Surrendering to the Bodyguard

by Asha Daniels

  He grunted as he ate her, his mouth and tongue working together. His slid his fingers beside his tongue, thrusting them inside, pumping in and out.

  “Yes. Yes!” Jasmine blinked, trying to focus as she moaned, the sound becoming guttural. The man was driving her insane.

  Lifting his head, he licked his lips in an exaggerated fashion as he continued driving his fingers deep inside, flexing them open. “Are you enjoying this?”

  “Yes… Yes, sir.” The second he removed his fingers, she braced, bucking her body, craving the anguish.

  Smack! Pop!

  This time, he smacked both of her inner thighs.

  Crack! Pop!

  Her ass cheeks.

  Slap! Whack!

  Then her pussy.

  Tears slid past her lashes and she tossed her head back and forth. “I… I’m going to come.” Her statement was almost inaudible.

  Crack! Smack!

  He smacked her ass again and leaned over, nipping her right nipple. “No, you won’t.” Pressing his lips against her chest, he mouthed her skin, sliding down further, further until he reached her pussy once again.

  This time, the moment he gathered her legs into his arms, she gripped the edge of the counter, wiggling, undulating as she attempted to hold back her climax. Breathing out, she panted in slow bursts, trying to concentrate on anything else.

  But the pleasure was too intense. Delicious.

  Cutter moved his head from side to side, his tongue swirling in lazy circles, his lips pressed against her cunt lips.

  “Please!” Unsure begging would work, she arched her back and knew she could hold back no longer. “Oh, I…”

  A long breath pushed past his lips as she came, and he held her down, pushing her legs against the counter, his mouth never leaving her pussy.

  The orgasm turned into a violent wave and she was shaking, perspiration sliding down both sides of her face, her legs twitching. Nothing had ever felt so damn good.

  He waited until she stopped trembling then lifted his head, his eyes laced with lust. “Very bad girl.”

  “I’m… sorry,” she managed and dropped her arms, her body going slack. She was worn out, drenched with sweat.

  “I don’t know what to do with you.”

  Before she could answer, she heard what had to be his cell phone.

  Cutter eased her legs down and helped her to her feet. “I need to get that.” He walked out of the room, taking long strides.

  Jasmine struggled to stand and turned off the water, trying to listen to what he was saying. After a few seconds, the curiosity got the better of her and she padded toward the door, hovering just inside the kitchen.

  “We’re fine, Jeff. Did you get my earlier message?” Cutter paced back and forth.

  She could tell he was agitated.

  “I don’t care what the FBI thinks. What do you mean? What happened?” Cutter groaned and darted a look at his phone. “You’re breaking up. Are you certain? I can’t believe that. Doesn’t fit.”

  She craned her neck. What was going on?

  Cutter snorted. “Way too easy, Jeff. What about the information…”

  Blip!

  “Fuck!” he yelled.

  The lights went out, pitching them into total darkness.

  Another round of terror rushed into her system.

  Chapter 10

  Cutter glared at the black screen, a damning sensation pooling in the pit of his stomach. His instinct on high alert, he reached for his gun, crouching down, anticipating a forced entrance. Everything else was as before. The storm was the cause. Almost as soon as the power went off, the phone service went dead. He listened to the howling wind and moved with stealth like precision toward the front of the house, peering out through the blinds, keeping away from the window. Damn it. He hated this shit.

  “Cutter?”

  Hearing Jasmine’s voice, the fear, he stiffened. “We’re fine. Just the storm. I anticipated we’d lose power.” He was unable to tell anything about the storm, but the power loss had to be a direct result of the wind. Damn.

  “Was that Mr. Gammon?” She crept inside the room. “On the phone?”

  “Yes, confirming several details.” He wasn’t ready to accept what the man had said, nor was he certain that he wanted to tell her. If what Jeff said was true, they didn’t have anything to worry about.

  Then why was his gut churning?

