The Bodyguard Quotes

“The tattoos around his eyes burned as he scanned the surrounding area. No one but him probably noticed, but the plumes of darkness branching in every direction were writhing and groaning, desperate to avoid the light of the moon and street lamps.
Come to me, he beseeched them.
They didn’t hesitate. As if they’d merely been waiting for the invitation, they danced toward him, flattening against his car, shielding it—and thereby him—from prying eyes.
“Freaks me out every damn time you do that,” Rowan said as he crawled into the front passenger seat. For the first time, Sean’s friend had accompanied him to “keep you from doing something you’ll regret.” Not that Gabby had known. Rowan had lain in the backseat the entire drive. “I can’t see a damn thing.”
“I can.” Sean’s gaze could cut through shadows as easily as a knife through butter.
Gabby was in the process of settling behind the wheel of her car. Though more than two weeks had passed since their kiss, they hadn’t touched again. Not even a brush of fingers.
He was becoming desperate for more.
That kiss . . . it was the hottest of his life. He’d forgotten where he was, what—and who—was around him. He’d never, never, risked discovery like that. But that night, having Gabby so close, those lush lips of hers parted and ready, those brown eyes watching him as if he were something delicious, he’d been unable to stop himself. He’d beckoned the shadows around them, meshed their lips together, touched her in places a man should only touch a woman in private, and tasted her.
Oh, had he tasted her. Sugar and lemon. Which meant she’d been sipping lemonade during her breaks. Lemonade had never been sexy to him before. Now he was addicted to the stuff. Drank it every chance he got. Hell, he sported a hard-on if he even spotted the yellow fruit.
At night he thought about pouring lemon juice over her lean body, sprinkling that liquid with sugar, and then feasting. She’d come, he’d come, and then they could do it all over again.
Seriously. Lemonade was like his own personal brand of cocaine now—which he’d once been addicted to, had spent years in rehab combating, and had sworn never to let himself become so obsessed with a substance again. Good luck with that.
“I’m getting nowhere with her,” Rowan said. “You, she watches. You, she kissed.”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Gabby’s car passed his and he accelerated, staying close enough to her that anyone trying to merge into her lane wouldn’t clip his car because they couldn’t see him. Not that anyone was out and about at this time of night. “She’s mine. I don’t want you touching her.”
“Finally. The truth. Which is a good thing, because I already called Bill and told him you were gonna be the one to seduce her.”
“Thanks.” This was one of the reasons he and Rowan were such good friends. “But I thought you were here tonight to keep me from her.”
“First, you’re welcome. Second, I lied.”
― Gena Showalter, The Bodyguard

“Rowan didn’t speak as she turned on her heel and strode to the door. Didn’t speak as she opened it, exited, and shut it behind her with a gentle click. Then he swiveled in his chair and leveled Sean with a dark glare.
“What the hell just happened?”
“That’s called a strikeout,” Sean said with a grin. “I’ve never seen you crash and burn like that, my friend.”
“I know. Embarrassing is what it is. I mean, really.”
Rowan tangled his fingers through his hair. “You got a better response than I did.”
“Please, I got nothing, same as you.”
Rowan offered him a sheepish smile. “I know. But I felt the heat pulsing off you the moment she stepped into the office. Then I saw the fantasies you were weaving about her and decided to throw you a bone. So you want her, huh?”
Sean lost his grin but managed to shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Unless you picked up on her weaving fantasies about me?”
A sigh. “Sorry. Her mind was a blank slate to me. I didn’t pick up on a single thought, emotion, or desire. It’s like she operates on a completely different frequency than the rest of the world.”
She probably did, with all those wires and chips in her head.
“Still,” Rowan continued, “we can call Bill and tell him you’re the one who should be—”
“Nope.” The word burned his tongue, and he hated himself for saying it, but he didn’t take it back. Success was too important. “I don’t exactly inspire trust in the women I date. The opposite, in fact. Something about me makes people distrust every word and action.” His affiliation with the shadows, with darkness, most likely. They must have sensed it on some level. “You’re better at romancing and I’m better at killing.”
― Gena Showalter, The Bodyguard

“What’s mine is now yours. I mean, really. It should be. You have my heart, and everything else is just bonus. You told me the shadows don’t bother you, and I’m trusting you. I want to marry you, Gabby. I want to live with you. I want to hold on to you and never let you go. I love you. If you don’t want any of that, I’ll understand. I won’t like it, but I’ll understand. Only, you should know that I won’t give up. I’ll romance the hell out of you until you finally cave.”
Her legs almost gave out. This was everything she’d ever secretly dreamed. “I love you, too. I love you and I want to marry you, live with you, be with you forever. You have my heart. Why not my life, too? But if you think that means you don’t have to romance me, you are in for a rude awakening.”
“Thank God.” He strode to her, grabbed her up, and carried her upstairs. “I was prepared to get on my knees and beg if necessary.”
She grinned. She just couldn’t help herself. “Don’t let me stop you.”
He chuckled, and the beautiful sound washed over her. “Oh, I’ll get on my knees soon enough; don’t worry.”
― Gena Showalter, The Bodyguard

“You really don’t mind that I can learn everything about you so easily?”
“As I don’t plan to keep secrets from you again, no, I really don’t mind. But I would appreciate it if you promised to come to me, talk to me, if anything you learn about me disturbs you.”
A promise like that implied she would be around for a while. Though she knew she shouldn’t, she said, “I promise.” And she meant it. Starting now. “Your psychiatrist believes you are wrong to push people out of your life.”
A muscle ticked below his eye and a rosy flush overtook his cheeks. “Every agent has to see a shrink periodically.”
“Well, you’re not going to drive me insane with your darkness. I told you, I like it.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Your father was wrong, Sean. Not once have I thought I was losing my mind.”
“But it has happened to others,” he insisted harshly.
“I’m different. Remember? My brain operates on a different wavelength.”
They stared at each other as he considered her words. Then, slowly, a smiled curved his lips, and the clouds cleared from his eyes. “Then I won’t hold anything back from you. I won’t push you away,” he said. “God help you, I’ll only draw you closer. I didn’t have much fight left in my anyway. I want you too damn bad.”
― Gena Showalter, The Bodyguard

“Her heartbeat went from fear-frantic to lust-induced, manic tom-tom in a tenth of a second. “Sebastian.” A frisson ran from her temple to her toes and the tight place inside her chest unfurled as she breathed his name. “Are you real?”
In response he plunged his fingers into her wet hair. Gripping her head in a hard palm, he took her mouth in a rough, carnal kiss that left nothing to the imagination. She knew precisely what he wanted because ever since that night, she’d been wanting it, too. She responded with equal passion, snaking her hand around to the back of his neck and holding him in place as she thoroughly enjoyed her first real-world kiss in way, way too long.
His mouth left hers, and she whimpered in protest. “Come back; I wasn’t done.”
“Patience is a virtue.” He nibbled her earlobe, making her shudder, then swirled his hot, wet tongue in her ear until she arched her neck with a thick moan. His mouth, tongue, and teeth made her forget where she was for just a little while. Made her forget where she was and what was about to transpire.
Sebastian shifted his head the few inches required to plunder her mouth again. She saw fireworks behind her closed lids as he dragged his firm mouth back and forth across hers before plunging his tongue back to duel with hers.
Dizzy with lust and longing, heart about to burst out of her chest, Michaela couldn’t—forgot to—draw a breath and ripped her lips from his to drag in lifesaving oxygen. “You’re t-torturing me—”
“Breathing is highly overrated.”
― Cherry Adair, The Bodyguard