The Guardian: A NOVEL

by Pamela Ann

  One look at Wyatt’s familiar face cemented a decision for me. “Tonight. That’s it. No more sleepovers after this, got it?” I reluctantly said, “And we’re not going to do anything sexual, so if you’re thinking otherwise, you can shove it somewhere else, thank you.”

  “I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he swore as we began to stroll towards the lift.

  While Wyatt was pleased with the outcome, my guilt gnawed at me. My promise to Jared couldn’t even survive a full twenty-four hours. Frankly, I felt horrid about it. But the mere thought of being alone tonight simply daunted me.

  This whole sleeping dependency only surfaced the moment Jared had shared my bed every night for a straight month. His warmth and the absolute sense of security and protection he provided during those nights had left a mark on me. Hence, my reluctance tonight.

  19

  Jared

  “St. James.”

  “Sir, I’m calling for the update you requested earlier tonight.” Mike’s stern, clipped voice filtered through the phone’s speaker while I continued encoding the prototype Peter hadn’t completed before his parting.

  With unparalleled concentration, my eyes darted back and forth across the screen with as my fingers rapidly keyed in data. “Go on.”

  After leaving her bedroom earlier, I intended to go home, but instead, I found myself driving back to the headquarters to keep working on this new project. The moment I entered my domain, I immediately speed-dialed Mike to inform me the second Gisele got home because I found it impossible to resist her tonight after what she and I had just shared. My body craved her like a drug. Tonight proved my resistance was in shambles. Why keep denying what my body had been imploring to ravage unceasingly? The constricted narrow channel in between her thighs was a mortal man’s Eden. The rush it gave my body each time the head of my cock pierced through her snug opening was the ultimate nirvana. The sensation her cunt bestowed upon me as I pillaged her, greedily clamping down on my length, sucking me back into her sweet depths was absolute ecstasy. Or witnessing her abandon any inhibitions by allowing me to use her body merely as an object of pleasure. It was sheer unmitigated euphoria. Giving her up after experiencing her blooming and accepting her sensual nature would be ludicrous.

  Coming to terms with my cock-driven decision took some getting used to. However, the moment my mind took hold of the idea, I fathomed tremendous strength would be implemented to resolve fighting through my long-standing demons. Nevertheless, I was fairly prepared to face the ghosts of my past, no matter how agonizing it implied or in spite of the arduous mental obstacles it entailed. The cost was high—I understood as much—but I didn’t have the wherewithal to give her up anymore. No, Gisele was mine. I claimed her as mine.

  My magnificent nymph. Oh, the things I dreamed of teaching her…

  Mike cleared his throat, halting my meandering, wanton thoughts. “Miss Weber’s back, sir. She arrived fifteen minutes ago.”

  Fifteen minutes ago? I frowned. “I specifically asked the second she arrives, Mike. Clearly, you’ve misunderstood me. Nevertheless, thank you all the same.”

  “No, sir, I heard you loud and clear, but my gut told me to wait before informing you Wyatt Rinaldi hasn’t come out of the house since they arrived.”

  The head of security knew I’d be ticked off about Wyatt Rinaldi. The past month, he’d been rather selective when providing me with Gisele’s whereabouts since I had all but given up on it. Now, after witnessing her being devoured like a blasted buffet on the kitchen counter, I hadn’t dared to check twice in fear of what I might see next.

  My jaw gravely clenched as I tried to rationally comprehend what Mike had just stated. “Check the recordings. Tell me where Rinaldi is right now,” I gritted out as my hand gripped my knee, disconcerted beyond measure. She had promised. Moronic to admit, but I had actually held on to her word. Was she capable of retracting such a vehement declaration in a matter of hours?

  In the background, I could hear him typing something. Mike’s assertive voice came back on a minute later. “He followed her into her bedroom, sir. He’s definitely in there. Most likely staying the night, too. He usually does if he doesn’t leave after five to ten minutes after dropping her off.”

  Wretched fuck! How often did this cretin sleep with her?

