A.C. Arthur - Guarding His Body

Breathless was exactly what his sculptures made Bree feel. Each one, twelve in all, were of men and women in various stages of sexual fulfillment—together and separately. She touched them all, hadn’t been able to resist. They were so real, so alluring. Renny Bennett must be some kind of lover to create like this.

One in particular drew her closer, both her hands moving over the cool, smooth surface. The woman stood with her back facing the man, one foot lifted to rest on an ottoman, one hand fingering her breast while the other reached up to wrap behind her lover’s neck, pulling his head closer to hers. The man was behind her, buried deep inside her womb, his hands grasping her hips as he bent her slightly forward.

Bree’s heart took on record speed as she examined the piece. For a moment she felt as if she were in the room with that couple. She could smell the distinct aroma of sex and sweat, could feel the tension rising until it clogged her throat. The place between her legs began to throb, her breasts stiffening with the erotic reverie. Then she felt it, his hands on her waist, his thumbs at the base of her back, his fingers splayed over her pelvic bone. He pulled her back to him until his hardness rested against her like a silent, but persistent, offering. She inhaled.

“It leaves you breathless, doesn’t it?” Renny asked with a thickness in his voice he hadn’t intended. Usually his work excited him, not to the point of masturbation or driving him to go out and find the nearest woman to sleep with, but excited him with a feeling of accomplishment. His dedication paid off. But watching Sabrina enjoy his creations, watching her touch the very bodies his fingers had molded did something to him. He envisioned her hands on him as clearly as if she’d turned and undressed him herself. His skin had reacted to each of her caresses as if they were meant only for him. And he wanted her.

Breathless was an understatement to Bree. She remembered inhaling, but for the life of her she couldn’t release that breath. His hands were still and they weren’t on any real prohibited part of her body, yet they sent sparks of heat through her so intense she’d closed her eyes to keep from sighing. If they were naked and she lifted her own leg he could slip inside her—they’d be just like this sculpture and she’d have the same look of supreme satisfaction on her face that this woman had.

The doorknob turned with an unmistakable click and Bree rushed away from Renny. The moment Walt entered the room she snatched her hands away from the sculpture and tried to gather her wits.

“Just a minor problem I had to deal with. So, little missy, how do you like my boy’s work?”

Renny jammed his hands into his pockets to conceal his burgeoning growth from his longtime friend. He was sort of glad that Walt had picked that moment to return. If not, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do to Sabrina next. She was an enigma. An ex-marine turned bodyguard. A wisp of a woman with the allure of a porn star. An ordinary female with more beauty than a supermodel. What had his brother gotten him into?

“The pieces are wonderful,” she said in a slow measured tone. “I would venture to say that very creative hands brought them to life. The public is going to love them.” She was looking at Walt as she spoke, but her words were meant for Renny. She’d sensed his insecurity about his work the moment they’d stepped into this room, and wondered where it stemmed from. Most artists, she assumed, were very confident about their creations, almost to the point of being arrogant. But Renny seemed a little leery, as if he were always waiting for approval—for someone to say he’d done a good job.

He was covering the pieces now, his back to her, and she felt a little deflated. He hadn’t even acknowledged her compliment. Well, it’d be a cold day in hell before the magnificent playboy received another one from her. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself the briefest second of romanticizing the man through his work. He was just what she thought he was, a manipulative womanizer. He’d touched her with such softness, such familiarity that she’d, for a moment, believed they’d had some sort of connection. That was absurd. He was Renny Bennett and she was his bodyguard. He was not attracted to her and she was definitely not attracted to him!

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