Big Hard Bodyguard (Dominant Protectors Book 1)

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Big Hard Bodyguard (Dominant Protectors Book 1) Page 6

by Jack Ellison


  “Lead on. Bet they have nicer whiskey in there.” I almost flinched when she hooked her arm into mine, guiding me back to the First Class lounge. I felt a building of sexual tension as her hips and thighs pushed close to my leg, and she looked up at me, smiling, as we walked. I tried my best not to get aroused, and only half managed not to.

  Damn, girl. Hope you ain’t playing with me.

  Chloe

  I looked over at Axel, sitting on his own in a big leather chair in the corner of the lounge. He had a large whiskey in front of him which he was taking occasional small sips of. He was making a show of reading a newspaper, but I kept feeling his gaze wander towards me.

  After bringing him into the lounge we’d both grabbed a drink and chatted awkwardly for a moment. I could feel that his attention wasn’t completely on me, his eyes surveying the small pockets of passengers dotted around the spacious lounge. I didn’t like it.

  I plan on getting his full attention at some point. If he’s interested in me, that is…

  He was still frustratingly hard to read, especially when in his bodyguard mode.

  I had returned to my friends, and the excitement had died down somewhat for Jess and Amber. They looked bored.

  I was trying to engage her in meaningful conversation, and we chatted about the past, present and future plans. But my gaze kept wandering back to Axel’s scarred, chiselled face.

  A little while later we were called personally to board the plane, escorted by airport staff to the plane. Jess yawned. Amber was glued to her cell phone.

  Axel

  I followed along behind the girls as they left for the plane.

  Chloe had asked if I could board with them, and the staff were all too happy to oblige.

  Ain’t surprised, the amount her Dad paid for the tickets…

  We were first onto the plane, and I’d be able to keep tabs on everyone entering by Business or Economy. I’d checked out the rest of the passengers in the First Class Lounge. None struck me as remotely dangerous. Mainly rich families, and high-ranking executives.

  I left the girls to their huge personal suite in First Class and took my seat in Business Class, which was comfy enough. The seat reclined flat, boasting a length of 2m. Which gave me just over two spare inches.

  I sat at the front of Business, as close to Chloe as possible. I waved away the champagne offered to me as a pretty air attendant approached.

  “I’ll take a whiskey, darlin’. On the rocks.” She smiled and hurried off to oblige.

  I made a show of setting up my seat, standing regularly to survey the other passengers as they boarded. I even helped a few older ladies out with their cases, so I could get a better look at everyone around the cabin.

  Only one guy stood out, grim faced, observant. He was sizing me up, a calculated look in his eye. Trying to gauge if I was a threat.

  Don’t worry, Mr. Air Marshall. I ain’t a threat. To you, at least.

  Having decided there was no one worth spending any more time inspecting, I settled into my chair and pretended to relax.

  I just need to walk through Economy, and take a look upstairs, if they’ll let me. Then I can relax.

  The last few passengers boarded, and the crew made the final flight checks. The bustle of noisy activity washed over me, waves on an immovable rock. I was thinking, re-planning my route to the Paris hotel. I’d memorised the location of the safety deposit box, and would go there as soon as possible to collect my guns.

  Chloe

  I had watched Axel walk down into Business Class, longingly. I’d have upgraded his ticket, but First Class was full. I’d sighed, and resigned myself to getting comfy in my mini suite.

  An attendant asked if I was OK, and would I like some food or drinks?

  My mind flicked back to Axel, sitting on his own down in Business Class. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and felt a desperate need to be near his big, protective frame.

  I decided to take a quick shower in the suite, applying a bit of makeup and brushing my hair. I undid a few buttons at the top of my shirt, wondering if I should show a bit more cleavage. I fastened one back up, happy with the compromise, then left quickly, heading down to Business Class.

  And found Axel’s seat empty. My shoulders slumped slightly, and I crossed my arms.

  How did I manage to lose my bodyguard? He’s not exactly inconspicuous.

  I surveyed the rest of the cabin, and felt the eyes of a few men on me. I frowned back.

  There was no sign of Axel. I decided to sit in his seat and wait, fiddling with the controls for the entertainment system.

  Axel

  I’d wandered back into Economy after a while, trying my best to not look suspicious. I headed for the rear bathrooms, hoping the cabin crew would assume the other cubicles were occupied.

  I walked down the plane on the right, surveying the passengers as I did so. No one caught my eye until I reached the end of the plane.

  Sneaky bastards…

  There were three men sitting in a row on the right, near the end of economy. All three looked hard, grim faced; eastern european or perhaps Russian, it was hard to tell. They had all spotted me as I’d been walking up the plane, and were trying their best to look nonchalant. I wasn’t fooled.

  The words of one of my contacts rang in my ears. The warning I’d been given about a Russian crew out to get get their hands on Chloe’s Dad’s software. Possible high level organized crime, or even secret military.

