Miami Bodyguard

by Jennifer Ann

  “Miss Swanson,” Brie muses, giggling while batting her thick eyelashes Angie’s way. “Darlin’, you’ve been holdin’ out on me. This one’s tall, dark, handsome, and full of charm! Mind if I get his number?”

  Angie laughs it off without answering, instead twisting her arm through mine, and curling her fingers over my bicep. “We better get going. See you Monday, Brie.” She leads me away, waving at her costar over her shoulder. I get the impression she’s either paranoid about Brie getting too close to me, or maybe even jealous of what could happen if I took her up on the offer. “You can walk me to my dressing room. Have you already settled into your place?”

  “Pretty much,” I answer.

  Her perfect lips spread with a warm smile. “Good. I’ll take you out for dinner. I’m starving, and we usually don’t get done early enough to eat anywhere decent.”

  I pull her to a stop, shaking my head. Doesn’t she want to go home and rest after a long day? Didn’t it freak her out that someone on her crew got off on seeing her naked? “I’m being paid to shadow you, Ang. The whole point of me being here is to make sure you’re safe. You don’t have to treat me like a guest.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I want to take you out.” Her smile fades as her cheeks begin to flush. “Having dinner with an old friend beats eating alone.”

  Alone? Unacceptable. “What about your boyfriend?” The words come out more like an accusation than a question because I’m tired of wondering why the guy never seems to be around.

  “Theo had the day off, so he went down to the Keys for the weekend with some friends. It’ll just be you and me until we join him Saturday night.” Tugging on my arm, her warm smile returns. “Come on. There’s a restaurant down the block from our place that makes the best Pastelitos, and they’re done serving at ten.”

  In the end I agree to it, stoked to hear I’ll have her all to myself for 48 hours. If I had any say in the matter, I’d put off meeting her boyfriend indefinitely.

  5

  Angelina

  Asher doesn’t have a lot to say once we’re seated at Bella’s. The way his eyes are constantly taking everything in makes me paranoid. It’s like he’s looking for a threat or the nearest escape even though we’re one of five customers, and the restaurant isn’t much bigger than my living room.

  The situation with the camera operator seems to have shook him up more than he’s letting on. A small part of me worries he’s taking this job too seriously, and won’t be as much fun as the guy I knew in high school who was always teasing me and charmingly confident. The other 99% is inexplicably turned on by his new somber side.

  “Charlie told me your town car will be delivered tomorrow morning,” I say, tapping my fingers on a glass of water. “It’s perfect timing. We can spend the day checking out the highlights of the city.”

  Setting his elbows on the table, he holds onto his head like he’s working on a headache, eyes closed. “We need to talk about what happened today.”

  I sink into my chair and let out a long breath. By now I hardly pay any attention to the crew watching on while filming naked scenes, but this was the first time Brie and I had to film one with just the two of us. I was nervous already, so I’m thankful I didn’t realize Asher was watching until after the fact.

  At Eddie’s Fourth of July party a few weeks ago, Brie ambushed me with a kiss. Everyone knows she’s bisexual, and she claimed she was only trying to loosen me up for the upcoming season in which we’re expected to do a lot of kissing and touching, so I didn’t stop her. Still, I was uncomfortable. It only made me more anxious about resuming production. Having Asher around might make it worse. I’ll be needing more little helpers than ever to get through each day.

  I rummage through my purse under the table for another one of Theo’s pills. “What’s there to talk about? That’s the kind of thing you can expect if you’re going to come to the set every day.”

  “I don’t like all those people eyeing you naked. I don’t like knowing perverts are whacking off to you in their homes.”

  “Then you’ve wasted both of our time by moving down here.” I quickly pop the pill between my lips while Asher’s eyes are still shut, washing it down with my water. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m an adult now. And my fans are adults. If you can’t deal with what I do for a living, then this gig clearly isn’t for you. This show is all about pushing the boundaries of conventional sexuality.”

