. I never knew if people were just being nice to me because of who he was and the money we had. I never knew if they actually liked me.”

  Shit. Now I feel like a little bit of an asshole. “I always liked you,” I say.

  “You acted like you hated me!” She leans in and rests a hand on my arm. “I tried to talk to you, but you were all business.”

  “That’s because it was business. Looking after you was my job. The other guys on your detail were already watching me because I was the youngest and we were so close in age. I had to keep things professional. And you sure didn’t make it easy.”

  She moves her warm hand to my thigh and squeezes. “Good thing we don’t have to keep things professional tonight. I was mad about you back then. Now I finally get to live out my fantasy.”

  “Not until we get to your place.” I remove her hand from my thigh and place it back on her own lap. Because it felt just a little too good. Warm and eager. I imagine it cupping my balls and stroking up and down my shaft.

  “Maybe I’ll save you a little time and get myself warmed up first.” She slides her hand under her tiny skirt and rubs herself. Her hips grind against the leather seat and a throaty moan escapes her lips. It takes every ounce of self-control I have to keep my eyes locked on the road. I won’t give her the attention she wants.

  “Don’t you want to look?” she says. “I’ll let you take a peek.”

  Fuck! I do want to look. I glance away from the road and take her in. Her skirt is bunched around her waist and she’s pulled her tiny thong to the side to give me a better view. And the view is amazing. Her pussy is bare and already swollen with desire. Her fingers move in lazy circles over her clit. I want those fingers in my mouth so I can take in her scent while I suck them clean.

  I wasn’t going to let her get to me, but with one glance I’m rock hard, straining against my trousers. It doesn’t escape her notice.

  “Oh, is that for me?” She reaches over and trails the pads of her fingers up and down my length. Her touch is maddening.

  “Not until we get to your place,” I repeat as I push her hand away. “Anyone could see us out here.”

  “I certainly like w
hat I’m seeing.” She eyes my bulge up and down. “And I’m pretty sure you did, too.”

  “I’m only human, Caroline.”

  “I’m going to need to investigate further before I believe you on that count,” she says. “When we first met, all those years ago, I thought you were part robot. Always so proper and controlled. Always said the perfect thing, did the perfect thing, acted with decorum.”

  “And you rarely did,” I say. “Sneaking out to parties. Climbing out of windows in the middle of the night.”

  “That’s what high school and college kids are supposed to do,” she says. “Are you telling me you were never wild and crazy?”

  “Not like you were.”

  “Well, then I feel sad for you,” she says, “because I had some great times back then.” She motions for me to turn and then points to a stately colonial that looks like it could house 20 people. The circle drive curves around the lighted fountain that adorns the front yard. Even in the dark, I can tell every inch is meticulously maintained.

  “You’re tensing up again.” She looks at me with a raised eyebrow as I lock up the car.

  “It’s a gorgeous little starter home.” I try to keep my tone light and teasing, but even I can hear the bite of resentment just beneath the surface.

  “Why, that’s just what I thought when I first saw it,” she says, doing her best Scarlett O’Hara impression. She unlocks the front door and ushers me inside.

  “What, no butler to greet us? Who’s going to take my coat?”

  “I gave the staff the night off. I guess I’ll just have to fetch our nightcap myself.” She strolls into the kitchen and it takes me a moment to realize she’s kidding.

  I don’t intend to stay, but I don’t want to be rude either. I perch on the oversized beige sofa and look around the room. “It’s very charming,” I say. Because it is. The restored hardwood floors warm the entire room. And the décor is the perfect mix of masculine and feminine. The leather ottoman, giant wood coffee table, and refined wool rug would be too heavy, but a vase of fuchsia flowers brightens the space, as does the vibrant art that adorns the walls.