I scoff a laugh. “Yeah…so much… knocked up by a famous rocker, stalked by fans and paparazzi and in love with my bodyguard. Right…” I roll my eyes.
“Is it so bad feeling this way for me? Do I disgust you?” His walls are back up and he’s in self-preservation mode. It’s weaved through his words.
Cupping his chin in my hand, I caress the stubble. “You mister, are not disgusting and I’m happy to love you. I wouldn’t change that. But you need to realize I’m not a prize. I’m a bag of trash.”
A deep frown and furrowed brows marks his face. “You are my prize, Emily. So are those babies.” He rubs my tummy. “I love them and you.”
He’s so adorable, I just wish he’d realize I’m not all that. I’m just me. There isn’t much there. Obviously not enough to keep my first boyfriend from cheating or Johnathan from screwing up or Claire from leaving me. I’m just a person people leave. I’m not the keeper. I’m the in-between girl.
Curling up closer to me, James rolls onto his back and coaxes my neck down so I’m cuddling his peck. We lay and chat for hours and hours. I rub his body up and down in slow soft delicate strokes and savor him. Soaking in his warmth and loving nature.
I learn more about James that I’d never known. Like, he’s a big dog lover and he grew up in Oregon. That’s why he loves the outdoors so much, because the redwoods were his sanctuary. I hear they are beautiful but I’ve not seen them myself. As a child, he camped, fished, and hunted, a lot by himself. His father was an investment banker, that’s where he got his gift of investing from. In high school girls loved him, but he was always the shy guy who never pursued the ladies. And, much to my surprise, James has only had seven sex partners. Compared to Johnathan’s hundreds, it makes me feel good that James is cleaner cut than that. At least with him, I know what I’m getting into, and I don’t have to worry about him hopping into bed with another woman. Watching them fuck around with other men, yes. That’s part of his job when he’s not protecting me. The whole band partakes in orgies. And the bodyguards are forced to watch. That I can handle. The actual screwing, I cannot.
Chapter Fourteen
Today is the last day of our vacation here in the wonderful cabin in Colorado. This week has flown by. Probably because James and I have spent the past five days shacked up in our bedroom trading sexual favors and talking. We’ve made love a dozen more times and grown closer than I ever imagined. The babies that are now the size of papayas have been active every day and provided us with a lot of much appreciated entertainment. We’ve even talked about baby names this week. Coming up short with any real decision.
I refuse to think about going back to reality tomorrow. I’ve enjoyed the James and Emily bubble this week. Taking hot baths together, rocking on the porch, wrapped in blankets. This is what every woman dreams of when she pictures the perfect man in the perfect place.
“What do you want for dinner tonight beautiful?” James says, leaning over the back of my favorite couch and kisses me sweetly on the lips. A giant smile cascades across my face and I grab his cheeks hold him to my lips.
“I want you for dinner.” I nibble his bottom lip and a groan pours from his minty mouth.
“No love, what does Mama Bear want to feed the cubs? You can have me all you want but the cubs need actual sustenance,” he says as I let go of his face.
“Can we go out?”
“Sure, let’s get changed into something nice and I need to strap on my guns.”
I frown. “Do we really need them here? Nobody knows us.”
“I’m not taking any chances, sweetie. Just because we love each other doesn’t change the fact that those babies are a product of a very famous rock star and the entire globe knows it,” he explains in his matter-of-fact work tone.
I huff and roll off the couch. Waddling like a penguin I take the stairs and he follows behind me, pinching my butt and making me giggle the whole way. I loved this vacation. This is going to suck tomorrow. I tug off my tank top and panties and change into a fresh pair of pink boy shorts, a matching bra and a pretty long-sleeved red knit dress that makes me look like a giant cherry. I slide on a pair of white flats with a big red flower on the top. I brought them specifically for red dresses or shirts. They are adorable and a steal when I bought them on clearance for ten dollars at Forever Twenty-one.
