by Kendall Duke
“Room four,” he said quietly. He was watching me, but I still couldn’t tell what was going on in that head of his. He reached across the counter and handed me a toothbrush, ear plugs, toothpaste, and an eye mask. “Just in case,” he said. “I figured you would be really tired, and wouldn’t want any interruptions.”
“Ah, but you never know,” I said, and gave him what I hoped was a flirty eyebrow wiggle. “I have a date with a Hallmark hunk. That is, if I still have permission to watch Netflix.”
“Screen is on the wall,” he said, his mouth a firm line. Eh, well, that joke fell flat then. “Password is… I’ll text it to you. Miss.”
Miss again. “Thank you again Jacob,” I said, giving him a small wave and dropping the act. “For everything.”
He nodded, just once, his eyes burning into mine. I turned towards the long wall of doors and found number four.
I was asleep in ten minutes.
~~~
Jacob
There are a few things everyone with common sense knows about the security business. A few of them are just general rules for life, like: no second locations. Aim for the eyes. You are not the police; don’t get it twisted. But there is one that supersedes all the rest, for everyone, no matter what business you’re in: don’t fuck your boss.
There’s ways to dress that up a little nicer, like ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you,’ and cruder ways as well, I suppose, but I kept getting caught on that last one, because I did want to fuck my boss. I wanted to bite her hand, her throat, her nipples, the meat of her ass just before I sank so deep inside of her that I could look down on the teeth marks I made in her flesh when I came. I wanted Kayla like I’d never wanted anything before. I wanted her so badly I could taste it, right there, on the tip of my tongue: all the words I couldn’t say.
Would you open those long legs for me, Miss, so I can look at the sweetest little pink pussy in the entire world? Would you bend over so I can caress your wet, swollen lips with one hand, maybe tease your ass while I stroke myself, then press against the hole? Would you mind saying my name a few times for me while I fuck you, harder, and harder, while I spread you open and cum in every part of you while you beg for more?
Just wondering. No need to clock me in for overtime.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, feeling sick after eating all that bread and staring at the same page in the book in my hand for the thirtieth time. I hadn’t been able to sleep, so I gave up and came back to the common room. I was sleeping in Rocket’s room—he had the biggest bed, of course—and fighting the urge to stick my head in my own, just to check on her. Promise. I kept telling myself that was weird, that I knew for a fact there was no way she was unsafe here, and I just wanted to spy on her, and this basically made me as bad as all of the fuckers she needed to get away from… But I was not doing a good job dissuading myself, somehow. Sheer willpower was required not to get up, open that door, and go inside.
And then sink my cock into her to the hilt, kissing those full lips and asking if she knew what that smile could do to a man….
See? Given what she’d been through: fucking creepy.
She was only eighteen. I could just imagine what was going on in her head; I wondered why the guys let me think this was a good idea. I had, I’d been sure this was the safest place for her, and maybe that was true… Except that I’d locked her in with a permanent hard-on that was desperate not to fuck up his job.
Or her head. That really bothered me too.
If there was even a chance… If Kayla had come out of my room, clad in next to nothing, crawled onto my lap and whispered in my ear that she needed me to fuck her, I still needed to say no. I needed to strap my fucking dick to my leg, and then say no. Because how could she—or I—ever trust that this was a genuine choice, given how fucked up her relationships were right now? If she’d had a decent step-father and the usual retinue of creepy dudes sending her weird letters from afar, maybe I… Okay, if the circumstances were clear of creepiness, I would probably still make it weird by proposing to her just after we slept together, because the truth was that I didn’t just want to fuck my boss. I was pretty sure I was falling for her. Hard.
People like her should come with warnings.
Too Good to be True—except I am. Dangerous Curves Ahead, and I don’t just mean my incredible figure; I mean I’m smarter than you, and will outwit you for the first time in your fucking life every time we speak. Speed Limit 70 miles an hour, except for when I throw a wrench in your engine and spin you out. You should probably drive a little slower. Didn’t you see the sign about my curves?
I could easily see myself with Kayla forever. I didn’t give two shits about her popstar status, her money, and I was a little repulsed by her fame, to be honest; I adored Kayla. I wanted to cherish her, to kiss every inch of her body, to be there for her any time she needed me with anything she needed, to make her laugh and hear her husky voice as she sassed me about everything I thought or did. I wanted to give her someone to trust. I wanted to love her.
So I needed to back the fuck off.
I checked in with the guys, but didn’t share my dilemma; they would have given me endless amounts of shit about it, but supported whatever I did, as stupid as it might have been. But I didn’t want to let them down. I knew if I started something with Kayla, our first serious client, I’d fuck up things for everybody. Especially if that eighteen year old with the face of an angel and the body of a dancehall queen and, let’s not forget, a couple mill sitting in the bank, decided she wanted a new adventure after a while. Then we’d all be out of a job, and the split probably wouldn’t go well… Because I’d be heart-broken. I can admit it.
I’d never been serious about a girl, which I figure was a good thing, since I was losing it like a fucking freshman with a new subscription to X-Tube. I didn’t even understand my own mind. But I was glad I was only going to go through this once, and most of it would be in my head, both the relationship and the inevitable break-up. The after-shocks in my life as the contract ended and I lost contact with this incredible woman, all because I couldn’t shut my mouth and keep my pants zipped.
