Show Stopper: A Single Dad Bodyguard Romance

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Show Stopper: A Single Dad Bodyguard Romance Page 2

by Amy Brent


  It was going to be hard with her being my boss because all I’d want to do is shove her against a wall and claim those perfect, plump lips of hers as mine. And I knew, deep down, I wouldn’t be able to do anything with her. She was going to be my boss, and I had to do whatever she requested of me.

  But damn, if she wanted me to get on my knees and devour her pussy, I’d do it in a heartbeat and never think twice.

  Whatever was going on, I had to protect her. I stood on her porch for two hours, trying to rid my mind of all the sex scenes I’d seen her do during her career. When I cleared my mind of my raging lust, I remembered the gut reaction I’d had on the phone call when I was getting the job. Something felt off, like maybe this young woman was actually in danger, and suddenly my, brain switched from horny bodyguard to protector.

  I couldn’t think with my dick because if I did, someone could get hurt.

  Besides, I couldn’t do much because of Lacey, anyway. One-night stands were about all I could do, now that my little girl was growing up. The last thing I wanted was for her to see a revolving door of women coming in and out of my life. Her mother was a raging bitch who’d tried to give her up for adoption, despite my protests, but I saved Lacey from the adoption process and raised her on my own. The moment her mother caught wind of the fact that I’d legally stopped the adoption, she took off, and I hadn’t seen her since.

  Good fucking riddance, if you ask me. Lacey was growing into a beautiful young girl. She was five now, with wispy blonde hair like her mother, but she had my stoic blue eyes. Thankfully, her mother’s hair was all she inherited because every time we went out in public, people always commented on how much alike we looked. I was scared that it would fade as she got older, that one day, I’d wake up and see the spitting image of the bitch who deserted the best thing that could’ve ever happened to her. I worried I’d hold that resentment against my own daughter.

  But the more she grew, the more she turned into me, and it was both a relief and a worry. My little girl was growing up, which meant my adult activities had to be kept to a minimum. I could never stay over at anyone’s house, I never brought the activities back home, and I was never afforded the chance to wake up next to the soft body of a woman.

  That was the price of being a single dad, though, and it wasn’t a price I was willing to compromise just because I couldn’t get my rocks off whenever I wanted.

  Women were bullshit, anyway. Lacey’s mom had been a real piece of work while she was pregnant. I was lucky enough to talk her out of having an abortion, but no matter how much I protested, I couldn’t talk her out of the adoption. I told her I’d take care of her and she could go on her merry way, and she would accuse me of being a shit person who couldn’t take care of himself, much less another human, and she’d storm off in a fit before I could get the last word in. She made my life a living nightmare for nine months, and then tried to essentially sell my daughter out from underneath me.

  That right there was enough for me to swear off women altogether, no matter the circumstance. Did my bed get lonely? Sure. Did I have the type of sex I wanted all the time? Not even close. Was it worth dealing with the shit women kicked up on a daily basis because they thought they were superior to me? Hell fucking no. I was done with women and their emotions. If they wanted to fuck, I’d give them a few hours of my evening, and then I’d be off. I had no patience to deal with their emotional tirades or their confusing states of mind. I had a little girl I was trying to raise to be a stable, healthy individual, and I didn’t need someone with a first-class ticket to Crazy Town upheaving the balance I’d set in her life.

  My mind was ripped from my train of thought when the doorknob began to turn. I covered up my gun with my suit jacket and buttoned it up, wanting to look professional and not like I’d just been run into a wall with my memories and fantasies. I expected another worker to open the door, a chef or a maid. Possibly a parent of some sort. But when I saw Bridget Meyers standing on the other side of the door in fucking booty shorts and a tank top with no bra, my mouth started to salivate.

  She was more beautiful in person than she’d ever been on that silver screen, and I could feel my cock twitching, trying to get closer to her body.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just doing some yoga.” Light beads of sweat were dripping down her temple and flowing down her neck. They disappeared into the slight cleavage she still had, even without her tits harnessed, and it was all I could do not to reach out and bring her in for a kiss. Her skin glowed in the morning sunlight that was beaming down onto my back. Her legs were long and smooth, perfect for wrapping around my thick-muscled waist and hanging on while I showed her exactly what my body could do for hers.

  Fuck, this woman was smoking hot. This job was gonna be tough.

  “Thank you so much for starting so soon,” she said. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” I said. I stepped through the threshold of her mansion and couldn’t help but gawk. I’d watched over some high-profile people in my day, but her home really had a sense of flair to it. The massive double staircase alternated white and black steps, and the cherry mahogany hardwood floors looked like they’d just been waxed. There wasn’t an abundance of furniture, just the stuff she needed with a few pieces scattered for accents, which made the mansion feel incredibly spacious.

  “You like?” she asked.