  “Are you quite positive he hasn’t left? Check the footage again, Mike!” I sounded demented, but I didn’t give a bloody fuck. Before I did anything drastic, I urgently needed an infallible guarantee the besotted bastard was with her. This was critical—to me, anyway.

  “He’s still in there. I have time stamps. Do you need me to send the footage?”

  “No need,” I bitterly growled into the phone. “Don’t call but do text me when Rinaldi leaves—immediately, Mike. Not five, not ten, not fifteen minutes later. The second the prick steps out of the front door, you bloody well inform me!” I thundered, out of my mind and incensed beyond comprehension.

  After ending the blasted call, I mindlessly stared at the screen as images of her aroused and obliging flashed before my very eyes. Wanton and alluring, Gisele proved to be quite the raging harlot these days. Oh, how she bloody misled me!

  I love you. There’s no shame in that, she ardently promised hours ago.

  Oh, yeah, she was so bloody overwhelmed with her declarations of love that she could hardly stop herself from spreading it around, now could she? In the throes of unbridled passion with Wyatt Rinaldi no less.

  “YOU DECEITFUL BITCH!” I bellowed into my expansive office space, white hot with rage, wholly consumed by her betrayal and the lies she fed me.

  I loathed believing her deceit. There was no need for promises. I sure as hell didn’t demand it. And yet, she did it, anyway, and by doing so, it chipped a huge chunk of my armor as I unconsciously let myself trust she’d only have me from here on out.

  Well, more was I the fool.

  What was the point of being celibate the past month, anyway? Rose had been placed on the backburner because my thoughts occupied another. But sex was sex…Still, something provoked me to take such drastic measures to remain clean, free from traces of another woman’s touch and carnal essence.

  I did it…for her. It was my way of punishing myself for leaving her, and yet, look where that got me tonight. Utterly nowhere.

  The evil side of me injected the idea of barging in on them, but another side argued that this could be for the best. This was what I had wanted in the beginning, wasn’t it?

  Once upon a time, I had—before tonight transpired, before I savored how the wretched woman ignited with lecherous passion in my arms, dominated by an unfurling necessity for completion.

  I supposed she had been left unsatisfied after orgasming twice. The lascivious woman coveted more. She had stated her plans on shagging Wyatt tonight. It seemed that plan remained intact. If not mistaken, Rinaldi was fucking her right this very moment…seeking the same warm crevice I vacated hours ago, with my seed aiding him to fuck her better. Well, good on them then. Truly.

  What makes you think you weren’t fucking her with Wyatt Rinaldi’s nut coating your dick, too?

  BLOODY FUCKING CHRIST. “Damn you, Gisele! God damn you!” My body turned rigid, literally revolted at the thought of her being so filthy.

  And the wench had the gall to claim herself a virgin at Hank Rinaldi’s party? Yeah, right. If she was, the I’m the bloody fucking Pope.

  Ah, the vixen named Lexi Anne. I didn’t even bloody know where to start with this madness.

  The intricate web of lies she weaved. She spun so many I was left astounded by it all. Gisele’s vindictiveness was dumbfounding. I had to hand it to her; she was truly such a great actress. The deceitful woman had tricked me twice, and on both counts, I hadn’t seen them coming. I actually trusted her even after I walked in on her dressed as Lexi. It seemed my idiocy knew no bounds where she was concerned. I was a fool for letting a brat into my life. These childish amusements were juvenile, just like the fibber herself. Touchin
g her should’ve been out of the question. But at that time, resisting her had been a sweet torture for me. Her enthusiasm, her quiet elegance, not to mention her stunning beauty made her irresistible in my eyes.

  Maybe this was her way of payback—all those rejected nights I held her to sleep had come into a vile fruition. Perhaps I deserved her vindictive mind games. After a devious successful night, she must be glowing with pride for out-maneuvering me each time.

  Women.

  There was a reason barriers were erected. For years, I’d successfully eluded manipulative women. Gisele Weber’s cunningness put them all to shame. The kitten had claws, and how deep those sharpened talons pierced through her victims.

