Vanguard Security_A Military Bodyguard Romance

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Vanguard Security_A Military Bodyguard Romance Page 11

by S. J. Bishop


  “But if he’d been a hostile, we might not have made it to you in time. I could have lost you.”

  That shut her up. For a moment.

  “Nothing happened. And I’m going to the party if I have to walk.” I didn’t look in the mirror, but if I had, I was sure I’d see her arms folded like a child throwing a tantrum.

  “It’s too risky. Where the hell is Cruz?” I mashed the button on my radio, and he didn’t answer. I searched the dark parking lot for his car, a red Mazda MX6 that got him a lot of grief from the guys in the firm. I didn’t see him anywhere, but what I did see was a black Pathfinder. It wasn’t moving, and the tint was so dark I couldn’t make out a driver, if there was one.

  “You aren’t going to tell me what to do. I have to live my life. I’ve been in this mess of Daddy’s since I was born. I’ll keep my plans, and you handle the security like you were hired to do. I know Daddy’s paying you good money for this!”

  “Van— Ms. Genovese, it’s just a bad idea. I’m trying to protect you from your father’s enemies. Do I have to protect you from yourself, too?”

  “Don’t you dare,” her voice oozed with loathing.

  “Do you see that SUV over there?” I quickly looked through in the rear-view mirror and motioned with my eyes to where the car was parked. She had her dress off, a pink bra filling the entire mirror.

  “Stop it, Martin. There isn’t a bad guy lurking behind every tree.” Vanessa held my gaze, not even bothering to cover herself.

  “Of course not. There are no trees here.” She just groaned at me. “But there are bad guys. That’s why you father’s paying me these big bucks, as you so kindly put it.”

  “Then do your job and get rid of them!” She reached behind her back and popped the clasp on the bra. “I’m tired of being scared. I’m not letting the Mafia run my life. I’m an adult!” She raised her voice at the end, and I was sure everyone in the parking lot heard us.

  I looked back out the window toward the SUV. It hadn’t moved. I turned on the car, and as the engine started, Vanessa made a ‘told you so’ face into the mirror. “Not so fast,” I told her. “I’m just turning the air on. We’ve fogged up the windows.” I pointed to the windshield.

  When my eyes met hers again in the rear-view mirror, she’d lost the bra. I coughed. Big, green eyes and two perky tits stared back at me.

  “Too bad you don’t want to fog them up the fun way.” She smirked at me and bounced her shoulders up once, making her tits jiggle at me.

  “Please don’t start that again,” I begged.

  Keeping her eyes locked on mine, Vanessa climbed halfway back into the front seat, leaning over me with her left breast right in my face. Her hair fell across my cheek, sending shivers down my spine and directly into my crotch.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

  “Fogging up the windows.” Vanessa grinned. “If they can’t see us in here, they can’t get us.” With that, she reached between my legs and grabbed me.

  “God,” we both said.

  Her chest still in my face, I couldn’t stop myself from taking that glorious mound in my hand and caressing it. Even as I did so, I admonished myself for the inappropriate contact and laughed internally at myself for caressing anything.

  “We can’t do this,” I protested. I’d just finished talking to her father about what a good girl she was, and now here she was with her hand gripping my cock, my mouth so close to that tiny, pink nipple. “Please.”

  She did as I begged, falling back into her seat behind me. Although I knew it was the right thing to do, certain parts of me begged her to come back. A moment later, she jumped in the front seat, a slinky, silk dress barely covering her ass.

  With her right hand, she fastened her seatbelt, and with her left, she unzipped my pants, one swift motion that I barely registered until it was done. Neatly manicured nails tore at my boxer briefs until she found what she was looking for. “Drive,” she whispered in my ear.

  18

  Vanessa

  Stop, stop, stop!” Martin snatched my hand away and exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath the whole time. Just when it was getting fun.

  “I’m sure we’re getting close anyway.” I blindly felt around in the back seat for my purse. “Rain check?”