  “You have a beautiful home,” I said.

  “Thanks. Are you hungry? Or thirsty? That sun is hot. I don’t know who in the world told you to stand out there.”

  “It’s fine. Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask.”

  “Are you carrying a gun or something?” she asked.

  I unbuttoned my suit coat and showed her the gun I was packing, and there was a sense of relief that rolled behind her eyes. I had to commend her for keeping her composure so well, but her reaction told me everything I needed to know about the importance of this job.

  Something was threatening her, and whatever it was, she no longer felt safe in her own little world.

  “You’ll be safe as long as I’m here,” I said. “And my weapon will never be discharged unless necessary.”

  “Thank you, Mister…?”

  “Jeffries. Thomas Jeffries.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Jeffries.”

  My stomach lurched at how easily that title flowed from her lips. For a brief second, I imagined having her pinned to a window and fucking her senseless while the whole of the world below saw me sinking my dick into the great Bridget Meyers. She would breathe my name into my ear while I escalated my thrusts into her body, and when she came all over my dick—

  “Are you hungry? Or thirsty?”

  Her voice ripped me from my trance, and I was glad it did. If I kept going any longer while having to avert my gaze from her ass that was basically falling out of her shorts, I’d have a wet spot I’d have to contend with and explain away.

  “Coffee would be fantastic, but you don’t have to go through all the trouble.”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “I live off the stuff. I was just about to fix myself a cup.”

  She was very welcoming, and I could see how she’d make many friends. She was always walking around with a group of individuals whenever the cameras would catch her out and about, and her friendly demeanor toward strangers could be how she drew them in. She was beautiful, she was polite, and she knew when she needed to reach out for help.

  I liked all those traits in a woman.

  Calm down, Jeffries. She’s just a nice piece of ass.

  “Did you eat breakfast?” she asked.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sounded like my mother,” I said.

  “Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable. Whenever you’re here, whatever you wanna help yourself to is fine. I’ll be kind and gracious once, and then you’re no longer a guest.”

  “Yep, definitely like my mother,” I said with a smirk.

  “Is your mother
kind and beautiful?” she asked. She turned around and eyed me with those big baby blues of hers, and I felt my voice catch in my throat.

  “Very much so, on both accounts,” I said.

  “Then I’ll take it as a compliment,” she said, smiling.

  She made us up two cups of coffee, before her and her braless tits came to sit at the kitchen table. She slid me my mug, and I caught it between my hands. Then she wasted no time in jumping into her schedule for the day.

  “I don’t have much to do today, but I do have a meeting at one that you’ll need to go to with me. Other than that, I’m just hanging around here, prepping for my next movie.”

  “Sounds exciting,” I said.

  “We’ll see. I was sent the script, so I technically haven’t gotten the role yet. They want my opinion on it.”

  “Is that a good thing?” I asked.

  “It is, and it isn’t,” she said, frowning. “If I like the script, I have the job, but if I don’t like the script, I risk the job because I’m a woman, and I’m not supposed to have opinions.”

  “Yay Hollywood?”

  Her giggle hit my ears like jiggling jello on a Christmas morning. It was light and airy, with a hint of sweetness, and I felt oddly comfortable in her sprawling mansion. Usually, I was uncomfortable with stepping into other people’s homes, especially when they were as nice as this. I felt out of place, like I was dirtying up something that didn’t need my fingerprints on it, but she was open and welcoming.

  It was a nice change of pace.

  “Like I said, thank you for starting so soon,” she said.

  “Not a problem. I wasn’t briefed too much on the issue, though. Are you just wanting a full-time bodyguard for regular outings?”

  I saw her eyes sadden for just a brief moment before she averted her gaze and took a sip of her coffee. She leaned back into her chair and crossed her long, thin legs over each other, but she never did offer me an answer.

  “It’ll help me do my job better if I know what’s happening,” I said.

  “Just keep an eye out for things,” she said. “You know, like a regular bodyguard would do.”

  She didn’t want to talk about it, and that was fine, but it meant I had to keep on high alert all the time. I was used to that lifestyle, with raising a beautiful little girl in a world as cruel as this one, but it meant I was going to be very exhausted at the end of my days.

  “I’ll be down here, next to the door at 12:30, ready to go for your meeting,” I said.

  She offered me a nod before she got up and walked away.

  Chapter 3

  Bridget

  It felt nice to have a bodyguard, but I was still on the lookout. I felt safer in my home than I did anywhere else because I knew where all the windows and doors were. Cars felt vulnerable because you could shoot out their windows or tires, and other buildings, like my agent’s office, had an untold number of windows and doors. Anyone could shimmy up the building or repel from the roof or climb through the ducts and jump down onto her desk.

  I’d watched too many movies for my own good.

