I had so many unanswered questions. Where was my security at the night club? How did Brack know I was there? My answers unfortunately had to wait. With the police and my father in the same vicinity, the press swarmed like bees.
To top things off, I stood in an indecent dress with no underwear and Brack’s shirt wouldn’t button. And, I don’t know why my brain was going there, but if I hadn’t swallowed, I’d probably have cum in my hair. We looked like a hooker and her john.
I watched Brack talk with my father completely at ease in his state of dress, or undress actually. Brack calmly answered my father’s questions about the new security measures taken in the past twenty-four hours to protect me. Brack knew every detail of what was going on. Yep, the man had better have some good answers for me when I got him alone.
“Maybe you should change your clothes, Olivia,” my father said with a tight politically correct smile.
Hah! I knew that tone. “I’ll only be a moment,” I said as I turned around on my slutty heels and left the living room. I put on panties, jeans, bra, and a t-shirt. When I walked back into the room, Brack was telling my father about the attack on Mack.
“He used a police issue Taser. After he incapacitated my partner, he beat him half to death. The police are checking leads on the Taser.”
Hell, my stomach flip-flopped. This guy was a cop.
Brack glanced at me and most likely read the look on my face. “Tasers and police equipment are stolen all the time. Having a police issue Taser doesn’t mean this guy is a cop. I’m sure the police aren’t ruling it out, though.”
I heard the clearing of a throat again and turned. The detective who led us upstairs leaned in closer to me. “We’ve been trying to arrange a time to speak with you, Ms. Stradmore. Would tomorrow morning in my office work?” His tone said it wasn’t actually a question.
It made sense that I needed to be interviewed, but this was the first I’d heard of it. I cast a piqued look to my father and Brack.
Brack stepped away from my dad and turned to the detective. “If Ms. Stradmore is up to it, Detective Fuller, you may come by here in the morning and interview her. She will not be going downtown.”
The detective pressed his lips together and gave a nod. Dealing with a senator’s daughter could not be easy. And, wow, Brack didn’t just handle my father with confidence, he expertly directed the detective.
I raised my eyebrows fighting a smile. “I’ll have coffee ready any time after nine, detective.”
“Thank you, Ms. Stradmore. I’ll be here then.”
Things began breaking up after that. I just wish my dad was in a hurry to leave. I yawned hoping he’d get the hint. No such luck. My father had his security team step out my front door after the detective left. “Have a seat, Olivia.”
His demand had my temper elevating. Brack’s gentle squeeze on my shoulder kept me from snapping back. I took a breath and silently counted to ten. “You have a seat, Daddy, while I make tea.”
“I’ll handle the tea,” Brack said on his way to the kitchen. “Where do you keep it?”
So much for safety in numbers. Brack wasn’t stepping between me and the senator. “It’s in the far left cabinet. Teapot’s on the burner,” I volunteered because I knew I wasn’t getting out of this conversation. My quest to make tea was only a delay tactic.
I sighed wearily. “Choose your words carefully, Daddy. It’s late and I don’t want to regret my response.” The best way to handle my father was to set boundaries.
“Don’t pull attitude with me, Olivia.”
I didn’t say this technique worked. “I’m no longer a teenager, Dad.”
His face reddened. “Then don’t act like a child. There is a psychopath after you. He’s killed two people and he won’t stop. Knowing all this, you went to a night club? Are you out of your mind?”
“So you’re good if I stay home to get killed.” I didn’t allow my father to answer. “He waited for me outside your home and managed to break in after running me over. He came here while I was out. My being away was the safer scenario. The problem I have is that you came here. I know you’re paying my security, but you can let someone else handle check-ups on my team. I’m sick of…”
“I’ll be taking care of her team again, sir. I’ll also be staying here with her in the apartment until we take this guy down.”
I was too tired to get up and punch Brack for interfering. My father gave me a look that would have grown men quaking in their boots. Surprisingly, he pivoted on his heels and walked to my front door. He turned to Brack before making his grand exit. “Take her back to wherever you had her before if you need to. I couldn’t care less about her tennis season. I want her safe and if you back down again, Brack, someone else will take your place permanently. Have I made myself clear?”