  The mindfuck commenced, but instead of hastily dropping by on them unannounced, I stuck to my resolve and remained seated while I infuriatingly continued working on the prototype. While doing so, I endured several phases of anger. The betrayal coiled into something incredibly grotesque and abominable. It was volatile. Unpredictable. Impulsive.

  The last phase finalized to insouciance. Once I had found her endearing, enchanting. Never had I ever been so disillusioned. Well, she could go on with her infantile games, but I was done actively playing the part. The entertainment was kaput.

  This time, I sincerely meant it.

  It was seven in the morning when I emerged out of the company building. It was the same exact moment Mike’s message pealed into my phone, exacting my demand hours prior.

  Rinaldi just left. Alone, it said.

  My jaw locked. My resolve, undiminishing. “She doesn’t matter anymore. Rinaldi can have her all to himself.” Gisele Weber had no hold on me. Thank the fucking gods, I was free—free from the wretched guilt that consumed me these past weeks. I could live the life I once reveled in.

  Unperturbed, I slid my phone back into my trousers before pulling out my car keys, set to begin my Saturday morning in a much jovial manner.

  Exhausted as I was, I left the headquarters feeling quite relieved. With Gisele’s deceits exposed, the ardent, undying hunger within me that she alone could satisfy had all diminished down to nothingness. The guilt that plagued me for the past month after rejecting her in the closet that one afternoon had vanished. I was wholly unburdened by it all. Leaving no hindrance in seeking Rose’s body once again. An inviting, warm, pliable body that indubitably could quench my desires. My pent-up hate, frustrations, cravings, and everything in between would be channeled into Rose’s willing body.

  And that was where I was heading and where I’d be seeking for days and nights to come.

  Gisele Weber shall not and will not stop me ever again.

  20

  Gisele

  Thank you for the present. I’m so excited to ride it. You have no idea how much I love the idea of his and hers. I miss you. Come back to me again…last night left me craving you. And I crave you, every minute of the day. Endlessly.

  Sent.

  Casually resting my head against the cool leather of the engine-red headrest, a cat-like grin played on my lips as my eyes took in his generous gift—a white DB11 Aston Martin. His black.

  Black and white.

  His and hers.

  Jared and Gisele.

  St. James?

  Yes, I giggled and blushed like the total idiot that I am.

  Wyatt hadn’t necessarily behaved as he promised. He tried to get me underneath him five times. All attempts were unsuccessful. Though he held me to put me to sleep, I barely got any shuteye, dreading that he might try once I’d fallen asleep. And in doing so, I’d be muddled with sleepiness and confusion, most likely mistaking him for Jared as I welcomed his advances.

  Regret occupied the rest of my night as I pretended to sleep while replaying Jared in my mind. It was too much of a torture, a mishap I wouldn’t dare commit again.

  The second Wyatt left my bedroom, I immediately opened the drawer on my side table. Words couldn’t express how thrilled I was as I grappled the key into my hand. It wasn’t about the extravagant gift per se, but what it implied.

  Surely this signified something, right? I mean, why would a man, a man who continuously reminded me he didn’t want to be with me, gift a car that was the same as his?

  It couldn’t just be a coincidence or a plain ole random thought…or could it?

  No. Random thoughts were a rarity to his ilk.

  Jared was calculated. God designed him significantly better than the rest. His brainwaves worked unorthodoxly than most fair-minded individuals. Randomness wasn’t part of his DNA. Just like my father. Even to the last breath, everything had been premeditated. Jared was no different.

  So, this vehicle—this had to mean something substantial. It just had to. Even for Jared, this present wasn’t accidentally bought. He could’ve purchased anything, something non-related to him. And yet, he did. So, in turn, I’m left to ponder if he was slowly wrapping his mind around me, around the thought of us together.

  “Please,” I whispered desperately, beckoning him to come back. My hand lingered on the wheel, caressing as I appreciated the texture of the new leather on my fingertips. “Where are you, Jared?”

