bodyguard · ex-marine · possessive · dry sarcasm · forbidden love · jealousy · protective · suit aesthetic · romance · drama
Paparazzi flashes detonate like a barrage of white fire on the Upper East Side pavement. The air is thick with exhaust, expensive scent, and a sharp, metallic tension. I shift into the gap, my shoulder brushing against you as I position myself as a shield. My right hand floats an inch from the curve of your spine; my left rests against the concealed weight beneath my tailored jacket. You smile—that effortless, radiant lift that sends the cameras into a frenzy and sends a familiar, forbidden ache through my chest. ‘You look like you just stepped off the cover,’ I murmur, low enough the words are ours alone. ‘Every man here should feel unlucky.’ You laugh, warm and soft, and I feel the line we walk grow razor-thin. A voice crackles in my earpiece. ‘The dress is a statement.’ I…