“Perfectly clear, Senator Stradmore.”
After a final glare in my direction, my father threw open the door and slammed it behind him. I bit my lip against an evil smile. “He doesn’t know about the pictures at the night club yet, so you’re safe for a few hours.”
Brack walked over and tousled my hair. “He doesn’t scare me. I’m actually disappointed he didn’t stay for tea. Not that I made any,” he said with a grin. He placed his hand out. “Come on, sleepyhead, we’re going to bed.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“To sleep.”
“That’s what you think.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
I woke up first. It gave me a chance to admire Brack’s amazing upper body. His forearm half covered his face. I adored the muscles in that arm, probably too much. I wanted to lick each defined curve. The tuft of hair beneath his arm was sexy, too. Hell, everything about him was sexy. Unfortunately, the sheet covered my favorite erotic spot on his body. I decided to explore under the covers. Before I began my foray, I glanced at the bedside clock and groaned. I had twenty minutes before the detective arrived.
Brack’s sleepy voice surprised me. “I’ll make coffee. You grab a shower.”
He was excellent at reading my mind. “You’re on. There are frozen croissants in the freezer. I wish I had time to walk down the block and buy the detective donuts.”
“Haha, you think that offends cops? It doesn’t. We love sweet things.” He rolled over suddenly, held me in place, and bit my neck where it met my collarbone. It might leave a mark and I wondered what the detective would think.
I laughed as I untangled myself from Brack and stood from the bed. I gave an exaggerated sway to my hips as I went into the bathroom. It was Brack’s turn to groan. I showered quickly, dressed myself in one of my practice outfits, and followed the smell of coffee. Brack sat at my kitchen table looking entirely too yummy in his pants from the night before. No shirt, no shoes, and definitely no problem.
“Yep, your father will kill me,” Brack said looking up from my iPad.
“Don’t tell me you’re looking at the tabloids.”
“Twitter, Instagram… we’re all over the place.”
I shook my head. “You seriously looked at my Twitter and Instagram accounts?”
He gave me a little boy grin. “Like I would have my own?”
Now I laughed. “Point taken. What’s the damage?” I asked peeking over his shoulder.
He covered the iPad. “Grab some coffee first. You need a good dose of caffeine before seeing the worst.”
I grumbled but did as he said. I did need caffeine. I usually enjoyed half and half in my coffee, but I knew the stuff in the fridge had spoiled by now. I took some natural sugar from the cabinet and stirred a teaspoon into my mug. I pulled a chair close to Brack so I could see the screen.
“Ah hell, I look like you slipped me a date rape drug.” I took a sip of coffee and allowed the taste to help me overcome my mortification. My walk of shame pic was truly appalling.
“You’ll love this one.” Brack turned the screen toward me so I had a straight on view of a Twitter post.
@smutkisses O Stradmore te
nnis’s darling debutante seen after bathroom tryst with unknown sex god bitly.com/X2_LY8
I almost spit out my coffee. “I’ll find @smutkisses and force a tennis ball down her throat for the ‘debutante’ comment.” I clicked on the link and covered my eyes when I saw the picture of me and Brack. He had a bit of lace clearly hanging from his pocket. “Where is that thong?”
His lips quirked. “I have no idea. Maybe in the back of the town car.” His white teeth flashed into a full grin before going serious. He thrummed his fingers on the table and his eyes bore into mine. I knew I wouldn’t like what he said next. “These pictures will definitely have his attention. I realize that’s what you were trying to do by going to the nightclub.”
Ah, oh.
The doorbell rang and I could breathe again. I owed the detective an entire box of donuts for saving me. Brack stood before I could. I hadn’t noticed the gun in his belt holster on the hip he had turned away from me until now. Of course his bare chest had all my attention. I couldn’t help wondering where the damn gun was last night, though. He didn’t have it when I screwed him in the bathroom or gave him a blow job in the back of the town car.