  Muscles and veins strained against his neck, his eyes draw up to meet mine. “What about that asshole operating the camera? It doesn’t bother you that he was stealing your panties? That goes far beyond what’s considered appropriate, even for adults. And what’s with the producer kissing you on the head?”

  I stab the ice in my water with the straw and shake my head. “That kind of thing is normal in this industry.”

  “If you’re talking about the underwear thing, I call bullshit. Your producer better be pressing charges against that clown. He shouldn’t be allowed to ever work on a set again. And what’s this about a woman being in your apartment the night of your premiere party? Is that considered ‘normal’ too?”

  Attacking my ice a little harder, my face warms with embarrassment. I didn’t know Charlie and Evelyn told him about my visitor that night. I’d rather die than tell Asher the truth.

  His fingers wrap around my wrist, stopping my nervous hand. “If this is the career you truly want, I’ll back you up a hundred percent. But you need to set some boundaries. Think hard about what you’re willing to do, Ang. I’m not going to standby and watch you sell yourself to Hollywood just so everyone knows your name.”

  “You think I’m selling myself?” I ask, jerking free of his hold. “I made a well-thought-out decision to be a part of this show because it was creating a buzz for potential awards long before production even started. The book it’s based on sold over a hundred million copies. Consumers are starving for a new kind of story that’s edgy, and a little bit cheeky. They’re tired of the same old billionaire-meets-timid-heroine bullshit. My character is bold, and doesn’t take shit from anyone. I saw it as a chance to finally be taken seriously for something other than my body. You’re making it sound like I’m a hooker.” I stop to flick away a few fallen tears. “Being a high-fashion model comes with a shelf-life. I was starting to reach mine. Were you hoping I’d admit defeat, and move back home to become a fucking bartender, earning minimum wage like you?”

  Stomach plunging, I hold my breath as Asher’s hands scrub over his face. God, that was way too low of a blow. I took the argument one step too far.

  Peering back at me through his hands, he heaves out a great sigh. “Fuck, Ang, that’s not at all what I was trying to say. I have mad respect for what you’re doing, and I’m proud of you for landing this role. I just don’t want you to lose yourself along the way.”

  Our waitress returns to take our order, her weary expression revealing that she heard too much. I shoot Asher an annoyed glare before ordering my usual.

  I should’ve known this wouldn’t work out.

  Asher makes a quick sweep of my apartment before wishing me goodnight. I hate the way our conversation ended at the restaurant. Once the argument was over, I was curt while he was polite as ever. On the short walk home, it was like neither of us had the energy to continue where we left off. There’s so much more that needs to be said, but I’m exhausted.

  After a long shower, I throw on a cami and shorts set before crawling into bed. The thousand dollar Egyptian cotton sheets I bought, hoping to erase all signs of my ex, do nothing to sooth me. I can’t seem to find a position that’s comfortable.

  The last week was filled with more ups and downs than the world’s mostly gnarly rollercoaster. Without a doubt, I’ve enjoyed seeing Asher again, even if he’s stubborn and too set in his Midwestern values. The thought of him leaving creates a hot ball of dread inside my chest. I have to do something before it’s too late.

  I slip outside onto my long balcony, resting my a
rms on the edge of the glass wall as I admire the bright moonlight spilling over the dark water. The chance to live near the ocean was what sealed the deal when I was first offered a gig by a Miami modeling agency. The planes of southern Minnesota always bored me to no end. Even spending time on one of the ten thousand lakes wasn’t ever fulfilling enough. Back home, everything was too safe, and too familiar. I craved something more. Something that would light a fire in my chest, and make me feel more alive.

  In Miami, I discovered all of that, and so much more. I immediately adored the chaos of the city. I fell madly in love with the lull of crashing waves, the scent of salt clinging to my hair, the colorful style of locals, the eclectic mix of cultures and cuisines, the art aspect of Wynwood, and the ability to grab a drink right by the water.

  Sadly enough, the beach was always my favorite part, and I stopped going soon after my first year of settling in. So much has changed since I moved down here as a naive teenager with the world at my disposal. It wasn’t long ago that I was planning to marry John, and have his children. Yet here I am, creeping up on thirty, and painfully alone.