  Martin rearranged his problem, zipped back up, and stared straight ahead. “I’m circling until Cruz verifies that the coast is clear.” The redness in his face and sound of his heavy breathing was probably the real reason we had to circle.

  Finding what I was after in the back, I settled smugly into my seat and flipped down the sun visor. As I reapplied my lipstick and went back over my foundation with a thin, new, fresh layer, I chuckled at how hard I’d worked just on a quick hand job.

  “What?” Martin asked, still not turning his head toward me.

  “Nothing,” I replied with a chirp in my voice.

  He cleared his throat and turned into a back alley. Fire ignited deep in my core, anticipating the ecstasy. I turned toward him and tugged at his shirt, dying to see the hairy chest I’d only had the luxury of imagining for the past few weeks.

  His eye caught mine, only briefly, and my heart sank. “What?” I asked, letting go of his shirt.

  “The SUV. It’s back.” He placed a finger to his lip to shush me and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He was actually texting. That’s how I knew it was serious and why I didn’t bite his finger off for shushing me.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered around his finger.

  “I got a partial plate. I’m gonna have Cruz run it.” He finished his text and sat the phone down in the cup holder.

  I looked around but didn’t see whatever it was that he saw. There were no cars anywhere on the road. “Aren’t we close to the hotel?”

  “Yes, that’s what worries me. It’s like they knew we were coming here.” His screen flashed, and he typed something quickly in response. I searched again but still saw nothing. Maybe this was just a ploy to find a quiet place to park. A girl could hope.

  “You’re pretty good with that for an old dude,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “You didn’t seem to think I was an ‘old dude’ a few minutes ago.” He flashed me a grin, a twinkle in those gorgeous, green eyes.

  “No, you certainly felt… virile.” I reached my hand back across the console. “Since we have time to kill,” I suggested, raising an eye brow and licking my newly red lips.

  Martin intercepted my hand and held it, firmly but also with a hint of intimacy, intertwining his fingers into mine. “I have to stay alert.” His eyes darted from side to side, watching the road on either side of us.

  “Alert is exactly what you were.” I leaned forward, my lips parted. I tried to wrestle my hand away, but he was too strong. The knowledge of his physical dominance over me made the thought of conquering him even more appealing.

  “I need my mind to be alert. And to do that, it needs blood.”

  We both laughed as his phone lit up again. He raised his brows to ask if he could trust me enough to let go. I nodded. After reading the message, he set the phone back down, not responding. He turned straight forward, put his hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, and sighed.

  I lifted a hand, this time to his arm, “What is it?”

  “Not sure yet. I think this thing goes higher than the Amara family. Much higher.” The weight of worry slunk his normally broad, high shoulders.

  We sat silently for a moment; I was afraid to lose the moment and have him realize my hand was still on him. But I had an idea. “We could ditch the car.”

  “I’m not ditching Rhonda!” His head snapped toward me.

  “Listen,” I patted his arm, “we’re close. Let’s just walk. I know the Bellmonte has security. They can help back you up.”

  Martin bit his lip. “They probably will have more security to prepare for the party crowd.”

  “Right. And we’d be in one room. Less doors to
watch.” I fished my heels out of the floorboard.

  “Wait!” He grabbed my arm. “I didn’t say yes.”

  I look at the time on his dashboard, almost ten. “The party’s already started. I want to say ‘good-bye’ to my friends. Most of them, I’ll never see again after tonight.” I put my hand on the door. “I’m going. Either follow or don’t.” With that, I climbed out of the truck and started up the alley, as briskly and determined as my heels would allow.

  “Dammit!” he whispered as loudly as he could from the truck. I heard the door slam but didn’t turn my head. I felt him gaining on me, his long legs carrying him faster than I could get away.

  Not looking where I was going, more worried about not turning to look at him, I stumbled over a manhole cover, twisting my ankle. I gasped in pain and bent down. Less than a second later, he was on me. “You hurt?” Martin felt all over me as if searching for a bullet wound. He threw his body on top of me.