Brack pulled the gun, turned the barrel downward, and bent over me whispering, “We’ll take this conversation up after the detective leaves. If not, you won’t be shaking your delectable ass on the tennis court today.”
He didn’t give me a chance to snap back a comment because he strode to the door, checked the peep hole, and let the detective in. Obviously, he didn’t care what the detective thought about his lack of shirt. Brack was such a contradiction. I swear he’d feel at home if someone threw him naked into a pit of lions.
Two hours later, I felt as if those imagined lions chewed me up and spit me out. When Detective Fuller first arrived, he requested Brack give us privacy. Not that it did any good. Brack had no problem informing Fuller that he wasn’t leaving my side. It surprised me when the detective acquiesced so easily. Brack didn’t interfere or even encourage me when I looked his way through the grueling interview. I felt like there were two detectives working in tandem with Brack being the silent partner.
Finally, Detective Fuller wound down and headed to the door. Brack closed it behind him, walked over, and gathered me against his chest. I desperately needed to schedule another meltdown. Until I found the time, Brack’s chest would do.
“This doesn’t get you out of our conversation.” He gave me a quick squeeze before pulling away and taking the chair next to mine. His I’m-not-happy look could almost rival my father’s. He didn’t give me more than the time to take a short breath before he started his lecture. “The last thing I want to do is burst your independent bubble, but here goes… you don’t have a chance in hell of taking this guy down alone. Three weeks of self-defense classes does not change that fact.” He held up his hand when I started to argue. “No, you need to listen to me. I didn’t train you so you could go one on one with this crazy fucker. Mack’s good. Damn good. I have no idea how he went down even with a Taser. Mack is still sedated, so I can’t ask him. Ty, or whatever the hell his name is, has no problem killing people and he’s damned good at it. He makes a plan and somehow stays one step ahead of us. That’s what we need to change.” Brack took my hand and brought it to his lips. I felt warm breath against that same hand when he spoke again. “We need him to come after me and I need to be ready for him. If I’m worried about you, I won’t have a chance. I’m tired of playing cat and mouse. In my operation, I’m technically the last line of defense. I guard the target.” He squeezed my hand tightly. “No more games.”
The eyes I loved had grown intensely hard. His shaggy hair no longer made him appear unkempt. He looked savage, and I couldn’t help the gulp of air I drew into my lungs at how much, even in the seriousness of our discussion, this man turned me on. I wanted to argue and tell him I was ready for my stalker. I wanted him to see the steel beneath my soft skin. The truth was hard, if not impossible, for me to admit aloud—I was scared shitless. The wall I’d built by telling myself I could take this guy was made of tissue paper.
I leaned forward and kissed the fingers holding my hand before looking up into Brack’s steady gaze. “Don’t hide anything from me. My impulsiveness will get people hurt. If I know the facts, I’ll do everything you say.”
Brack stood suddenly and wrapped me into his arms. I was placing my life into this man’s hands. It felt right. But if I lost him, I would lose myself.
He gave me a brief kiss. Brief because I pushed him away. “Sit back down. It’s my turn for answers.” I would no longer be blind to who was guarding me and who controlled them. Brack answered each of my questions honestly.
We were now a team, even if he didn’t want it that way.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Brack drove me to the country club. Because of the media swarming my apartment and our detoured avoidance of said media, I was late for practice.
Jerry appeared ready to have an apoplectic fit. Then, when I introduced Brack as my boyfriend, I thought Jerry’s eyes would bug out of his head. Being late was bad. A lover anywhere near training sessions was taboo. It broke every rule in Jerry’s book.
“What the hell are you doing, Stradmore?” he hissed as soon as we were far enough away from Brack that he couldn’t overhear.
I stopped walking and turned to my coach. Brack and I discussed what to say during the drive over. “You know there’s an insane man stalking me, right?”
Jerry only grunted.
“I feel safer with Brack by my side. We’re in a relationship and he’s a big guy.”