  “Details? Tell me. Please. I have a right to know.”

  Yes, she did, but what he’d heard coming through the phone lines he needed to process. Leaving the window, he shoved the phone into his back pocket and headed in her direction. He could tell she was fixated on the pistol and slipped it back in place. “The call was interesting.”

  “Interesting? What’s wrong?” Folding her arms, she came and stood by the fire.

  He exhaled and walked closer, yanking a piece of wood from the stack and tossing it onto the licking flames. As the embers crackled, he couldn’t help but wonder whether his lack of belief had more to do with his desire to spend time with Jasmine. “They caught the guy who’s been threatening you.”

  “What?” She inched closer.

  The way she moved, as if questioning her very being drew him in, as it had done from the moment he laid eyes on her. A girl pushing hard to be a confident woman. He was drawn into her web, the knowing unsettling in a heart forged from anguish. How could he become the man she needed? Nodding, he studied the flames, the way they were licking up over the dense wood, creating a hissing sound. The wood was too green, but still burned.

  Much like the unsettling in his heart.

  “The FBI made an arrest and no, I don’t have any details other than the name of the perp.”

  “Who?” she whispered the question.

  He twisted his head, trying to capture her eyes. The knowing would forever haunt her, as if she should have realized. As if she had the kind of armor capable of keeping her out of a monster’s grasp. “Johnny Falk.”

  You’re the monster.

  The thoughts were true enough.

  Taken aback, she clamped her mouth shut before slapping her hand across her lips. Tears welled into her eyes, yet she looked away. Was she fearful of allowing him to see her vulnerability?

  “He must have hired someone to handle the shooting. He certainly knew you well enough, including your email address and phone number to be able to do the job. I would guess he thought he had an ironclad alibi since he was on stage at the time of the shooting.” Clenching his fist, he should comfort her. He needed to console her, a lover’s touch. What the hell did he understand about love?

  “I don’t believe it. I really don’t,” she insisted, her lower lip trembling. “Why would he hurt me? Why?”

  “I don’t have an answer,” he half whispered, his thoughts drifting. “But you had your reservations before.”

  “I did, but I’ve thought this through. Johnny and I have a lust and hate relationship, but no matter how much he hated giving up the spotlight to a girl, we are topping the charts. The money is flowing and trust me, the man is all about money. Fame. Fortune. He lives for the limelight, no matter how it’s achieved.”

  There was so much anger in her statement, a heightened level of frustration. Cutter heard what she was saying, but without any details, he had no way of confirming truth from fabrication. Especially not with the goddamn power having shut down. “We won’t know anymore until the morning. I don’t think leaving tonight is in our best interest. I suggest we get some sleep and we can head out in the morning.”

  She didn’t respond or move for several seconds. Then she placed her hand on his arm. “Can’t we pretend that we’re still in danger? Can’t we stay here for a few more days? What we’ve shared is amazing. I just…” Groaning, it was as if her words would never be taken seriously.

  Hearing the angst, the love in her voice was almost too much for him to bear. There’d been too many mistakes and many of them squarely his responsibility. “We have
to go back. Your father will want to see you. The FBI will have additional questions. There will need to be a press conference with your band and you need to get back to your life.”

  “An interrogation,” she scoffed.

  He hesitated before answering. “Yes.” The silence shoved a dagger into his heart.

  “But you’ve become a part of my life. Don’t you know that?”

  His heart was thumping, creating echoes in his ears. “I know, baby. I know.” Even using the endearing word cut through him, but she needed to hear, to know he wasn’t… He had no idea how to finish the thought. “Come here.” Taking her into his arms, he held her against his chest, rubbing his hand up and down her back. She molded into his body, fitting in a way that created heat, burning desire, but so much more. He’d only wanted to keep her safe, to make certain that she was well protected. Now?

  All he wanted to do was take her away from the rest of the world. But this wasn’t his choice nor hers. They were only together because of the assignment.

