Chapter Twelve

E very time Livia looked up from serving alcohol, Carver's gaze was fixed on her. What had gotten into him? He was always protective, and more than a little highhanded too, but he seemed even more dialed in to her every move.

As if he wasn't already watching her through the security cameras he put up around the bar. She knew at least two were trained directly on the place she stood—and another was directed right at her ass.

How many times had she caught him staring at his phone, lips tilted in a private smile?

Emory slid a tray across the bar at her. "Six drafts please, Livia."

"Got it." She started pulling glasses off the shelf.

The waitress shot a sideways glance at the front of the bar where Carver stood. "That man is so into you."

She didn't need to look his way to know he was still staring. She felt his dark gaze like his callused fingertips on her bare skin. Her insides gripped.

"Who would that be?" She set a full glass on the tray and reached for an empty one.

Emory leaned over the bar. "Come on, Livia! The new bouncer is crazy about you! He can't stop staring at you."

"I don't see it." Her heartbeat doubled, and she poured all her effort into filling the glasses.

"You don't see how every time you get too far away, it's like he moves with you ."

Livia lifted her head and met Emory's eyes. Her mouth must be hanging open, because her tongue was beginning to dry out.

An image hit her mind of how Colton acted with Meadow, moving in tandem, rotating with her as if they were involved in some secret dance nobody else could participate in. Then there was Hunter and Ivy. That pair did the same.

Oh god. Carver acted the same way with her.

He claimed he was falling for her. Knowing words meant nothing in a lifetime filled with empty promises from people, Livia always took note of actions.

Her insides warmed. A flush heated her cheeks.

Emory saw it and smiled, nodding. "Now you see it too, don't you?"

She quickly filled the tray with all six drinks. "Here you go!"

Emory took the tray and walked off into the crowd, still smiling at Livia's obvious discomposure.

Hell, now she felt like she was shaking under Carver's stare. His feelings for her must be genuine—no man could keep up such an act for more than a few hours at a time. She'd seen enough of that behavior.

Carver was different. He was strong and funny, kind and—

Looking at her ass.

He was on his phone with that small, upward quirk on his lips.

To test it, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, causing her ass to sway.

The quirk turned into a smile.

She wiggled again, side to side.

The smile turned into a full-blown grin.

Before she could round the bar and stalk over to him to demand to know what exactly he was doing, she got bombarded with orders for the bachelorette party going on in the back of the bar.

For the rest of the night, she alternated between hot and cold thinking about what would happen after Badlands closed.

She would walk right up to Carver and give him a piece of her mind.

Then he would take what he wanted from her.

And she wouldn't resist.

He stood near the door, arms folded and his shoulders set, legs braced in his bodyguard stance. But his face was animated as he spoke to a guy who'd just walked in.

"Hunter!" She did one of her legendary leaps over the bar and ran up to the guys.

Hands on her hips, she stepped between them. "What's going on with Marks? We've been dying for news all day!"

Hunter's face wasn't lined with worry anymore, and before he ever spoke, that clenching fear in her gut unraveled.

"Marks is stable. There is a neck injury, but it looks like it's just swelling and bruising causing partial paralysis for now. They expect it to improve in a few days as the swelling goes down."

"Thank god!" She swiped her fingers through her hair, always tangled by this time of night.

She felt fingertips trail down her spine, and then Carver curled his hand around her waist. The heat waving off his muscled body flared through her T-shirt.

When he slid his hand from her waist to her hip and tugged her against his front, need kindled low in her core. God, she could barely focus on the conversation between Hunter and Carver—she ached for him to turn her into his arms next.

To pull her tight against him and kiss her until her knees went weak.

She'd sworn she wouldn't fall for him when she invited him into her bed. But somehow, he had insinuated himself there more and more until he was actually sleeping with her in the wreath of his arms. Even though she hadn't been consciously awake, she knew the peace of the man guarding her dreams.

He molded his hard front against her spine so she felt his thick erection lying against her back.

He wanted her just as much, and that meant she still had some sort of control in this relationship.

As soon as they closed this bar, she would let her bodyguard know who was boss.

* * * * *

Before the door of Livia's house even slammed shut, she reached out…and cupped his cock.

Dark need lashed Carver's insides. Eyes hooding, he let out a groan. "Hold that thought, darlin'. I need to—"

"Check the house." She went on tiptoe, letting her breath wash over his lips. Before she left the bar, he'd watched her slam back a shot of whiskey, and she tasted like it.