  I painstakingly envisioned him. The unadulterated ecstasy marring his gorgeous face, a look that signaled his restraint’s about to be unshackled. A debauched expression indicating he was on the brink of capitulating to his baser instincts. A mixture of reckless raptures and pure awe as his monstrous girth stressed through my narrow passage, excruciatingly stretching my canal as he harshly plunged deeper into my core.

  I marveled at the glorious feel of him moving within my body, spreading me, wildly fucking me into exquisite oblivion. And how superb he fucked.

  Involuntarily, my pussy clenched as though he was still within me, pounding into me savagely.

  God, I wanted more of it. More of him.

  Merely donning my silk robe, I absentmindedly sat inside the interior of the car, door ajar, daydreaming in this sleek sex machine of a car, stimulated more than ever.

  Thoughtlessly, I reached for my phone, which I had haphazardly tossed earlier on the passenger’s seat due to uncontained bubbling excitement. I’d since calmed down a peg or two.

  Cheery as I excitedly bit on my lip, I dialed his number. It went unanswered. Jared woke up early, so there was no reason for him not to be awake. Or could he be working out with his katanas with that Japanese swordsman as well? “Let me try again.” I re-dialed his name. After the third ring, he picked up. I was about to enthusiastically greet him when a woman’s raspy voice came on the line.

  “Hello?”

  Was this his assistant? Her name was Audrey, right? I believed so. “Hi, Audrey. It’s Gisele Weber. Is the big boss available?”

  There was a lengthened pause.

  “Sorry, this is Rose, his girlfriend not his assistant. Jared’s asleep. We’ve been kind of busy catching up…He literally just passed out less than ten minutes ago.

  If it’s that important, I can wake him. If not, I’m more than willing to relay a message the second he wakes up.”

  Rose.

  His Rose.

  The Rose.

  “No, there’s no need.” I drastically ended the call in case Rose decided to spout off more than I could handle. After all, clearly, revealing herself to me had me in all sorts of a limbo. The whiplash I suffered from her haughty correction had me reeling.

  Fuck me sideways. Here I was, fantasizing about the fucker while he’d been boning his girlfriend. Did she know about me or the fact that I had him last night? More importantly, did she give a damn if he did? Perhaps not.

  Jared, though he maintained one woman at a time, liked his women compliant to his needs, whether it was satiated by her or by someone else. And on this occasion, I was the someone else.

  I was the other woman. His side chick. His plaything. His dirty little secret.

  The realization hit me. Hard.

  How could he succeed in making me feel as though I was his sole universe and immediately get into a
nother woman’s vagina right after? It was heartless. Totally beyond callous. Especially after I confessed I’d been in love with him all this time.

  “Typical Jared move. Why didn’t I even consider this?” Hastily scramming out of the Aston Martin, I left the car in the garage without wanting to see it ever again.

  Would he even call me back when Rose informed him I called? If he did, what would I even say? He wasn’t necessarily cheating on me since we weren’t together. But it still hurt. It wounded me as though he did cheat, betraying in the most painful of ways.

  Out of nowhere, the large black hulk of a man, Malik, one of the ground’s security, approached me, asking if I needed anything else just when I was about to enter the house.

  Easing my contorted face, I shook my head. “No, but here,” I said, handing him the key. “Take it for a spin. At least it’ll be of some use. Better yet, why don’t you take your girl out on a date? I’ll take care of the reservations and everything.”

  The ex-Seal gazed at me with absolute uncertainty. “Mr. St. James won’t be cool about that.”

  I snickered. “It’s my present, so I get to do what I want with it, and right now, I want you to take your lovely pregnant woman out for a date.”

  He reluctantly took the keys before whispering, “But I’m on duty.”

  That could easily be remedied. “You’re free to go, Malik. If Mike or Johnson need confirmation, have them call me. Before you leave, see Thomas. He’ll have everything set by then. Cool?” I eyed him with amusement as I took in his astounded expression.

  When he didn’t respond, I did more talking. “Come on, my day started out shitty. If I’m not happy, at least someone else should be. Do it as a favor to me.”