A Lady To The Rescue

~Kai

“Pick up, Dad. Please…” My voice cracked as tears blurred my vision. My fingers trembled so badly I could barely tap the screen to redial.

Gunfire cracked through the night air like thunder. Three of my personal bodyguards lay dead around me, their blood soaking into the cracked concrete. We had been waiting twenty agonizing minutes for my father’s reinforcements.

“Stay close, Young Master. Nothing’s going to happen to…”

Taylor’s words cut off with a wet thud. A bullet slammed into the back of his skull. He crumpled forward, lifeless.

Tears burned down my cheeks. I whipped around, heart hammering.

Five men in black tactical gear stepped out of the shadows, rifles raised. Their faces were hidden behind balaclavas, but their intent was clear.

This was it. My turn to die.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the final shots.

Instead, the roar of a powerful motorcycle engine ripped through the chaos. A split second later, rapid gunshots exploded.

When I dared to open my eyes, all five attackers lay sprawled on the ground, lifeless.

I staggered to my feet, legs shaking, and stared at the figure straddling the sleek black bike. Dressed in dark riding gear, helmet visor down, the rider’s silhouette was unmistakably feminine, curves accentuated by the tight tactical suit, long legs planted firmly on the asphalt.

A woman?

Did my father really send a woman to save me?

“Get on!” she ordered, voice sharp and commanding through the helmet’s comms.

I didn’t even have time to argue. She reached out, grabbed the front of my shirt with surprising strength, and yanked me forward.

In one smooth, humiliating motion, I was hauled onto the bike behind her, my chest slamming against her back.

My arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, damn, she was toned under that suit and my thighs pressed tight against hers.

“Hold on tight, pretty boy,” she said over her shoulder, a hint of amusement in her tone. “Wouldn’t want you falling off and ruining my perfect rescue stats.”

The engine roared to life. She twisted the throttle, and we shot forward like a bullet, tires screeching as we left the blood soaked alley in a blur.

The wind whipped past us as I clung to her like a koala on a eucalyptus tree. My heart was still racing from the near death experience, but now there was a whole new problem: every bump in the road pressed me harder against her body.

Her back was warm and firm, her waist small but strong under my hands. I could feel the subtle flex of her muscles as she leaned into turns, handling the bike like it was an extension of her.

Holy shit. She just soloed five armed men who turned my five elite bodyguards into Swiss cheese… and I’m getting hard on the back of her bike. In the middle of a getaway. What the hell is wrong with me?

I tried to shift my hips back a little, mortified, but another sharp turn forced me flush against her again.

She must have noticed, there was no way she didn’t because I caught the faintest sound of a low chuckle through the wind.

“Eyes forward, Young Master,” she called back, voice laced with teasing. “Or do you need me to save you from yourself too?”

My face burned hotter than the exhaust pipe. Great. Saved from assassins by a smoking hot female bodyguard… and now she was laughing at my raging, adrenaline-fueled boner.

This night had gone from certain death to the most embarrassing erection of my life in under two minutes.

Who the hell was she?

We tore through the city streets like the devil himself was chasing us. Every sharp turn slammed my body harder against hers.

Her back was warm and unyielding beneath the thin layer of her tactical suit, the subtle shift of her muscles as she handled the bike making my brain short circuit.

My hands were locked around her waist, fingers splayed across her toned stomach, and I swear I could feel the faint outline of abs under the fabric.

“Focus, you idiot,” I mentally screamed at myself. “You almost died. Stop noticing how good she smells.”

But my body had other ideas. The adrenaline mixed with the constant friction was doing unforgivable things downstairs.

I tried to lean back, create even an inch of space, but she hit a pothole and fuck I ground right against her ass. Heat flooded my face. There was no way she didn’t feel that.

She didn’t say a word about it. Instead, she took a hard left into a narrow side street, killed the headlights, and slowed the bike to a crawl before pulling into the shadowed entrance of what looked like an abandoned warehouse.

The heavy metal door rolled up automatically at some hidden signal.

Once inside, she killed the engine. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by my ragged breathing.

“Off,” she commanded, swinging her leg over the bike with effortless grace.

I practically tumbled off, legs numb and unsteady. My pants felt embarrassingly tight. I crossed my arms over my crotch like an awkward teenager, trying to play it cool.

She finally removed her helmet, shaking out a cascade of dark, wavy hair that fell just past her shoulders. Holy shit.

She was stunning, sharp cheekbones, full lips, piercing hazel eyes that looked like they could read every filthy thought in my head.

A small scar traced her left eyebrow, giving her a dangerous, sexy edge.

“Name’s Rhea,” she said, setting the helmet on the seat. Her voice was smoother now, laced with dry amusement. “Rhea Kane. Your father hired me two hours ago when your usual team started dropping like flies. Clearly, they weren’t up to the job.”

I swallowed hard, still staring. “You… you took down five guys. Alone. My bodyguards were all ex-Special Forces or something and they…”

“...got themselves killed in the first thirty seconds,” she finished, peeling off her gloves finger by finger. “Amateurs. Too bulky, too slow, too busy posing.”

She shrugged off her tactical jacket, revealing a tight black tank top underneath that clung to her athletic frame.

Her arms were sculpted, shoulders strong, and the way the fabric stretched across her chest when she moved made my mouth go dry. A small tattoo of a coiled snake peeked out from her collarbone.

Rhea caught me looking and arched an eyebrow. “Eyes up here, Young Master. Or should I call you Kai? Your file says you prefer Kai when you’re not hiding behind daddy’s money.”

“Kai,” I managed, voice cracking like a pubescent boy. “Just Kai.”

She stepped closer, invading my personal space without hesitation. The warehouse was dimly lit by emergency strips, casting shadows that only made her look more intimidating… and hotter. She smelled even better up close.

