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do you dress like that? Hmm? I know exactly why you do it. Because it turns men on. You dress like a fucking slut, showing off your cleavage and loads of skin because it gets us hard. And then what? You think you can just snatch that away from us when we give you a bit of attention?"
    "Yes we can," I scowled. "Because a woman has a choice. And I choose not to put up with this any longer, got it?"
    "I always get what I want," he growled, squeezing me too tightly for comfort.
    "Not this time," I replied. I brought my knee up swiftly between his legs, slamming him with all the force I had. I never understood why men were so quick to tell each other to "grow a set of balls" when they wanted to elicit masculinity or bravado. It's the weakest part of a man by far, the one area where any woman can immediately and literally bring a guy twice her size to his knees.
    "Ohhh, fuck…" he whimpered, his legs buckling. "You pretentious little bitch! You're going to regret that."
    "No she won't. But you will." The familiar voice came from directly behind him and it took me a moment to even comprehend what was happening as, without warning, my aggressor suddenly flew through the air backwards, slamming off the opposite wall and collapsing in a heap. "You okay, Kara?"
    I struggled to stop my face breaking out in the broadest of smiles as I looked at Ethan's beautiful face, his sparkling blue eyes staring at me with a mixture of concern and genuine affection. "Yes," I said. "More than okay."
    "Who the fuck are you?" Martin said, slowly rising to his feet. "Her bodyguard?"
    Ethan squared up to him, his muscular frame both delectable and imposing in a black Armani suit. "She doesn't need a bodyguard. She'd started kicking your punk ass before I even got here."
    "Do you have any idea who I am? We’ll see how tough you are with six security guards on you."
    Ethan placed a hand around Martin’s neck and squeezed, pushing him against the wall. "Go ahead, little piggy. Scream for them. What's the matter? Lost your voice?"
    His hands flailed at Ethan's wrist, unable to break the grip from around his throat. "Stop…you're…choking me…"
    "Very perceptive," Ethan said, releasing him. He slumped again to the floor, desperately catching his breath. Ethan kneeled down and slapped him across the face with the back of his hand. It was the ultimate humiliation; the ultimate loss of masculinity. To lose a fist fight is one thing; to be slapped with the back of another man's hand? He had broken him in an instant.
    "You like preying on women, you piece of shit. Everyone in Vegas knows about you. I'm the opposite. I worship women, adore them. I believe in giving them the respect and adulation they deserve. If you ever, ever touch another woman I care about, I swear to God I'll find out about it. Next time I won’t be so gentle with you. Understand?"
    He nodded, pathetic and defeated.
    "Come on, Kara. Let's go."
    He held out his hand and I took it willingly. "You came," I whispered. "I asked you to come and you did."
    As we headed out into the cool night air, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. "I wasn't going to let you down again. Or myself."

Chapter 7
     
    Kara
     
    There's an old saying that's always bugged me. Life is short .
    As I stood in my hotel bedroom with Ethan, I had one of those clarifying moments where I realized that simply isn't true. Life isn't short at all. It's more than long enough for all of the things that we want to do with it. The truth is, the vast majority of people spend all their days getting distracted – messing around on Facebook or sending pointless photographs of whatever dish of food they're eating to Instagram. These things are all just distractions, procrastination when you could be doing far more interesting, life affirming things.
    I learned this from my father. Not because he taught me, but because when he died he had so many regrets. He was diagnosed with lung cancer one January morning and by October of the