I’d just have to enjoy the scent she left in my bed. Everyone was gone, she could’ve slept anywhere, but I’d allowed myself that small satisfaction. Just that one. And my bed was really fucking nice.
I tried to read my book again, then looked up when I heard a clicking noise. I checked the clock; it was five o’clock in the afternoon, and I’d been awake for thirty hours. I should be crashed out, absolutely zonked. Instead, I was completely wired. “Kayla?”
She opened the door the rest of the way and walked outside with a bashful look on her face.
I had to take a minute before I could stand up.
I’d heard her in the shower—shortest one ever, by the way, that a woman had taken in my presence—and then nothing, so I guessed she was in that lovely dreamspace that I should’ve been myself. What I hadn’t guessed is that she’d stripped out of the ridiculous costume she’d been wearing for hours, covered in spandex and sequins, and gotten in to one of my t-shirts. It hit her about mid-thigh and slid down one shoulder, exposing an exquisite collarbone. Her hair was swept up in a messy ponytail and she wasn’t wearing any make-up.
I realized I was staring at her and caught my breath, forcing my heart-rate down. I’d never seen anything in my entire life so beautiful.
“Hi,” she said, sounding shy. “I hope this is alright?” She gestured vaguely to the shirt, and waited until I realized I was supposed to say something.
“It’s fine, Miss.”
She scowled at me. “Can we not? Please, Jacob.”
I thought for a moment, trying to figure out a way to say enough of what I needed to without giving away too much or making her uncomfortable. “I… I need the barrier, Miss. It gives me some distance from the situation.”
She walked towards me and settled on the arm of the couch. I felt my heart stop when she crossed her legs, the scowl n
ever leaving her face. “What situation?”
“This situation,” I said, managing to stop myself just in time from gesturing between us, like some tongue-tied frat boy. Although that was definitely the problem, that couldn’t be the one I mentioned. “I work for you,” I said dumbly, as if she’d somehow forgotten.
“Yes,” she said, and sighed, slipping down the arm of the couch until she was resting on the cushions. She stretched her long legs out on the floor and her shirt rode alarmingly high on those tanned dancer’s thighs. “If I fire you, can you stop? For like a day or two?” Her eyes twinkled. “I mean, I need you—I’d hire you back, right away, with a few small changes in our contract.”
“Mmm.” I did not like any of this.
“I just need, maybe three days without being a ‘miss,’ Jacob,” she said suddenly, her eyes locking on mine. “I’d never take your job for that, I’d never risk the livelihood of people I respect. But seriously… I know I pay you for safety.” She broke my gaze and stared down at her lap, and once again I was horrified to see a tear drop from the corner of her eye. “But what I really need right now is a friend.”
I sat perfectly still, trying to lower my heartbeat. This couldn’t possibly be a common situation; most of the guys I knew in personal security felt ambivalent at best about their charges, and some of them were disgusted by them. It came with the territory. We weren’t paid to guard field doctors and orphans. We were paid by the very wealthy, a feat which usually entailed a moral compass that inevitably pointed to the low road.
But Kayla was unique. Unbearably beautiful, talented, hard-working… Funny, humble, kind. Honest. She was… She was perfect. I didn’t have anyone I could call and ask what to do in this situation.
Fuck.
“Kayla, look,” I said, and there was so much hope in her eyes I almost didn’t continue. I was about to ruin everything. “Maybe… I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
“Why?”
“I… Or maybe I could have if I sent you with a couple of the other guys.” Nope, then she would be protected by someone else, and the mere thought made my knuckles whiten. Anyway. Details. “I shouldn’t… I think this is the last time I can work with you.” Her face paled. “We have a contract, and everyone else is more than qualified—I’m not just saying that because I’m worried you’ll cancel it and we’ll all be out of work, although, seriously, please don’t, because we will—I’m just… I’m not the right guy for the job.”
“Why?” Her lip was trembling. Fuck.
Fuck.
“Because I can’t be your friend and your guard at the same time,” I told her, trying hard not to let how upset I was invade the cadence of my speech, making me sound like I was brushing her off. I was not. “I can’t—”
“Why?” She was staring at me now with those beautiful eyes, those ridiculously lovely almond shaped eyes, her lashes free of mascara and still so long and black that they fluttered like butterflies when she blinked. “Jacob?”
“Because…” I had no idea what to say. I sat back down, closed my eyes and rubbed my temple with my fingers, trying to focus.
But when I opened them, she was standing right in front of me.
She’d silently gotten up from the couch and come over, her lithe body now inches from my face. Kayla reached down and lifted my chin with her slim hands, forcing me to look up at her. Her expression was… Nervous. “Jacob?”
I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say, and her proximity blew all the thoughts out of my mind anyway. I swallowed, and knew my arousal would be evident the second she looked down; my pupils were dilating, I was sure, and if she didn’t back up there was a good chance I was going to pull her down to me.
She didn’t back up.