Jerry rolled his eyes. “You know I already chased the media away by saying you weren’t scheduled for the court today. When they finally see you with surfer boy it will be headline news. Is that what you want?”
It was hard not to laugh at his description of Brack. But, I had to stick to the plan. It was quite possible that Ty had an inside to Jerry. I trusted my coach to have me ready to compete. That was it. He wanted the attention my winning tennis darling notoriety brought. I’d known for a long time he’d dump me if my game fell and someone new came along. And, Jerry didn’t have a clue who Ty was any more than the rest of us. Someone fed Ty information, even if it was unknowingly. I turned away. With practiced ease my short skirt flipped up. It was my way to roll my eyes. “He’s staying. Deal with it. Brack will try his best to keep his hands off me during practice.”
I couldn’t see Jerry’s reaction, but I could imagine it. I let a small smile slip as I stopped at the fence and began my dynamic warm ups. I went from warm ups to agility drills. For the next thirty minutes, Jerry glared at me. Usually, he would be encouraging me, yelling, or complaining. Not today. I had a feeling he saw his meal ticket slipping through his fingers. I was having doubts about continuing the pro circuit for the first time in my life, so Jerry wasn’t far off base. If the worst happened and I voluntarily ended my career or worst-case scenario died, Jerry would find another fledgling to carve into a winner. He wasn’t my problem. Getting through the next week alive was.
I tried focusing, I truly did. It wasn’t my fault a crazy stalker was killing people or that my bodyguard had the body of Adonis. His low-riding jeans and tight t-shirt had me thinking about tonight. I knew the eyes he hid beneath his shades. My breath hitched with longing to see them flash sexily at me. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his biceps bulging, and his hair ruffling in the slight breeze. I wanted nothing more than to pull that hair and force his lips against mine.
I heard Jerry mutter, “For the love of God save me from overactive hormones,” as we walked over to the court to begin backhand agility drills. I saw Meagan, a twenty-something wannabe pro warming up, too. She’d been my practice partner before. Her overall game wasn’t up to par and her backhand completely sucked. She hadn’t improved over time. If she remained in tennis, her life would dissolve to teaching young rich kids until they outgrew her. She wasn’t my favorite person to face across the court
and I did not like the obvious fuck-me glances she cast toward Brack. I had to give her credit for her skirt flip, though. I’m sure Brack could fill me in on if she went full Brazilian. I wanted to pull her skirt off, wad it up, and shove it down her throat. I caught Brack turning her way a time or two, which only pissed me off more.
I finished my drills and waited as Jerry had Meagan set up on the other side of the net. We would volley for the next few minutes before getting serious. Sixty-seconds later, my true bitch decided to come out and play. Meagan was a decent baseline player and tried everything she could to make me play her groundstroke game.
Idiot.
She would never learn. If my serve didn’t take her down, my backhand would. I used her weaknesses to my advantage. Within a few minutes, I had her running the court at my whim. It didn’t matter what she tried, I controlled the play. She was there to work my form and not to challenge me. Too damned bad she didn’t get the memo. When she finally managed to return the ball, she threw her hands up in anger. I returned the ball with a forehand stroke adding extra topspin two feet off the net. It slammed Meagan a few inches above her pelvic bone.
Ouch.
“Okay, tiger, that’s enough,” Brack informed me from courtside.
I looked his way while fighting a grin and shrugged my shoulders in a “who me?” gesture.
“You bitch,” Meagan coughed while holding her stomach.
I felt better than I had in weeks. It was sad that evil Olivia had to show herself to take my mind from the horrors of my life. I turned back to Meagan. “You finished giving my boyfriend fuck me eyes or do you want me to jump the net and kick your ass?”
Jerry stormed onto the court and assisted Meagan off. He didn’t bother looking my way. I stood my ground until the two of them were about twenty feet away. I strolled over to Brack swishing my skirt for all it was worth. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest watching me come closer. When a foot separated us, he reached out and hauled me in so our chests touched. I needed his lips so badly. They stopped a whisper from mine.
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