  My gut told me these guys were serious. They looked mean, scarred and vicious.

  Why would three Russians be heading to Paris, from San Francisco? Flying right at the back in Economy, as far as possible from my seat as they could get?

  I looked around - the majority of the people near me were asleep or watching a film. I approached the three men, putting my hands on the seats on either side of the aisle in front of them.

  “Having a nice flight, comrades?” They looked up at me, blank expressions on their faces. I caught one of them smiling meanly for a second. I knew he’d understood. The Russian in the aisle seat waved his hand at me dismissively, saying something in Russian that didn’t sound very nice.

  “What’s that, Dmitry? Got a problem?”

  I paused and leant forward toward him.

  “‘Cause if you have, that means I’ve got a problem. And I don’t think you’ll fucking like that very much,” I said, grimacing menacingly, feeling the adrenaline pump into my muscles. I tensed my arms, gripping the seats tight.

  My gaze flicked to the bathrooms either side of the aisle. Both were unoccupied.

  The Russian rose to his full height, a good few inches shorter than me. He didn’t look intimidated. He shrugged as if to dismiss me, and pushed me in my chest. He turned his back and headed for a cubicle, hoping that I was just a random angry American who didn’t like Russians.

  Well, he was right about the latter. But my approach wasn’t random.

  As he stepped into the cubicle I swiftly forced my way in, locking the door behind me. In the small confines of the cubicle, he was no match for my brute strength. I laid into him savagely with body blows, a series of powerful punches to the chest, abdomen, stomach, with one final uppercut into his solar plexus. He collapsed, winded and in pain.

  “Listen, you fuck,” I spat at him, my finger an inch away from his face. “I know why you’re here. I know what you want, and you ain’t getting it. If I see you or any of your friends again, you won’t be fucking breathing next time.” He nodded, gasping for air and clutching his chest.

  I pushed the cubicle door open, to find the other two Russians staring at me. They made no move. Now would not be a good time for them to show their true colours, I suspected.

  I snorted at the pair derisively, walking back to my seat, my blood up.

  As I walked away, I heard the door open to the bathroom cubicle. After a moment of bemused silence, the two Russians started laughing heartily at their colleague, who was presumably still half collapse
d on the toilet floor.

  I arrived back at my seat to find it occupied. I could see a head poking above the seat, with headphones on. I approached quietly to see who had snuck into my seat, but if I had to guess…

  I looked over the top of the seat, and got a view straight down Chloe’s shirt, and found myself staring at the mounds of her breasts, the top of her frilly pink bra clearly visible. The fight had made me feel alive, and the view of Chloe’s large breasts, rising and falling gently, had awoken a feeling within me that I’d long suppressed.

  I stood still, not wanting to move my gaze. I didn’t know if she had felt me approach. If she had, the longer I waited, the more of a pervert I looked. But I was enjoying looking, that was for damn sure.

  I decided she hadn’t sensed my approach, and reluctantly drew my gaze away from her cleavage after a few more seconds. I laid a large hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She jumped.

  “Oh, hi Axel. You made me jump!” She looked up at me and put her hand on top of mine, trapping it in place on her shoulder. I felt a tingle of pleasure at her touch.

  “Sorry for stealing your seat. I came down to check on you.” She smiled at me, reassuringly.

  So who’s looking after who here, beautiful?

  “I’m all good, Chlo’. Just had to take a look ‘round, you know. No trouble to be found.”

  We locked eyes for a few long seconds, holding each other’s gaze.

  Damn, I want to kiss you.

  “How’s things up there?” I said, gesturing with my head towards first class.

  She gazed into my eyes for a few long seconds. I got the impression that the minutiae of the First Class experience was definitely not what was on her mind.

  “It’s great, thanks. Oh apart from Jess and Amber. They’re starting to grate on my nerves already!”

  Her hand was still on mine, and I felt her squeeze it gently. “Why don't you come back up to First with me? They’ve got a bar there. You said there isn’t any trouble down here anyway. Plus we still have about three hours left until we get to Paris.”

  I could see her looking up at me, expectantly, her large brown eyes sparkling...

  Only trouble on here is those Russians. And they won’t try anything on the plane, that's for damn sure. Fuck it, could use a drink. And wouldn’t mind looking at Chloe for a few hours, either.

  “You got yourself a deal, miss,” I said, with an attempted smile. It was more of a rough grimace, but she smiled back nonetheless.

  I frowned, looking up at the curtain between us and the stairs to First Class. I put on a serious, hard face, my big jaw muscles bunching. “One thing though. If they don’t let me up there, there’ll be trouble.”

  She frowned at me for a second, and then burst out laughing.

  Chapter Nine

  Axel

  We spent the next two hours or so sitting at the bar in First Class, talking. I was amazed to find a fully stocked, large bar complete with bar stools and friendly barman. I found that he was a bit too friendly for my liking, and he pissed me off even more when he occasionally thought he was part of our conversation. Chloe had found it tremendously entertaining when, after the third try at butting in, I’d told him in no uncertain terms to mind his own damn business.

