Page 31 of Big, Burly Bodyguard

“So your brother married a woman with my same name,” I say against Mitchell’s mouth.

He laughs. “Evidently.”

“What are the odds?”

“I’m sure we could find someone in this town who could actually answer that. Mathematically.”

“Oh, good point.”

“Evie.”

“Hmm?”

“Can you shut up now so I can kiss you?”

I loop my arms around his neck and pull him closer. Our lips meet again, and his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

I’m pressed against the warm metal of Mitchell’s truck in the dimly lit parking lot outside the chapel, the neon lights of Vegas flickering like distant fireworks. His mouth is on mine, urgent and claiming, like he’s finally letting go of whatever held him back these past days. My hands fist in the back of his shirt, pulling him closer, because holy wow, this man kisses like he’s rewriting every fairy tale I’ve ever known. No stiff royal pecks or hand-kisses here—just raw, heated passion that makes my toes curl in my ridiculous flamingo flip-flops.

His hands roam down my sides, gripping my hips with that steady strength I’ve come to crave. “Evie,” he growls against my lips, voice rough. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

I laugh breathlessly, my heart pounding like a parade drum. “If it’s anything like what you do to me, we’re in trouble.” I feel like I’m panting. “Last night after you kissed me, I was so turned on.”

He leans back to look at me. “Yeah?”

I nod. “My panties were soaked.”

His eyes darken. “Fuck.”

I nod again. “I needed so much more.”

He licks his lips. “Did you slip your hand into your panties and make yourself come?”

“I did,” I breathe.

“Hotel. Now.” It’s not a question. No, this is a promise wrapped in gravel, and it sends a shiver straight to my core.

We fumble into the truck, doors slamming with impatient thuds. I buckle up, but Mitchell’s already leaning over the console, stealing another kiss that leaves me dizzy.

“Drive,” I gasp, swatting his chest playfully. “Before we scandalize the chapel parking lot. I’m a princess, remember? Optics matter.”

He chuckles, that deep rumble that makes my knees weak. “Tempting. But I want you all to myself—no interruptions.” The engine roars to life, and we peel out.

His hand finds my thigh, squeezing gently, and I swear the air in the cab crackles with anticipation. I squirm in my seat, hyper-aware of every inch between us.

“Are you wet right now?” he asks.

“Most definitely.”

“Fuck, I want you.”

“How do we know we can get a hotel room?” I ask, impatience clawing at my insides.

“I booked one online last night. I was fighting with myself about what to do. Frustrated as fuck that I hadn’t been able to talk to my brother at all since I picked you up. I knew I needed to tell him what was going on.”

“So you just booked a room in case?”

“Maybe subconsciously, I knew how today would end up. The room probably won’t be as nice as the one Mike has, but it should have a bed.”