  My driver took us to the meeting, and Mr. Jeffries was sitting right beside me. He was a walking hulk of granite, easily three times my size, and I felt oddly safe, as well as heavily vulnerable, around him. He was easy enough to talk to, like I figured out this morning, but he was also all business.

  Which meant very little play.

  “That’s so boring,” I said to myself.

  “Hm?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just thinking through some things.”

  Shit, I can’t believe I’d said that out loud. I needed to focus my mind towards the meeting with my agent today. Apparently, she had some new roles for me she wanted me to look over, and I was hoping I could take one or two of them and completely toss out the script I’d been given. It was a terrible script, with multiple spelling errors tossed off as accents, and I didn’t want to get within ten miles of that thing, much less step onto a set with it.

  “Calm down, Miss Meyers. It’s just a car ride.”

  I hadn’t realized how much I’d been jiggling my legs. I was probably rocking the car on its own tires with how fast they had been moving.

  “Sorry,” I said. “My agent just likes to be very cryptic on the phone. I’ve got no idea what I’m walking into.”

  “Then I’ll walk in first,” he said.

  “Not like that,” I said, giggling. He really was all work and no play, and I figured I could at least have a bit of fun with this entire situation while he was around.

  “I could just take your gun and walk in first, I guess,” I said.

  “I’m the only one licensed to handle my gun.”

  “But you said all I needed to do was ask you for something and I’d get it, right?” I asked.

  “Yes, but that doesn’t extend to my firearm,” he said.

  “So, I can’t handle your gun?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Such a shame,” I said. “When you flashed it, it looked like a really nice gun. Most men don’t have guns like that.”

  I could see his face reddening, and I smiled with pride. He was going to be a fun one, and I was going to take a great deal of pride in messing with him whenever I could. I felt the driver slowly pull to a stop before the car lurched itself into park. I stared up at the massive building before my leg started jiggling again.

  “Miss Meyers, take a deep breath. I’ll get out before you do, and then I’ll walk behind you into the building. If anyone tries to come at you from behind, they’ll have to get through me, and I’ll have eyes on everything else around you.”

  That sounded really good, but I was still worried about getting out of the car. I couldn’t help it. My nerves were absolutely shot. But when Mr. Jeffries threw the door open and got out, I realized I had no choice.

  He dipped his hand down to help me from the car like a gentleman, and all at once, the paparazzi descended upon me. Clicks and flashes of cameras came at me from every direction, and questions ranging from “who’s this?” and “what’s the bodyguard for?” came raining down upon me. Mr. Jeffries shoved them out of the way like a pro before he held the office door open for me, and when we started for the elevators and got around the corner, I slumped myself against the wall.

  It would be so easy for someone to hide in a crowd of paparazzi and shoot me with a gun that looked like a camera.

  “Are you all right, Miss Meyers?” he asked.

  “Just seen way too many movies,” I said.

  “Seems like a fair statement, given your profession.”

  “Do you always sound this professional?” I asked.

  “Did I sound this professional this morning?”

  He had a point, and I was about to question him on it, but the elevator door opened and a young man ushered us in.

  “Miss Smith sent me down,” he said. “Come, come. She’s waiting.”

  We rode the elevator up to her floor, and the entire time, Mr. Jeffries was standing in front of me. His arms were clasped around the front of his body, and his shoulders were rolled back. While standing behind him, I noticed just how massive this man was. His shoulders were broad, and they tapered down into a thick waist, no doubt because of the muscle he housed underneath his clothes. His legs were swollen with muscles I feared he’d have to use eventually. He looked strong, he looked intimidating, and there was something about him that coursed electricity through my veins.

  He’s just your bodyguard, Bridget.

  We stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway, and Linda poked her head out before we even got there. I could see the frustration in her face with us being late, but in our defense, we did pull up right at one o’clock.

  It was just my hesitation that made us late.

  “Get in here before I have to cancel altogether,” she said.

  Mr. Jeffries stepped in before me, and I knew enough to shut the door behind me. Linda tossed three scripts onto t
he table and ushered me to sit down. My stomach dropped when I realized I’d have to read through all these while sitting here with her.

  “Am I supposed to be choosing one?” I asked.

  “Nope, you’re supposed to be filming all of them. They all want you, and they all film within the span of six months.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked.

  “I don’t play around with this shit. And it took me a very long time to secure the Spielberg one, so I expect a bit of applause.”

  Linda was incredibly abrasive sometimes, but she always landed me the best roles. I had her to thank for my fame and stardom because of her ability to sweet talk me onto sets, so I always ignored her attitude whenever we met up.

  But I could tell her attitude was grating on my bodyguard.

  Linda didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just didn’t care. “One is action with a love story, one is a crime drama with no love story, and one is some bullshit, alternate dimension movie that they want to make into a series if the first one goes well. I told them so long as they had you in it, they’d have as many movies as they want.”

 

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