  Pushing him off, I stood tall. “These damn shoes.”

  “Jesus!” he panted. “I thought—” He threw his arms up and walked off.

  “Wait up.” I tried to hobble a few paces behind him, nursing the sore ankle. “How are you gonna protect me from up there?”

  He stopped. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He put his arm around me, back in bodyguard mode; the intimacy we’d shared just moments earlier was gone. Its absence felt like a punch to the gut. I’d never allowed a man to have this much control over me before. I cursed my weakness as we walked in silence toward the Bellmonte.

  19

  Martin

  Two large security guards met us at the top floor of the Bellmonte, one tall and bald, the other shorter but stocky, both setting my mind at ease. However, I was sorely disappointed when they didn’t bother to frisk me. Even a cursory glance would tell a professional that I was carrying. As we exited the elevators, I made careful note of all the entry points, thankful that at least there were only two. The one we stood at, waiting for them to find her name on a clipboard, and one at the far right, which had a chair beside it. “Where’s that guard?” I asked, pointing at the empty post.

  The taller of the two guards looked at me closer. “Why?” His voice sounded laden with testosterone or growth hormone.

  “Just want to be sure Ms. Gen— Vanessa is safe in your establishment.” I stood at my full height, still not quite enough to meet his eyes straight on.

  “He’s tending to a matter. We have another event on the floor below.”

  That did not instill confidence in me, and when Vanessa pulled me along toward the now open door, I resisted. She squeezed my arm, digging her nails into me. “Don’t start, Martin.”

  Right after we stepped over the threshold and the door clicked shut behind us, Vanessa had a shot in her hand, pouring it into her mouth. A girl who didn’t look old enough to be there, or to be wearing that latex outfit, held out a hand to offer me one as well. I shook my head ‘no,’ and Vanessa downed it instead. “Woo!” she choked from the burn.

  “Easy.” I nudged her away from the shot girl.

  “You saw the security. It’s safe here. Let loose a little.” Vanessa turned abruptly, forcing me to bump into her, our bodies pressed firmly together. The closeness made my balls ache, I’m sure partly from the state we’d left them in earlier. She grazed the front of my pants with her leg, and the black skirt fell away. It was slit all the way to her hip. How did I miss that earlier? “Relax,” she purred.

  “Quite impossible with you around.” I blocked the next leg from grazing and ushered her in the room. The noise was unbearable. An electronic beat thundered in my ears, rattling my eardrums. “This can’t be what passes as music,” I yelled in her ear.

  “Careful, now. You might show your age.” Vanessa pulled me by my tie, and we wedged ourselves deeper into the crowd. I followed, close enough to see the shape of her ass jiggle beneath the sheer fabric.

  She swiftly snatched a glass of some bright blue liquid off another shot girl’s tray and threw back her head. “Slow down,” I commanded again.

  “Maybe you should try one. Take the edge off.” Vanessa took another from the second shot girl and offered it to me. “They’re sweet.”

  “I can’t. On the job.” I tried to take it, just to keep her from drinking it, but she was too fast. She placed the empty glass on the tray.

  “Come on.” She tugged my tie like a leash, and I tailed behind her obediently.

  Just as my senses returned and I swatted at her hand, a drunk twenty-something jock type grabbed Vanessa and twirled her around. “It’s about time, V! Let me get a look at that ass!”

  Vanessa lost her footing, tipping over her sore left ankle, and growled at the boy. “Chad, get off me!” She pushed him away, and he stumbled, beer spilling down the front of her shirt. “Dammit!” She shoved harder, and he landed on a plush couch. He stayed put, playing it off like he’d meant to sit down.

  Passing by him, I kicked his foot in what could be construed as an accident by an onlooker, but we both knew it was wasn’t. Drunk Chad looked down at his lap and sipped the last drops of beer in his cup. I caught up to Vanessa in time to see her storm into the ladies’ room, still cussing. I barged right in, not even thinking. “Are you okay?”

