LOGINLauren left her bedroom, expecting to find Wyatt in the living room doing his usual vigilant watch. But the space was empty. Then she heard it, the shower switching on. Her bathroom had two doors. One in her room and the other led into the hallway next to the spare bedroom.Right. He needed to clean up too. They'd both been drenched in sweat after that training session.She headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge to assess what she had. Not much. Some ham, cheese, bread. Condiments. A few wilted vegetables that should have been thrown out days ago.They needed to go shopping. Wyatt would probably want to arrange delivery, have someone else do it to minimize her exposure. But she hated that. Hated having someone else pick her vegetables and meat, never getting the right cuts, the right ripeness.She pulled out the ham and cheese, started assembling sandwiches. She made one for herself and two for Wyatt. Put them in the toaster oven to melt the cheese. Simple lunch, but it would do.B
Back at her apartment, Lauren headed straight for her bedroom without a word. She was done talking. Done trying to reason with Wyatt's stubborn insistence on maintaining boundaries that neither of them wanted."I'm showering first," she announced, not waiting for his response before closing her bedroom door. Not slamming it, she wasn't a child throwing a tantrum but firmly enough to make her point.She stripped off her sweaty gym clothes, dropping them in a heap on the floor. Her body was still humming with unfulfilled need, every nerve ending alive and screaming for release. For Wyatt's hands on her skin. For his mouth. For his cock driving into her until she forgot her own name.But apparently that wasn't going to happen. Because Wyatt Heywood was too fucking professional to give them both what they so clearly wanted.Lauren turned on the shower, letting the water heat up while she stared at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses, her eyes dark wit
"Hey." Wyatt moved closer, reading her expression. "You're safe. This is controlled and I'll stop the second you say the word."She nodded. "It's not you... it's the thought—""I know what you're thinking." He grabbed a mat from against the wall, spread it on the floor. "Lie down. On your back."Lauren lowered herself to the mat, her heart hammering. Wyatt knelt beside her, his expression completely professional despite the intimacy of the position."I'm going to straddle you," he explained. "Pin your arms. This is the worst-case scenario, attacker on top, you on your back, no room to move. Okay?""Okay," she whispered.He moved over her, his thighs bracketing her hips, his hands catching her wrists and pinning them beside her head. His weight settled onto her, heavy and overwhelming.Lauren's breath caught. Not from fear like she'd worried about. From the feel of him, solid muscle and heat and power, all of it pressing her into the mat. What if this had been a mattress?He said quiet
Thirty minutes later, they were back at her apartment. Wyatt had given her ten minutes to change into workout clothes, leggings and a sports bra under a loose tank top, while he'd done the same, swapping his jeans for athletic shorts and a fitted T-shirt that showed off every muscle he possessed.Which was a lot of muscle.Lauren tried not to stare as they climbed back into his truck. Tried not to notice the way the fabric stretched across his chest, his shoulders, his arms. Tried not to imagine running her hands over all that hard muscle.Failed spectacularly. He hadn't spoken much since finding out she had played him. She worried he was sulking. But he was also making sure they were not getting followed.It wasn't long before they pulled up outside a nondescript building in an industrial area of Brooklyn. No sign, no markings, just a heavy metal door, which had been left open."Where are we?" Lauren asked."Private boxing gym." Wyatt killed the engine. "Owner's an old friend."They
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up outside a building that Lauren knew.A gun range."Why are we here?" she asked, though she already knew."Because you're going to learn how to shoot." Wyatt killed the engine, turning to look at her. "Basic self-defense, Lauren. You need to know how to protect yourself if I'm not there. First this, then later hand-to-hand combat."She should tell him. Should admit that she already knew how to shoot, that she'd taken a role two years ago as an assassin and had spent weeks at ranges just like this one, discovering she had a natural talent for it.But looking at Wyatt's serious expression, and then thinking of his smug look, she decided she wasn't going to tell him after all.'Why not let him?' she thought, a plan forming. 'Why not let him think I'm completely inexperienced? Why not let him stand behind me, his body pressed against mine, his hands guiding mine, remembering her first lesson?'It was petty. It could be called manipulative. It was exactl
They left around five-thirty, after the doctor Grayson had called finally managed to sedate Emma.Lauren couldn't get the sounds out of her head. Emma's screams as the doctor had approached with the syringe, her desperate pleas for them not to make her sleep, not to take away the pain because the pain was all she had left of Daniel. The way she'd fought them, actually fought them, clinging to Grayson, begging, but the doctor had been worried that Emma could hurt herself and she just needed to rest."Don't make me forget," Emma had sobbed. "Please don't make me forget he's gone. Don't make me sleep. I need to—I need to feel this—""Emma, you need to rest. You are not going to lose your memories, but you need to rest." Grayson tried to calm her down.But they'd done it anyway. Honey holding one hand, Prue holding the other, while the doctor administered the sedative that would give Emma a few hours of peace whether she wanted it or not.Now Lauren sat in the passenger seat of Wyatt's pi
Honey glanced at Grayson before answering. "It started as a way to make my own path without trading on my father's name. My father also wanted me to have around-the-clock protection. Then it became... a habit, I guess. A comfortable separation between my personal and professional lives.""Plus, her
Grayson checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes, pacing the small café where he'd arranged to meet Morgan. He'd deliberately arrived early to secure a quiet corner table, away from potential eavesdroppers. The location was public enough to prevent a scene but private enough for the
Nate laughed. "No, I think we both know who'd win in that scenario. Between your father's connections and your own intelligence, I'd put my money on you." His expression softened. "Besides, I've seen how you look at him. You're not going anywhere. I'm happy for you both."No, she wasn't going anywh
Grayson pulled through the gates of the Johnson estate, following the circular drive that wound past manicured gardens and marble fountains. The security checkpoint had waved him through after confirming his identity, but not before he'd noted the additional personnel stationed around the property.