  I wasn't one for deep conversation, but I found talking to Chloe was easy. She was friendly, intelligent, sassy, and talkative. She more than made up for my social ineptitude.

  She had pressed me on my past, and I had reluctantly told her a few details. I had told her about my stint in the military, and even mentioned my ex-wife and her infidelity. Chloe had merely nodded sagely at me, her eyes half closed. I felt like I was being analyzed.

  We were now approaching our first destination, the luxury hotel in Paris. Chloe’s Dad had paid for a big, blacked out Mercedes saloon to be ready for me at the airport. Jess and Amber complained about the quality of the bottle of champagne in the central unit between them in the rear.

  Chloe sat in the passenger's seat, and I could feel her gaze on me occasionally. When I had the chance, I’d look at her. She’d be smiling up at me, her hand absently playing with her hair.

  Well, the girl is definitely sending me signals. This is bad fucking news. Keep it together, Axel.

  I stopped the train of thought before it distracted me from getting to our destination. I’d memorised three routes in case we were tailed, though after leaving the plane there had been no sign of our three Russian friends.

  I was starting to get nervous. My long dormant libido had been aroused, and I was developing feelings for Chloe. Lack of emotion for so long left me confused at the turmoil I felt. And overriding it all was a desire to keep the girl safe, to wrap my arms protectively around her and not let her go.

  It was distracting me from my job, and I didn’t like it. I started to get pissed off at myself as we approached the hotel.

  “We’re here, gals,” I said gruffly as I pulled up outside the grand front entrance to the hotel. As soon as I’d parked, the girls doors were opened by attendants, and two bell boys began unloading the trunk.

  “About time,” muttered Amber. I suspected the ten hours or so of drinking had taken their toll on the two girls in the back. They looked like shit.

  Chloe still looked radiant. She’d been sensible and had interspersed her alcoholic drinks with water and the occasional coffee.

  I took the girls into the hotel while they checked in, memorising their room numbers.They were on the top floor of the hotel, presumably in a large penthouse suite.

  After they’d been checked in and I was confident they were safe, I left to get my guns from the safety deposit box across the street.

  Chloe

  Axel was a mystery. Just as I saw him start to open up, his rusty emotions showing through his gruff facade, but they’d suddenly faded quicker than they had appeared. He looked in turmoil, and angry.

  All I wanted to do was to make him feel better. In the way only a woman could.

  I’d been confused and slightly upset at his distance, which made me want him even more.

  Axel

  The next few days I decided to keep my distance from Chloe, for two reasons. Firstly, I was making sure she didn’t distract me from my job. We were now in a place where serious danger could present itself at any moment. And I wanted to stay sharp.

  Secondly, I needed time to try and make sense of the feelings that had suddenly risen within me. I felt that Chloe was special, and I’d fallen for her much quicker than I’d imagined possible. Even with my hard demeanour and my criminal, almost brutal past, I found myself afraid that I would get hurt. Which made me push her away even more.

  Fuck it Axel. Make a decision. Ain’t gonna be no second chance with this girl. Take her or leave her alone.

  Chloe spent the next five days with her two friends, who had spent the days shopping and spending far too much money on shit they didn’t really need. They’d spent the nights partying at expensive nightclubs, at extravagant pool parties, big mansions and even once on a luxury Yacht which was moored on the river.

  I’d stayed with them throughout, but kept my distance. Partying ain’t my thing, I’d decided about fifteen years ago.

  What’s the point in going somewhere where the music’s so loud you can’t even hear yourself, let alone anyone else. How’s a man supposed to enjoy his drink? And how the fuck do you talk to a girl if she can’t hear what you’re saying…?

  I’d become a silent, protective figure. Chloe was the only one of the trio who even noticed me, and she gave me the occasion smile, sometimes waved. She even came over to speak to me once or twice, when her friends were goading some drunken rich guys.

  She’d told me she was getting pissed off with her friends, who only wanted to look good, party and sleep with random men. Chloe had been laughed at when she’s mentioned visiting a museum, or even going out just for a fancy meal instead of getting drunk.

  I’d told her just to do what she wanted, and fuck what her
friends thought.

  “You ain’t gonna be in Paris forever, Chlo’. Gotta make the most of it. Fuck what those two pair of airheads think,” I’d said to her, gesturing to her friends who were taking selfies with some half dressed guys, showing off their top heavy, gym sculptured bodies. It was the most words I’d spoken in one go since we’d chatted on the plane, and she’d beamed at me, glowing radiantly from the small bit of attention I’d given her.

  As it turned out, she’d taken my advice and had persuaded the girls to visit a few museums during the day, and even talked them into dining at one of Paris’ most exclusive restaurants that evening.

 

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