The sun was burning hot in Italy, expensive wine, fancy restaurants, a private yacht. I could lie and say I’m here to protect you—from fans, paparazzi, potential stalkers, but that would be just a cover-up. I’m here because of you, in a different way, not only to guard your body, but to pleasure it as well.

We’ve always had a tension between us since I started working for you. I know, I know, a typical pop star and her bodyguard cliché. We never acted on it, though. You were in a relationship, and I always told myself I didn’t have time for one, and that dating my boss would be wrong. But around seven months ago, you broke up with your actor boyfriend, and two months ago, we crossed the line. I didn’t even have time to think when your lips landed on mine, and I ended up in your bathroom. I did regret it a bit.

Now I’m on a private yacht: just you, me, and some staff. I finish applying sunscreen to your body, which looks absolutely sinful in that small swimsuit.

“C’mon, Harry,” you smile softly, dragging me off the yacht into the clear blue water.

I follow you in, the water a welcome contrast to the burning sun above. It swirls around us, cool and inviting, but it does nothing to chill the fire that’s been simmering between us for months now, especially not with you this close, laughing, droplets glistening on your skin like diamonds.

You flick some water at me, and I grab your wrist, pulling you closer. Your breath hitches just slightly, so subtle anyone else would’ve missed it, but I don’t. I know the sounds you make. I know your body better than I should.

“Careful, baby,” I murmur, my voice low. “You keep teasing me like that, and I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to be responsible.” You wrap your arms around my neck and pull me closer.

“You know there’s a paparazzo right on the hill taking pictures of our every move?” I brush the wet hair sticking to your cheek away.

“So? I’m not ashamed of you.” My heart jumps as the words leave your lips.

“But you know what they’ll say…” You don’t let me finish.

“They’ll be saying shit about me whatever I do,” you say, and I know you’re right. “So let me just be the reckless one and enjoy us.” You smile softly, and I grin at you.

“Reckless, huh? You wanna be reckless, love?” My hands go to squeeze your ass underwater, and you gasp, but there’s a gleam in your eye that tells me you like it. That you’ve wanted this. Craved it.

“Harry,” you whisper half warning, half breathless laugh, as your fingers tighten around my neck.

“Yeah?” I ask, voice husky, my lips brushing the shell of your ear as I pull you flush against me under the water. “You don’t get to call me that like it’s innocent, not when you’re wrapped around me like this.”

Your legs loop around my waist, and suddenly it doesn’t matter that we’re in the open sea, that a camera might be snapping away from some distant cliff, or that this, us, was never supposed to happen.

“Let’s get back on the boat,” I say against your neck, voice thick as I nod my head to the ladder, “before I forget how to be a gentleman.”

You smirk, trailing your fingers down my chest. “You already forgot, babe… besides, I like a little water play.”

Oh God, woman. The things you do to me.

“You’re a little minx, honey, you know that?” I gently kiss your jawline as my hands grip your ass tighter.