  She nuzzled against his chest. “One more day.”

  Clenching his eyes shut, he wished he could promise her the world, but reality would settle in and she’d forget about him as she should. “Let’s see if we can figure out dinner and sit by the fire. Okay?”

  Pulling back, she gazed into his eyes. “Spending your life with me isn’t going to happen. I’m not what you need.”

  “That’s not it at all. What I need and what I must have are different. My world isn’t like yours. My responsibilities are—”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m a singer. Nothing special. You have an important job to do.” She looked away after interrupting.

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Whatever.”

  Even in the shadowed light, he could see her lower lip trembling. He was so broken, so unsure of how to move forward.

  “But you know what hurts the most?” she managed.

  “What?”

  “That you can’t trust my judgment.”

  Cutter sighed. “I do more than you know.”

  * * *

  Cutter held her against his chest, rubbing her hair gently as she slept, curled up tightly in his arms. He remained on edge, listening to the creaking sounds of the trees, watching the shadows as the limbs dipped and swayed. They’d settled by the fire, huddled together under a blanket, pillows strewn everywhere. She trusted his protection. He prayed for salvation. For a few seconds, he envisioned the future, a real thought of even dating her, but after what they’d shared, the concept seemed almost trite. They both wanted more.

  His needs would forever contain darkness. Hers were filtered with light. The contradiction was explosive.

  Antsy, he crept back, easing her head down on the pile of pillows and crawled backward. He was far too set in his ways to accept any difference. He struggled into his boots and slipped the gun into his waistband. Jasmine hated the Glock, was fearful of the meaning. At least he’d gotten through to her. The same eerie feeling had secured a place in the pit of his stomach, gnawing at his insides, digging and clawing to find the truth. The way Jeff had sounded on the phone was stiff, stilted. Yes, the connection hadn’t been the best, but he could swear there was something Jeff wasn’t telling him.

  He went over the conversation in his mind a fifth time, trying to piece out the various words, the way in which his friend and mentor had issued them. What had Jeff said exactly that was so troubling? The suspect had been caught as determined by the FBI. What the fuck did that mean? If he was a betting man, he’d slam all the cards down on this hand.

  Jeff was flat out lying.

  Clank!

  The metallic scraping drew his attention. Coming from the backyard and close to the house, he realized there were no trees close or massive enough to slap against the gutters or roof in the direction of the sound. He took a quick glance to make certain she was sleeping before grabbing his coat and boots. There was no reason to draw any attention at this point.

  After scanning the room, the intense shadows, he moved into the kitchen. The single lit candle was just enough for him to find a flashlight and slide in fresh batteries. All the while, he continued to think about what Jeff had said. He slid into the outdoor gear, determined to be prepared for whatever he found. After testing the beam, he walked to the set of French doors. Every move methodical, he cracked open the door, peering outside. There was no moon, no glimmer of light.

  There were plenty of ominous shadows, the slithering forms creeping around the woodpile, the base of every tree. This location wouldn’t have been his first choice.

  Easing outside, he allowed the latch to click and checked to make certain the door was locked. If the attacker wanted to get inside, there was little standing in his way, even with locked doors and windows. Inhaling, he could detect no outward signs of gasoline or gun power. He stood in the same spot, waiting until his eyes were accustomed to the darkness. Then his training was firmly in place. His eyes swept the area, his instinct on overdrive. Snow covered the deck and railings, but there were only a couple of inches at most, even though the snow was falling rapidly. By morning, there would be several inches on the ground. Snow and ice was beneficial in being a deterrent but also covered up any recent tracks.

  In his mind, the perp had easy access, no matter the condition of the surrounding terrain.

  You will die…

  The words of the attacker lingered in the back of his mind. A death threat took the level of the perpetrator to a heightened state. A guitar player? Even if Johnny had paid a hired gun, a plant in the audience at the concert, the entire set up was not the norm for someone ready to commit murder. Not in his experience. Emails could be far too easy to track to a computer. Even using a burner phone, there were methods of pinging off the closest cell towers. Was Johnny Falk this brazen? Not a chance. Everything was premeditated. What the hell was he missing?

