He’s the lethally disciplined Heavy Kings’ VP.
I’m the bratty tattoo artist he’s sworn to guard.
Eight weeks. One locked-down shop. Zero chance we stay “professional.”
Tyson Monroe is my new live-in bodyguard, a walking fortress of a man whose stern demeanor begs me to push his buttons. I love to watch his control crack, love to see him glare at me with those dont test me eyes.
But when I do test him, his discipline is swift, strict, and unforgettable.
Then come the kisses. Then the touches.
Then . . . so much more.
There’s just one problem. His club president, the man who could end Tyson’s career, has made it clear I’m off-limits.
We should stop. Never touch each other again.
But its not an option. Each kiss brands deeper than the ink, each touch claims me as him. It paints a deadly bull’s-eye on me—and on the Kings’ wedding of the year.
And when a face from the past threatens everything I hold dear, I have to hold on to Tyson and pray that we make it.