I turn around and find my deliciously sexy bodyguard in a pair of black cargo pants, a black t-shirt, his double gun holster already strapped on and he’s bending down to strap his ankle knife on. He must really think we are in danger everywhere we go. I realize a lot of his protectiveness has to do with his experience in Iraq, but we’ve not even been noticed the two times we were in public together the past thirteen days we’ve been here.
“Do you really need the knife?” I ask, watching him check to make sure it’s secure.
“Sweetheart, I’m not chancing a thing when it comes to you. It’s not only my job that I’ve been hired to do but also my job because I love you.” He smiles and stands.
“I understand and you do look rather yummy with all that firepower. I just hate scaring the bejesus out of everyone who looks at you. You’re all sweet and loving but when someone looks at you, they are liable to piss their pants. You’re terrifying.”
A sly smile creeps from the corner of his mouth and he grabs his black leather jacket from the dresser, slings it over his shoulders tugging it on. Holy fuck, he’s sexy.
“Do you have glasses too?” I tease.
“Why yes I do.” He wiggles a brow and pulls a pair of dark tinted aviators from his chest pocket and slides them on his face.
Oh my god I think I might just come. Fucckkkk he’s hot, and he’s all mine.
Grabbing my hand, he escorts me down the stairs and throws a coat over my shoulders as we head out into the cold Colorado mid-November air. I shiver as my face is blown with frigid wind and he wraps his arm over my shoulder to keep me warm and opens the passenger side door to the Suburban. I get in with his help and I fasten my seatbelt.
Fifteen minutes later we are down the hill, parked and inside a quaint diner. The hostess couldn’t stop checking James out as we sat. I wanted to slap her but I refrained. I don’t need to make a scene.
“What can I get cha’?” Our young male waiter asks, looking only at me.
“I’ll have an ice water with lemon, and he’ll have?” I look to James. I know he usually takes either water or milk. He’s not much for pop, lately. But he does drink it sometimes. I think he’s on a healthier kick because I’m around and pregnant. He gets enough junk food with the daily Snickers bar he ingests.
“I’ll take a milk and a water,” he orders but the man won’t stop staring at me. His eyes are fixated on my face and my breasts. Switching between the two and completely ignoring the gigantic baby bump. Some men get off on looking a pregnant women but he’s a boob man. I can tell.
“Ah-hem,” James fakes clearing his throat and the man takes his gaze from my breasts and finally acknowledges him. His eyes widen and a look of horror washes over his youthful face. I hold back a giggle. I told James he could make someone piss their pants.
“Oh… ah…so...rry” The young man stutters and I bite my lip, this is all too funny.
“Sorry for what, son?” James asks in his even deeper panty dropping voice. I love it but it’s so deep and husky it probably will make the boy have to check his pants later to make sure he didn’t tinkle a little.
“Whaa…t…was….it… you’d… umm…like sir?”
“I’d like for you to take my milk and water order. But what I’d really like son is if you’d please not stare at my pregnant wife’s chest. I realize that she’s very beautiful. I did marry her, after all. But I’d appreciate if you’d like to check out a woman please let it be someone other than my wife. Gawking at her chest makes me a little edgy and you wouldn’t want me to be edgy, would you, son?” James says, as smooth as silk. His back pressed against the booth, his chest pushed out.
I
love having someone protecting me. Johnathan would probably high-five the guy and tell and ask him to look some more. Okay, no he wouldn’t, he’s protective too. But he’d probably flip out and scream. James is as cool as a cucumber and just scared the life out of this poor man. As the guy stares at my hot bodyguard, James opens his jacket enough to reveal two guns holstered to his chest, and the boys eyes widen even further if that’s even possible. This is so funny. James wouldn’t hurt a damn fly unless he had to. But the waiter doesn’t know that.
“Sir,” another man says, walking over to the table. “Sir, this is a no gun establishment,” a manager states and the scared shitless waiter runs to fill our drink orders, without another word.
James ignores the man and pulls out his wallet and produces a card, placing it into the man’s hand.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he says to James, hands him back the card and dismisses himself like a dog with a tail between his legs.