  “I figured you’d be passed out by now,” a low voice rumbles from my right.

  From where I stand, I’m only able to see Asher’s folded hands dangling off the glass wall on his balcony. I’m instantly at peace knowing he’s near.

  Letting my shoulders fall, I let out a slow breath, and turn my eyes back to the water. “I’m too busy drowning in regret for what I said to you earlier.”

  “About the bartending thing?” He chuckles in a deep sound that warms my belly. “You weren’t wrong. I have yet to accomplish anything in my life that I can claim to be proud of. I’ve spent way too many years playing it safe. I just kind of fell into a comfortable routine, you know?”

  Humming, I say, “Sounds to me like you’re selling yourself short. You’re living a simple life the way everyone back home does. You have your own house. Most of the friends I’ve made down here either still live with their parents, or rent a shoe-box sized apartment.”

  He chuckles again, this time a lot louder. “They wouldn’t be so impressed if they actually saw my house…still needs a ton of work. It’s nothing compared to this place, that’s for damn sure. You have plenty to be proud of though. It’s noble that you came down here on your own, and worked your way up to this.” I see movement from the corner of my eye, and turn to find him leaning over the concrete partition between our units, staring me down with an intense look. “Trust me when I say I was not trying to compare you to a hooker.”

  My heart pounds so hard under his dark gaze that I can hardly breathe. “I believe you,” I blurt. And I do. No matter what he says, I was a bitch, and I owe him an apology. Even when we were a couple of high schoolers, he was always kind and thoughtful, incapable of cruelty—at least toward me. “Do you want to come over for a drink?”

  His jaw twitches as his playful expression becomes stone sober. “As long as you’re awake, I’m on the clock.”

  “Well then, I’m officially taking you off duty. I could use the company. And I won’t change my mind, so you better get your ass over here.”

  “Sure you’re not too tired?” He seems to be fighting against a little smile as he waits for my answer.

  My lips part, intending to say “no,” but he shifts and I’m given a view of his gorgeous body in nothing more than a pair of gym shorts. Bright, intricate tattoos cover his defined pecs, one continuing down a bulging bicep. I feel a twinge of jealousy when I notice a skull with a beautiful woman’s hair and eyes drawn in great detail. I want to inspect them closer, but I also don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or let on just how interested I’ve become in his sexy body. His abdomen is a wall of solid muscle, leading into one of those V’s guys like him possess that disappears beneath the low-slung shorts.

  And he’s hard. Beautifully, undeniably hard.

  Mouth bone-dry, I touch my throat with my fingertips.

  When our eyes meet again, his lips twist with a slow grin. It reminds me of the cocky way he reacted when I found him naked in my sister’s house.

  When I last caught him getting hard for me. He was so beautiful. So…thick.

  A spastic tremble zips through my thighs, soaking my panties. “I want you,” I say, stopping to wet my lips. “Here.”

  One of his eyebrows lifts. “You sure about that?”

  With my slow, confident nod, he throws me one last heated look before disappearing behind the partition.

  I dart back into my room, heart stuck in my throat as I search for my silk robe. Once again, I’ll be half-naked with Asher. This time, there won’t be anyone to interrupt us.

  All sorts of intense feelings stir up whenever he’s around. Most of all, I feel respected. Merely looking into his eyes reminds me of home, and all I left behind. Although he hasn’t been openly flirtatious like he was in New York, he wears his desire for me like a cologne. It’s always hanging in the air surrounding us.

  Am I ready to do this with him? The concept alone is unethical. Since I made it clear he’s off the clock, the second he steps foot inside my apartment it shouldn’t matter, right? It’ll change the dynamics anyway, that’s for sure. May even mess with our friendship, drawing lines that I’m not ready to cross. But we’re two consensual adults with needs.

  As I’m checking my damp hair in the mirror, wishing I had at least thrown on a little makeup, there’s a solid knock on the front door. I suppose if he’s not working, it would be presumptuous to use the code to let himself in, but I appreciate the effort either way. Giving my reflection one last sweep, noticing my nipples are already poking against my thin cami in anticipation, I decide to skip the robe. May as well make my intentions perfectly clear.