“Rule one,” she said, voice dropping lower as she circled me slowly, checking for injuries. “You do exactly what I say, when I say it. No arguments. No wandering off to flirt with I*******m models or whatever rich boys do for fun.”

Her hands landed on my shoulders, firm and professional, sliding down my arms as she patted me down.

It was supposed to be clinical, checking for wounds or wires but the way her palms pressed against my chest, then lower over my ribs, sent sparks straight to my groin. I bit back a groan.

“Rule two,” she continued, stopping right in front of me. Her face was inches from mine. “No getting distracted. That includes popping boners on my bike during a getaway. It throws off my balance.”

My entire face ignited. “I… I wasn’t, It was the adrenaline! And the bumps! And you’re…” I gestured vaguely at her entire body. “You’re very… aerodynamic.”

Her lips twitched into a smirk. She leaned in even closer, her breath brushing my ear. “Aerodynamic? That’s a new one. Most guys just blurt out hot and hope I don’t shoot them.”

She pulled back, but not before her hip brushed against the very obvious evidence of my adrenaline. Her eyes flicked down for a split second, then back up, sparkling with mischief.

“Relax, Kai. I’ve protected worse. Though none quite as… enthusiastic about their rescue as you.”

I wanted the concrete floor to swallow me whole. Here I was, heir to a fortune, nearly assassinated, and instead of demanding answers or calling my father, I was standing in a dingy safe house with a massive, humiliating hard on while the world’s most competent and attractive bodyguard roasted me for it.

She turned toward a metal locker and started pulling out supplies, a medical kit, spare clothes, and what looked like a high-tech tablet.

“Strip,” she said casually over her shoulder. “I need to check you properly for injuries. Bullet grazes, bruises… anything that could slow us down.”

I froze. “Strip? Here? Now?”

She glanced back, one hand on her hip, the tank top riding up just enough to show a sliver of smooth, toned midriff. “Unless you want me to do it for you. I’m very efficient.”

My brain supplied a very vivid, very unhelpful image of her hands on me for entirely different reasons.

I laughed nervously, the sound too high pitched. “You know, when my dad said protection, I didn’t think it would be this… hands on.”

Rhea low chuckle echoed in the warehouse. “Sweetheart, you haven’t seen hands on yet. Now lose the shirt before I rip it off. We’ve got assassins to outrun and a long night ahead.”

As I fumbled with the buttons, cheeks burning and pulse racing for entirely new reasons, I realized one thing with crystal clarity.

Being protected by Rhea Kane was going to be the death of my dignity… and quite possibly the best worst decision my father had ever made.

We moved up to a sprawling modern house tucked behind high walls and discreet security gates, way too big and luxurious for one person.

It looked like the kind of place a tech billionaire would hide out, not a bodyguard.

I followed her inside, still buzzing from the ride and trying , and failing to hide the evidence of said buzzing.

“How did my father get in touch with you?” I asked, trailing after her like a lost puppy. “He’s in Washington DC and I’m stuck here in Baltimore. That’s like… a whole different universe when you’re dodging bullets.”

Rhea didn’t even slow down as she led me through a sleek, open plan living area. She tossed her helmet onto a side table and shot me a look over her shoulder.

“How the fuck did you call him to save you if you know he’s that far away?” she fired back, voice dripping with mock disbelief. “Did you think daddy would teleport in with a cape and a Glock? Grow up, Kai.”

I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Fair point. My dramatic redialing suddenly felt a lot less heroic.

She pushed open a door to what looked like a secure wing of the house, reinforced windows, multiple exits, and enough tech to make my father’s security team jealous.

The place was massive, with high ceilings and minimalist furniture that screamed ‘expensive but don’t touch.’

“Are you from DC?” I tried again, desperate to regain some control of the conversation. “Or are you actually from Baltimore?”

Rhea stopped in the middle of the room, turned, and crossed her arms under her chest. The motion did things to the way her tank top stretched. My brain short circuited for a second.

“I’m the best assassin bodyguard in Baltimore,” she said, tilting her head with a slow, predatory smile that made my stomach flip. “Your dad paid top dollar for me to babysit his spoiled little prince. He mentioned you’ve got about fifty days left here before you head back to whatever trust fund paradise he’s got planned. So until then…”

She stepped closer, invading my space until I could smell that intoxicating gun oil, and her skin.

“…you’re my property now, Kai. You’re mine to watch over. Twenty four seven. No wandering off, no stupid risks, and definitely no more awkward boners on my bike unless I say so.”

She actually smiled, a full, wicked little grin that showed perfect teeth and made her hazel eyes sparkle with mischief. It transformed her from a terrifying savior into something dangerously playful.

I smirked, trying to play it cool even as heat crawled up my neck. She looked younger than I expected, maybe late twenties, early thirties at most with that sharp, confident energy that made her seem both untouchable and incredibly touchable.

“Fifty days of you owning me, huh?” I said, my voice coming out huskier than intended. “Sounds rough. But hey… if you’re the best, I guess I can suffer through it. Could be fun.”

Rhea’s eyebrow arched. She reached out and flicked my forehead like I was an annoying little brother except the casual touch sent sparks straight down my spine.

“Careful with that smirk, pretty boy. I’ve broken bigger egos than yours before breakfast. Now strip and let me check you for injuries before you bleed all over my expensive floors. Or do I need to remind you who’s in charge here?”

My smirk faltered as I remembered the strip order from earlier. My hands moved to my shirt buttons almost on autopilot while my brain supplied very unhelpful images of exactly how fun these next fifty days could get.

Being Rhea Kane’s property was going to be equal parts terrifying, hilarious, and the most dangerously arousing experience of my life.