He forced himself to step away from her. Each stride he took through the rooms was more difficult with the stiff rod in the front of his jeans.

Bathroom, closet, bedroom, kitchen. He flipped on lights and checked every corner, as well as under the bed. Eager to return to the stunning woman waiting for him with desire blazing in those blue eyes, he whirled and strode back.

He stopped before barreling into Livia. Standing there. In the nude.

His cock jerked against his fly. His balls tightened and throbbed. As she gave him a slow perusing look, her nipples pebbled right in front of his eyes.

"Whatever's gotten into you, I am one lucky man." He hooked her around the waist and towed her up against him. Her flesh was still warm, pulling a growl from the pit of his gut.

He lifted her and spun for the bed. She hitched her curvy thighs around his middle and rubbed her pussy against the bulge in his fly.

Tumbling her down on the bed, he claimed her lips, kissing her with long, deep plunges of his tongue. He skated his hand down her side, stretching his fingers along the curve of her breast.

She let out a mewl of need and kissed him with a fervor he hadn't received from her the other times they made love. And here he thought he'd die from the pressure building in his groin when he watched the footage from the security cam. That was like watching soft porn in comparison to this.

She wiggled out from under him and pushed to her knees. With a gleam in her eyes and her lip trapped between her teeth, she began tearing off his clothes.

First his shirt, then his boots and socks. After that, she unzipped his fly and reached into his boxers, withdrawing his cock.

He moaned as she gave it a long, slow stroke.

Then she shimmied his clothes off his body, stretched out on top of him and took his cock in her mouth.

"Fuck!" He tangled his fingers in her thick hair. Every muscle in his body locked, and his veins thickened with lust.

She drew on his length in slow drags, using her tongue in ways that he didn't even know were possible.

Pressure coiled inside him. His balls ached, and he felt that telltale itch deep inside that told him that he didn't have long before he embarrassed himself.

Curling his fingers around her upper arms, he drew her up his body. "I need a condom. Now."

Pink roses flushed her cheeks. Her nipples were taut, ripe and swollen and ready for his lips.

He located the condoms in the drawer, vowing to use up each and every last one as quickly as possible and wipe out the memories of the men who'd come before him. Before the night was over, she was going to know how it felt to be pleasured thoroughly by a man who loved her—and she'd walk funny in the morning.

He slipped the condom in place and rolled onto his back. She didn't hesitate to straddle him.

As she was poised over his cock, he stopped her. "Look at me, darlin'."

She met his stare.

In that throbbing heartbeat, he knew the truth of what she was trying to tell him with her body.

She was falling for him too.

Rocking his hips, he nudged her drenched opening…and filled her in one slick glide.

She cried out.

He yanked her down and slammed his lips over hers, drinking in the taste of whiskey and perfect woman.

"You're gripping me so tight." He bit off the words between drugging kisses.

"You're filling me." She bit down on his lip, tugging lightly until he issued a growl and took control again.

She rose up on her knees and drew off his cock until only the tip remained inside her. Then she slammed home again. And again.

He lost control. Lost his mind.

He'd given her his heart days ago.

A wave of hair trailed over her eye, and she flipped it back, giving him a clear view of the passion on her beautiful face. When he gripped her by the hips and rolled her onto her back, he paused, taking in the moment.

"My god, you're gorgeous."

She raked her fingers down his spine. "Keep sweet-talking like that and I'm going to fall totally in love with you."

They both froze as the weight of her words sank in. She started to stutter, to cover her slip, but he pressed a kiss to her lips, trapping it in.

He began to move, driving deep. Their bodies totally in sync. Now their hearts too, if he wasn't wrong—and being an alpha male meant that he rarely was.

As her body pulsed hard around him, he flipped his tongue against hers just as her release slammed her.

She came with a muffled cry. The hard throb of his own orgasm struck. Hot cum shot up his length and flooded out.

She rocked her hips, taking him to the hilt, and he sank inside her clenching heat until the final cry escaped her.

They collapsed together. For long minutes, neither moved. He breathed in her scent, now mingled with his. His hammering heart slowed to a more normal beat.

"Livia."

"Mmhmm."

"Let's make this a nightly occurrence."

She breathed out a laugh. Unable to stop himself, he kissed her sweet, laughing mouth.

To hell with one-night stands. To hell with her rule of not sleeping all night next to her partner.

He threw his leg over her thighs, anchoring her to the bed. "I'm not leaving. Not tonight."