  The moment I connect with his dark green eyes, I launch myself into his arms, pressing my lips to his. They’re determined and powerful, mirroring mine with pure ardor. Arms wrapped around my waist, he drags me back inside the apartment, his needy mouth nudging my lips open to make way for his tongue. The strong muscle devours me, absorbing every crevice of my mouth while his hands start a journey of their own.

  I swear I’ve waited all my life to kiss Asher Waldorf. The teenage girl who recognized him as being sexy and popular screams in triumph, while Angelina Kendall the actress is reduced to a pile of quivering nerves and gasping breaths. It’s as hot as I had always imagined. Maybe even more so.

  We grind our bodies together in the middle of the living room as if dancing to our own melody. He’s as hard as concrete, and I’m as wet as the ocean roaring outside. I reach for his shorts, ready for him to relieve my tingling center. His thick fingers lock around my wrist.

  “This is a bad idea,” he pants, pressing his forehead against my cheek. “What about your boyfriend?”

  “Theo isn’t my boyfriend. Not really. It’s all just an act.”

  “I was hired to protect you. This is wrong.”

  I stroke his thick neck with my fingers. “Tell me you haven’t wanted this forever, and I’ll stop.” Laughing softly when he drops his chin and moans, I pull his bottom lip into my mouth, sucking hard before releasing it with a pop. “Tell me this doesn’t feel good, and I’ll go back to my room alone.” Then I reach into his shorts, brushing my thumb over the silky dome of his cock, and swirling his arousal over the taut skin. “Because I don’t want to stop. I’ve wanted you since that night in New York.”

  He reclaims my mouth with a passion so wild it’s borderline terrifying. We become a tangled web of desire, groping and tasting each other with years of pent-up tension coming to a head. After wrangling my cami over my damp mess of curls, he growls out something that sounds like “fucking perfect” before pulling one of my hard nipples into his mouth, then the other. I twist my fingers through his short hair, pressing kisses to the top of his head while he’s sucking and licking, worshipping my breasts like a man possessed.

  You make me feel desired, I think to myself, cradling his head. “I want you, Ash. P
lease…we’ve waited too damn long for this moment.”

  With my request, he drops to his knees, removing my shorts and underwear with one swift tug. There’s no time to catch my breath when he starts kissing the center of my bundled nerves. At first his lips are soft, then his fingers join in. Soon he’s making hot, wild love to me with his mouth. It’s not what I meant, but there’s no way I’m going to ask him to stop. He’s a bonafide professional, applying the right amount of pressure to make me lose my mind.

  I dig my fingernails into his warm skull, wavering on my feet with the rush of an oncoming climax. His other hand grips onto my bare ass, holding me in place like he senses I’m on the verge of falling. Breathing heavily, I focus on the sensations swirling through me until I’m dangling over the edge of sanity, dangerously close to shattering.

  When he finally wrangles an orgasm from my electrified body, I come and come, completely out of my wits as if I’ve been catapulted to another planet. As I’m returning from the blissful high, I’m vaguely aware of his body pressed to mine when he carries me back to my bedroom, pressing soft kisses against my face the entire way.

  Then I’m on my back in bed, his giant frame looming over me. And he’s gloriously naked, his heavy cock bobbing between us in all its glory. Damn, he’s beautiful everywhere.

  But the way he’s looking down on me makes me want to cry for some reason. It’s like he’s sad, and maybe even a little confused. Worst of all, I fear he’s already regretting what we’re about to do. And I have no words of comfort, no promise to sooth his fears.

  While rubbing his thigh, I use my other hand to point at the nightstand. “Condoms are in the drawer.”

  “You’re absolutely sure you want this?” he asks again.

  I nod, not wanting to think about it any longer. Even though I’m not in an actual relationship with Theo and the words “I love you” or possessive labels have never been uttered, are we technically “together?”