Romance Books About Bodyguards Novels & Stories

The bodyguard immediately approached. "Do you like this?" Katty asked, pointing at her chest. The bodyguard nodded. "Give me your hand," said Katty. The guard gave her his hand. Katty took the bodyguard's hand and then put it on her chest. The guard seemed unable to hold himself anymore. Spontaneously, he looked down and then swept the two small hills on Katty's chest with his tongue. Katty stretched and groaned, enjoying the sensation of the bodyguard's tongue playing. Occasionally she groaned when the guard bit lightly on her nipple. Her breath was gasping. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. The guard immediately stopped his activities. Katty immediately got up and pushed the bodygua

“Just say the word if he does. I’ll gift you his head on a silver platter.” I rolled my eyes, already grabbing my bag. “I’m leaving now.” Before I could reach the door, his voice softened. “You still haven’t given me an answer about the personal bodyguard, Dorla. I have too many enemies. I can’t have you walking around the city unprotected. You know how much you mean to me.” He reached out and caressed my hair, fingers gentle. He knew that was my weakness. I sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay. I promise we’ll talk about it properly when I get back.”

His hands curled into fists at his side like he was trying so hard to control his anger and I wasn't making it easier. "I don't doubt it," he muttered. I straightened my dress. My eyes caught a tear in the sequins. Damn it. "Who are you?" "I'm Roman Wolfe," he crossed his arms. "Your father hired me." My jaw dropped. "My father doesn't know I'm here." "You'd be surprised," he said, stepping closer, close enough that I could smell him, woodsmoke and something... I couldn't name it but it made my wolf perk up again. "I'm your new bodyguard and you're coming home with me. Now."

A story of a bodyguard and an artist, a protector and a creator, a partnership that had healed not only their own wounds, but the wounds of the world. A story that, like the horizon over their beloved valley, was endless. The End.

His eyes locked with hers—burning, controlled, dangerous. “You’re not just my bodyguard, Louis,” she whispered. “You’re the only place I feel real.” He said nothing at first. Then, gently, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek. “I’ll guard you with everything,” he murmured. “But not just from danger. I’ll guard your heart, Lauren. Even when it breaks for the wrong reasons.” She closed her eyes. But only for a second.

Cassian’s penthouse was exactly what Rowan expected: sleek, expensive, and carelessly trashed. Empty champagne flutes littered the counter. A silk shirt hung off a chandelier. There was a smear of something on the white marble that Rowan decided not to inspect too closely. And there was Cassian, lounging shirtless on a velvet couch in the living room, flipping through his phone, ice pack pressed lazily to his face. He looked up, sunglasses still on, and gave a dry smile. “Let me guess. Another therapist?” “No,” Rowan said flatly. “Bodyguard.”

Elena sighed and pressed closer to his warm body, feeling their heartbeats begin to sync. His lips brushed softly against her neck, his warm breath trembling slightly on her skin. Elena closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensations enveloping her — safe in his arms. Luca slid his hands beneath her blouse, feeling the subtle tremble of her body adapting to every touch. His fingers traced the curve of her waist, climbing slowly to her back, revealing soft, velvety skin. Their breaths mingled as Luca lowered a deep kiss to her collarbone, followed by a lighter, almost wet kiss. Elena shivered and arched toward him, silently calling him closer.

We need to meet asap'. I reply to her saying that I was going to contact her once I settled down, but she doesn't let me have it. She insists we meet for lunch in her apartment and texts me the address, saying she won't accept no for an answer. So, I get myself and Ellie ready, and call my mom to see if she can watch her while I'm out. After that, I call Rocco–the driver who Tony assigned for me, who is also my personal bodyguard. Rocco seems to be just as young as me and worships the ground Tony walks on. It would be cute if not annoying. He doesn't let me go anywhere without following me like a shadow. Tony's orders, he keeps telling me, as if I don't already know.

Now she had to wonder how many people remained, and how many of them would be willing to talk to her. Inhaling deeply, she stepped out of the car, her ankle-length boots crunching the snow beneath her feet as she was flagged by Russo, Tazio, and three bodyguards: two of them were her brother's personal henchmen and the third his contracted assassin. The more dangerous people she was surrounded with, the safer she would be, was her brother's thought, but Serafina knew that no amount of fear would help her in this situation. Russo pushed open the wooden door and Serafina inhaling sharply once she entered.

Then it clicked. Anna. Her name, her file, her history. Every detail I had glanced at before suddenly made sense. She was the same woman—the new bodyguard for the estate. The one who had walked into my life unexpectedly. My lips curved into a small, dark smirk. This is going to be interesting. --- The hours that followed crawled, punctuated by small interruptions: calls, briefings, and minor inconveniences that should have been trivial. And yet, every minute, every second seemed stretched taut, a reminder that something in the day felt off.