“What was that all about?” I whisper, leaning cross the table a little so nobody can overhear.
“Which part? The man staring at your chest or the manager?”
“Both.”
“The boy should know better than to be disrespectful and stare at any woman’s chest, especially yours. He needed to be taught a lesson. Plus, I don’t take kindly to men ogling my woman.” He winks at me lovingly. “Most places you’re not allowed to carry concealed weapons without a permit. And others you can’t even carry them with one. It depends on the state or facility. But I have more than a permit to carry. I have a government stamp because of my military and federal career. Giving me every right to carry a gun even on an airplane, into a school building, federal building, or anywhere else. They are highly classified job classifications to warrant such a stamp of approval. I’m just one of about five thousand in the U.S with this level of clearance.”
Oh wow. If it’s possible, I think James just became even hotter. I knew he worked internal affairs for the U.S after his military career I never realized how deep he was really in.
“So what did you have to do in order to get that clearance?” I ask, truly interested.
“Tests, training, evaluations, more tests, and the government clearances that are difficult to achieve.”
“Okay, but you don’t work for the government anymore, do you?” I raise a brow.
He leans back in his seat and breathes in deep. “Well… Not on an official capacity. But in a way, yes.”
Whoa! Wait a damn minute. He’s supposed to be a bodyguard for Stricken. Not some undercover government operative.
“Are you undercover?” Now I’m very concerned.
Reaching across the table he grabs my hands and holds them into his and our waiter drops off our drinks. James gives him a gaze that tells him to scram, and he does.
“Sweetheart, I’m not going to lie. I’m not undercover. But I’m what the government calls a safe link. I have knowledge of certain information that has not been written for the purpose of keeping it secret. So they have people go through classes to have the information imbedded in their brain. This way if the government needs the knowledge they can ask me for it and no one can steal it because I’m the only person retaining it. Sure, someone could try to kidnap me and break me down for the information, but I’ve been tortured not just in Iraq but through testing for this job that I hold.”
“So what you’re telling me is you know some secret stuff no one else on the planet knows and you’re keeping it safe just in case the government needs the information?”
He nods. “Yes. That’s the gist.”
Oh my god. James is a secret operative just like he was in the military and that means he’s still government property.
James waves over the waiter. “I’ll have a cheeseburger deluxe with waffle fries and my wife will have a chicken breast sandwich with avocado, tomato, mayo, provolone cheese, lettuce and onion. On the side she would like onion rings with ranch. That’ll be all,” he orders and the waiter just nods, writing down our order with wide eyes and a shaky hand. I didn’t pick what I wanted but apparently James decided the boy had enough interaction with my breasts, so he was deciding for me. We order all the time together. It’s no surprise that he knows what I’d eat. I’m a chicken fanatic. He truly does know what I like and what I don’t. Both in and out of the bedroom.
Our food arrives and we eat in peace, chatting like an old married couple. The babies kick a few times and I giggle at the sensation. Feeling your babies kick inside you makes all the difference in the world. It makes the horniness, the constant peeing and the hunger, all worth it.
We finish eating and James escorts me, on alert, per usual, to the Suburban. He opens my door.
“Sir,” a man says coming out of nowhere, instantly putting James in protect mode. He blocks my body by stepping in front of me and using his hand, he pushes me up into the truck.
“What do you want?” James asks, his voice on guard.
“I’m wondering if I could get a picture of Emily?” The man in a jean jacket and black pants on says and reaches behind him. But before he can bring his hand back around, James has his gun out and pointing straight the man’s head. My heart leaps into my chest and the man freezes.
“You do not get a picture of her. You will not touch her. What you will do, is put your hands above your head and you will back away slowly. If you so much as flinch, I will shoot you in the knee. Do you understand me?” He orders the man, who nods slowly and hesitantly puts his hands in the air.
“I was just reaching for my cell phone to take a picture, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m a huge fan of Stricken and I noticed her when you two were walking out of the restaurant. I don’t want any trouble.” The man talks fast and then takes in a deep breath.