  She looked up at me, the front of her shirt soaked and clinging to her heaving chest. I could see the outline of her bra, and although she looked livid and dangerous, I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and pin her to the wall.

  “Stupid, immature jerk!” Vanessa grumbled as she lifted the shirt over her head. “Help me.”

  I didn’t move.

  “Help me clean this up,” she clarified.

  I ran some water and rinsed as much beer off the shirt as I could, then held it under the hand dryer. “Want my shirt?” I offered.

  “No. I think the alcohol’s kicking in. I’m on fire.” She smiled, her cheeks red. Then she ran her finger up the bridge of her nose at her invisible glasses, and I almost lost my composure. “What?” she asked, noticing my own smile broad across my face.

  “Just a thing you do. I like it.”

  She furrowed her brow. “What do I do?”

  “If I told you, you’d stop,” I admitted. I returned to my business of drying her shirt. A moment later, I felt her lean on me. I shuddered. The heat coming off her body was intense, and the softness of her breast pushing against my back was too much to bear. “Please, don’t. I can’t fight you right now.”

  “I’m not,” she slurred. I turned around to see the glassiness in her eyes.

  “Lightweight,” I laughed. I helped her get the still damp shirt over her head. “Let’s get you home.” I led her through the crowd, my body protecting her from any more drunk assholes.

  The hot night air hit us as we exited the Bellmonte, but she shivered, the light breeze flitting across her wet top. I removed my dress shirt and wrapped it around her, wondering to myself what I looked like out on the street with a t-shirt and a blue silk tie.

  It didn’t take long for Vanessa to become more inebriated, the full effect of four consecutive shots hitting her at once. I picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the car. As I lowered her into the back seat, she continued talking, more to herself. “I don’t want to go home. There’s nothing there. You won’t make love to me. You make me go to bed alone every night.” Her voice trailed off. It pained me to hear her talk that way, but I had no choice.

  My phone rang, and I fumbled to answer it before the Bluetooth blared it through the speakers.

  “This is Nurse Hilliard from Carmichael.” My heart sank.

  20

  Vanessa

  I couldn’t tell what was real and what was a dream. I had flashes of moments, fleeting as they were, where I thought I heard Martin talking. Was someone in the car with us? From what I could make out, it wasn’t good. He said, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Then I was out again.

  My next conscious thought was driving over a bumpy road. I d
idn’t remember any roads like that near the safe house. But I couldn’t drag myself into full consciousness enough to figure out what was going on. I cursed myself for drinking so much, trying to prove a point. What point… was lost on me at the moment.

  Coming out of the blackness again, I could hear Martin talking, and Cruz responding over the speaker. So we were definitely still in Rhonda. I patted the leather seat under my head as a silent ‘thank you’ for normalcy when I felt completely out of sorts.

  From what I could make out, Cruz was saying he couldn’t get to us; he was on the other side of town, tracking down that lead from earlier. In my haze, I couldn’t remember what lead, but it must have been important. He’d never tell Martin ‘no’ otherwise. Ugh, my head. Just what I needed.

  Another moment of black passed, and I realized we’d stopped. Martin was outside the car, and I saw flashing red and blue lights. I jumped up, fear shooting through me. He said something I couldn’t make out to a young-looking cop in a squad car. He pointed in my direction, then past me, and turned to look at me. Seeing that I was up, he came back to the truck. “I have to take care of something. This officer will watch out for you. Do. Not. Move.”

  “What? Wait? I’ll come with you.” I tried to gather my shoes from the floor. How had they come off?

  “You’re in no condition. It’ll only be a minute. Please.” The urgency in his voice stopped me.

  “Alright.” I lay back down and let the swaying of the world rock me back to sleep.

  I don’t know how much more time had passed, but when I awoke again, this time more fully, Martin was gone. And so was the cop. I looked around to get my bearings and realized that I was on the inside of a giant iron gate, which was open. The empty cop car was on the other side, and a black SUV had pulled up alongside it. In my gut, I knew something was terribly wrong, and I climbed out the door on the other side, away from the SUV.

 

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