Diva (Ironclad Bodyguards Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

be protective, but he wasn’t telling her no. She needed some fucking release, and sex was an all-natural indulgence. German guys were beautiful, athletic, and enthusiastic, and she still had plenty of condoms in her luggage. Unlike the drugs, Ransom hadn’t thrown those away, which counted as permission to be as slutty as she wanted.
    Well, she was choosing to interpret it that way.
    *
    As soon as the nightclub’s management learned that Lady Paradise had arrived, they swept her into the DJ booth. Ransom watched for signs of irritation, but she didn’t seem to mind. She spun an hour-long set as the massive club filled with more and more bodies. Word had gotten around Hamburg’s party scene that the megastar was in their midst.
    But everything was okay. The club had an adequate number of emergency exits and an impressive amount of security staff. He monitored these metrics for his client’s protection. They wouldn’t have stayed here otherwise.
    And with Lola in the booth, he could supervise her much more easily than when she was twerking and slithering on the dance floor. Honestly, the way she moved her body… It should have been illegal. It probably would be, if more women were capable of it.
    Ransom sat by the booth’s entrance and tried not to ogle her too much, but it was difficult. She was wearing a mesh crop top with a barely-there bralette, and sequined leggings that left nothing to the imagination. Instead of scattered braids, her hair was tamed into a dozen or so mini-buns that rose from her head like proliferating antennae.
    And damn her, she was still beautiful. It wasn’t right.
    He forced his eyes from her body to her fingers, flitting nimbly across the bank of audio equipment. He couldn’t seem to match up the sound coming out of the speakers with anything she was doing, but then he realized she was working on a delay. That was why she took the headphones on and off as she played with the buttons. Her head never stopped bobbing.
    Her ass never stopped shaking.
    Fuck. He had to pull himself together. She was too young, too wild, too pink, and he was too professional to think about what it might feel like to press her back on that mixing console, tear off her clothes and yank apart her thighs, and—
    “Hey, bodyguard!” She turned to him, waving her arms in the air. “How come you never dance?”
    “I’m here to work, not dance.”
    “Do you even know how to dance?”
    He slid a glance over her bare torso and undulating hips. “Not like you.”
    She laughed and turned away. Headphones on, headphones off, lights flashing, a frenetic buildup of beats he’d already come to recognize. Next would come the thing she called the “drop,” the testicle-rumbling bass explosion that made everyone go wild. The entire club screamed in the throes of aural orgasm. The other DJ in the booth grabbed Lola and kissed her on the mouth.
    Ransom stiffened, every muscle going tense. The man’s arms snaked around her waist but she did nothing to pull away. They only kissed for a few seconds, but it was too long, because the man was some random Hamburg DJ she didn’t even know.
    She turned away, laughed again, and adjusted a few levers. Headphones on, her shoulders scrunched up, her features taut with concentration as her fingers lingered on the dials. Headphones off, more laughter, and the beats rolled on and on and on. He still didn’t have those ear plugs.
    She finally gave the spotlight back to the regular DJ and exited the booth. People applauded as she reappeared on the dance floor and sketched an exaggerated bow. Ransom took her arm and leaned to speak in her ear.
    “How long are we staying? This place is really crowded.”
    “I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”
    She surged into the energetic mass, insinuating herself between pockets of humping, bumping dancers, which was easy enough to do when you were tiny. He had to nudge people aside to follow her. No way was he letting her roam freely around this place.