  The wind continued to howl, and his body was frigid, the chill slipping under the parka to his naked skin. He needed to check the area and get back inside, keeping Jasmine safe. Blinking, he could just make out the rickety steps. The moment he stepped on them, the slight creaking seemed to echo in the dense air.

  Walking down and onto the snow, he pulled out the flashlight, flipping the switch. When he shined the beam across the area, he could see nothing that drew his attention. There were no footprints anywhere, no indication that a person or animal had crossed over the terrain.

  Click!

  The sound of metal against metal didn’t come from nature. Pulling out the gun, he removed the safety and held both the Glock and the flashlight in both hands. Hunkering over, he moved in a stealth like formation, going toward the front, every step positioned carefully. Peering around the side, he could see nothing indicating the source of the noise. He crouched down further, hugging the side of the cabin as he headed around to the front.

  Craning his neck, he darted his head around the side. Was there a flash of light just ahead? His eyesight was 20/20 and he knew what he was seeing. There was a person hiding in the woods, watching the house. Fuck! He took a few additional steps then paused and listened.

  Clank. Tink!

  The instinct confirmed, hair on the back of his neck stood up. He swung the beam and could just made out a form. Not on his watch. There was no time for second guessing. This was the end game. Moving into a full run, he raced in the direction of the noises, jumping over shrubs and fallen limbs. Dipping down, the distinct sound of someone running, crunching the snow could be heard over the howling wind. His mind reeling, he took off again, his adrenaline thumping, his heart racing.

  The motherfucker wasn’t going to get away with this. Whoever had been on the property had turned off the light, moving quickly into the darkness, the tree line facing the front of the house.

  Cutter remained low as he ran, weaving back and forth, doing his best to stay low to the ground. But he was a target. And so was Jasmine. While everything inside the man screamed to get back to t
he house, get her the hell out of here, the trained professional, the one with the license to kill knew exactly what he was required to do.

  Hunt down the asshole.

  Pop!

  The single gunshot whizzed by him. While not unexpected, he wouldn’t have believed the attacker was ready to tip his hand. Were they getting desperate?

  He dropped to the ground and rolled, fearful the shooter would pepper a series of gunshots. Panting, he waited for five seconds before jumping to his feet. Snow hit him in the face as the storm hit full on, blinding him. But he continued, stopping every few seconds to listen.

  Pop! Pop!

  Damn it. The shots were closer. He was gaining on the asshole. He slid behind a tree and flashed the beam in an arc. The single gunman was running, cutting back and forth.

  Aiming his gun, he got off two rounds then fell to his knees. The pinging sound indicated a ricochet, the shot banking off a tree. He counted to five and took off again. He was getting even closer, the crunch of the snow louder. Anger rushed into every cell, driving him to an enraged state, his thoughts shifting to his training.

  He would track this motherfucker down and kill him.

  After several seconds of running, he heard nothing but the wind, the blowing snow. He bent over, catching his breath. He had a feeling he knew where the asshole was going. The road. He would have parked on the side and trekked through the woods. Had he stopped the jerk before he got to the house? No doubt.

  He took off running again, this time going to the left and cutting a diagonal through the forest. His legs were pumping, and he kept low, turning off the beam, feeling his way through the darkness.

  Crack!

  Jerking around to the right, he popped off another round, the thudding sound indicating he’d hit his mark. He wiped the snow out of his eyes and continued moving. If he could get to the road first, he might be able to stop the monster. He knew he was close. So damn close.

  Bam!

  The shot took him down face first into the snow. Cutter bit back a moan and shifted, trying to crawl to safety behind a tree. Pressing his hand over his arm, he huffed. The bullet had grazed his shoulder. I’m coming for you, motherfucker.