Kayla gazed down at me for a long moment, then very carefully twisted her body to the side and sat down on my lap. She gave me a bit of room, her legs dangling to one side, down more towards my knees than my hips; I fought off the urge to spin her the other way and open her thighs, pinning her under me on the floor.
She didn’t need that.
More than anything else, this realization dragged me back to reality. I gathered my breath and forced the words out of my chest. “Kayla, you’re right—you need a friend. And I’m not your friend. I don’t feel that way about you. The things you need right now… I hoped you could chill out here and recover from what happened, maybe find a way to feel better about the world again, and then maybe… Maybe feel better about men, their intentions, the relationship you’d like to have with one…”
“You think that because my step-dad was a creep, I don’t want to be with anyone right now?”
“I don’t think you can be. Not really. You might…” I swallowed again, the disappointment in my heart ringing true. “You might think you can, but seriously, how could you? How could anybody? It just—”
“My step-father was not my role model for relationships,” Kayla said, staring into my eyes. “He was what my mother chose to recover from the end of her real relationship—the one with my dad.” I was struck silent; I wasn’t sure how much of this she wanted to talk about. The events were common knowledge, but that didn’t mean anything. “My father was an amazing person,” she said, smiling a little bit. “Best musician in Nashville—everybody said so. Best lyricist, best harmonizer, best guitar player. And he and my mom had a love story that… Most people could only dream about the bond they had.” She sighed. “It’s true that my father was mentally ill, and that he took his own life. It’s true that it devastated my mom, and when she was diagnosed a couple months later, our life felt really hopeless. But just because someone does that—this horrible betrayal, this painful, awful rip in my life that just won’t ever go away—doesn’t erase who they were. And my father loved my mother. He was just very sick. I’ve forgiven him, and I love him, and I appreciate what he taught me about love. I don’t need Todd,” she said, frowning at me, “to take away anything else… Especially a chance at love for myself.” She bit her lip, looking up at me. “I’m not afraid to try. I… I’d like to try.”
“I just…”
“Jacob…” Her sweet fingers were so warm, the pads of her fingers resting on my cheekbones. She stroked me with her thumbs, and I had to fight the urge to close my eyes. “If you really don’t like me, that’s okay. You’re an incredible security officer.” She smiled at me, though it wasn’t mischievous; it was a little guarded, a little sad. “I get it if you don’t want to do this for your own reasons, and if that’s the case then I apologize for sitting on you. But…” She blinked, licking her lips, and I felt my heart stop. “If you like me even half as much as I like you, could we just… Can you trust me? I know myself.”
“What happens if you’re wrong?”
“I told you. You’re great at your job—I think… I can be mature enough to work with you, even if the realistic outcome is that other members of the team would be doing more of the hands-on kind of stuff.” My gut clenched. Nobody else was doing any hands-on stuff with her.
I kissed her.
She was right there, so supple, so sweet—her lips were inches away from mine, her warm fingers still touching my face. I couldn’t have stopped myself, even if I’d wanted to. And I didn’t.
~~~
Kayla
Wow. Wow! I got it—I’d written songs about being kissed before, and heard a million more besides, but I’d never, never known they could feel like that.
“You just made me a better song-writer,” I said, and for some reason that made Jacob laugh, that laugh I loved, the one where his eyes popped open in surprise and his mouth curved up in the most delicious smile I’d ever seen. “You are so handsome,” I said, and then blushed, because I hadn’t really meant to say it out loud. I’d only had five hours of sleep or so. I wasn’t prepared to be cool, just honest. Painfully, embarrassingly honest.
Jacob took a deep breath and I settled on his lap, studying his face up close. Two dimples—that’s what it was, that’
s what made that smile so painfully bright. He had deep dimples in each cheek, but you could only see them when he turned it on full blast. His eyelashes were copper at the end, black at the stem, and when he grew in a beard it would probably be copper too. His eyes had one fine, dark ring of navy around the wide, ethereal blue of his iris. I realized I was now openly staring at him and looked down at my lap.
This time his hands came to rest on my face, and drew me back to look at him some more.
They were cool to the touch; not cold, not clammy, but cool, as if the skin were so padded by the callouses on them that the heat of his blood couldn’t get through. He pulled my face to his again, those lovely eyes lidded as his lips sought mine, and I sank into the kiss. This one was… Everything.
Words don’t come close. It actually made me want to sing.
When I started to come up for air this time, I felt his lips slide along my jaw as he cradled cheek, then move lower, towards my neck. I held my breath, feeling him tease my collarbone and then, as his lips trailed back up to my ear, his hands were moving on my body.
No one had ever touched me before, not like this. Not in the heat of the moment. I felt my heart start to race as he very, very slowly slipped his hands down, down, down, then worked his way back up, just the very tips of his fingers grazing my anklebone, my calf, my knee… My thigh…
“Wait—” I was so turned on I shivered, unable to control myself, and bit my lip. My body felt… Strange. As if a lightswitch were turned on somewhere inside of me, a power grid designed specifically for this moment. “Jacob…” He was leaning away from me, his eyes wary now, as if he expected me to say something cruel or unkind. “Oh no—no, please don’t think that… Whatever you’re thinking.”