I reach out and touch James’s shoulder that instinctively flinches and then settles into my touch.
“James, if he wants a picture and he’s a fan, he’s obviously not a crazy lunatic. Frisk him if you must but let me take a picture with him. You nearly scared the man to death,” I say in a near whisper, so the man can’t hear me.
“Seems that Ms. Bronwyn is going to give you want you want. But I will need to frisk you first to make sure you’re not packing.”
The man nods again but doesn’t move. He’s beyond scared. James lowers his gun but doesn’t holster it. He shuts my door and pats down the man up and down three times before he says something to him and he drops his hands and produces his iPhone.
James reopens my door and I slide out, as I hold onto his hand.
“Here.” I reach out and take the man’s phone. “James, can you please take a picture of us?” I hand him the phone and he frowns, but takes it.
“Thank you so much. Everyone back home loves you and thinks you’re so beautiful. They’re going to be so jealous,” the guy says as I stand next to him and wrap my arm around his back. He goes to place his arm around mine and James gives him the evil eye, so he refrains.
James snaps a few pictures and hands the man back the phone. “Enjoy,” I say, and head back to the truck with James on my tail, blocking my body. He helps me back into the Suburban without a word and I’m fairly certain he’s angry with me.
He gets in too and we head back to the cabin. I reach out my hand to touch him but he pulls away. Yep, he’s angry. I didn’t do anything wrong. I felt bad for the poor guy, he had a damn gun pointed at his head. I didn’t want to him to completely write off the band because of James doing his job.
The truck stops outside the cabin and I get out without waiting this time. I’m getting the silent treatment anyhow, so two can play at that game.
“Oh no you don’t,” he scolds as I head up the few steps into the cabin.
“What? So now you’re talking to me?” I sass.
His hands find my waist and he pulls me to him. My belly touching his crotch. I’m short. I can’t help it.
“I’m not angry. I was a little hyped up is all. I didn’t want to take it out on you. Pull
ing a gun on someone isn’t something I take lightly. The man posed a threat, Emily. I will not take your life or the babies lives lightly. You are my number one priority.”
I reach up and cup his face in both my hands. “I love you. You big goon. I know you wouldn’t pull a gun on the man if you weren’t worried. But you don’t think that your feelings might have had something to do with your reaction to both the man at the diner and afterward? He isn’t the first man to want to pull out a camera to snap my picture, Calvin James. It happens all the time and yes you protect me. But only once, other than tonight, have I seen you pull a gun on somebody. And that was on Deacon.”
His shoulders slump. “I love you so much. I can’t risk your life for anything. I’d rather pull a gun and be wrong, than not and something happens. I can’t lose you. This famous shit is bigger than you’ve ever imagined, I’m sure. You know it’s bad Mama Bear. And this papa can’t let you get hurt.”
“The man at the diner wasn’t going to hurt me, he just stared at my boobs,” I remind him with a cute smile. He’s adorable for wanting to protect me. But, he has to realize just because he loves me doesn’t mean everyone is a threat. He’s always had my back but I think being in Colorado has not only made his feelings flourish but brought us down from the crazy life we were dealing with for weeks back home. It’s been a nice vacation.
“Yeah… Okay,” he shrugs. “But, in my defense, those are my breasts and I’m not a fan of any man checking them out.”
I pull his face down to my level and kiss him. Awe, he’s so wonderful. His lips are soft and sweet on mine and I wrap my arms around his neck. And he sweeps me up into his arms, carrying me into the house. Laying me on the couch, our lips still locked he reaches up my dress and rubs my pussy through my boy shorts. I groan into his mouth, surrendering to his will.
“You’re going to be mine, sweetheart,” he says, pulling his lips from mine for but a moment and smashing them back down, his tongue invades my mouth and I reach out to try and find his manhood. Ravishing my mouth with his tongue, our breathing kicks up a notch and instantly my juices are flowing for him. I need him inside of me.
Stricken Trust (Stricken Rock) Page 12