by Anna Brooks
GUARDING HER BOOK 3
ANNA BROOKS
Nobody gets in their way and nothing will stop them.
These are the men of Royal Ace Security.
Copyright © 2018 Anna Brooks
Published by Anna Brooks
Cover design by Cover Couture
Editing by Editing4Indies
Proofreading by Kimberly Holm
Formatting by Champagne Book Design
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Notes and stuff
Previews
Other Books
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Dedication
For Emily.
Thank you for believing in me.
You mean the world to me and I am honored to call you my friend.
Prologue
Wesley
The photo in my hand cuts through my flesh like razor blades. Blades. Plural. Dozens, no hundreds of them searing through my skin. Graham leans back in his chair, the metal screeching as his heavy frame sinks deeper into the leather. “There’s more.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t need to see more.”
“Fuckin’ hate this for you, man. But then again, I get to relieve you of that bitch, so there’s a silver lining.”
Normally, I wouldn’t tolerate someone saying that about Eva. Even if I always knew deep down it was true. But fuck that, not anymore. “You want cash or a card?” I hired Graham, one of the PIs at Royal, off the books.
He kicks his feet up on his oak desk and crosses his ankles. “Man, if you think I’m charging you a penny, you’re dumber than I thought.”
“Don’t want charity,” I grit out. “I hired you to do a fuckin’ job, and you did it.”
“It wasn’t hard, Wes. Bitch isn’t the sharpest knife.”
She’s not. What she is, is hot as hell. Dark, dark hair, almost black, and exotic gold-tinted eyes. Killer rack and an ass that fits perfectly in my hands. But that’s where the extent of anything good ends. I’ve known her since we were twelve years old. Despite warnings from my friends, I let her in when I should have slammed the door in her face. Over and over again.
She was my first love… my first everything. She’s the woman my grandma expects me to have kids with. But she’s also about to be the last bitch I let play me.
“I owe you.” Before he can protest and tell me we’re square, I turn on my heel and walk out as calmly as I can even though I’m vibrating with rage. And embarrassed I didn’t see this earlier. Sure, I suspected it, but I’ve been gone so much that I didn’t want the few days I was home to be spent fighting with her. I wanted them to be spent fucking her since I was an idiot and stayed faithful to her. I was always faithful to her. When we were together, it was always just her.
On my way out to the parking garage, I nod at a couple of guys but make it clear I’m not in the mood for conversation.
My Hummer growls as I pull out onto the street. I push the limits as if going ninety-five down the interstate will make this shit fuckin’ better.
Since I’m not home often, I’ve never bothered getting a bigger place. An apartment is perfect for me even though I’m thirty years old. A lot of guys from Royal live in this same complex, though. Except for Noble, he has a kickass cabin in the woods. And the guys who are married have their own homes, of course.
I grab an entire six-pack from the fridge and sit on the couch to wait. I stare at the door. A half an hour goes by, then another one, and before I know it, it’s been three. The lock disengages, and she waltzes in, carrying a fuckin’ shopping bag in her hand like fuckin’ always.
She jumps. “Wes. Hi, baby. I didn’t know you were going to be home already.”
I don’t answer, only raise a brow.
“Hmm.” She drops the bag and bites her Botoxed lip as she makes her way to me. “I should welcome you home then, shouldn’t I?” In front of me, she seductively lowers herself to the ground. When her hands reach for my jeans, I grab her wrist.
“Ya know what I like so much about right now, Eva?”
She licks her lips. “What, baby?”
“That when you get home, the first thing you do is drop down so you can get to my cock.”
“You’ve got a great cock, baby.”
“Yeah?” I lean forward. “You like it, don’t you?”
Her thighs rub together, and she nods. “You know I do.”
“You know what else I like?”
“What, baby?”
God, she really thinks she’s fuckin’ fooling me with this shit. “I like it when you take your clothes off.”
She puts her hands on my knees, pointed red nails dragging across the denim, and rolls herself up, then keeps her eyes on me as she strips. I lean back and take a swallow of beer, wondering what the fuck I ever saw in her.
A smile full of braces and overalls with holes in the knees. That was what I saw. A sweet girl who I used to play with on the playground and somehow, some way, turned into an ungrateful, lying, manipulative bitch.
I didn’t see it. I was blind to her. She knows my weaknesses and found a way to play them.
But no more.
Once she’s naked, I motion to the ground. “Get back down, Eva.”
She complies and reaches for my jeans again, but I shake my head. “You wet for me?”
“Always.”
“Show me.”
She slides her hand down her body, between her legs, and moans when she slides a finger inside herself. Bringing it back up, she proudly shows me the evidence of her arousal.
“Good, Eva. But there’s one more thing.”
“Yeah, baby?” She tugs on her nipples.
“Where you are right now? Naked, wet, needy… on your knees.”
Her fingers continue their assault on her tits, and she bites her lip. “Just like you like me.”
“The best part about it is you only get like this for me, right?”
Her eyes flash, but she blinks, and whatever guilt was there vanishes. “Yeah, baby. Only you,” she purrs.
Lying fucking bitch. “All the time we spent apart, I always looked forward to coming home because I knew I’d get to see you like this.” I reach in my pocket and pull out a ring. It’s big. Square and set in a band of diamonds. “I got this for you a while ago.”
She gasps, her hands fly to her mouth. “Wes.”
“You wanna wear my ring?”
“Yes.”
“H
mm.” I unzip my jeans and take my cock out. “Show me how much.”
She dives in, sucking me to the back of her throat like a goddamn vacuum. If she’s anything, she’s a queen at giving head. I grab her hair, squeezing harder than I probably should, but she only moans around me, sitting up straighter as I stand. I hold her still and fuck her face, getting myself there as fast as I can, needing to get this shit over with. When my balls tighten up, I pull out and angle her head up, then shoot my load all over her throat. She licks her lips and presses her thighs together as I pull my jeans back up.
Her fingers glide through my cum as she brings her hand down her chest and between her legs.
“You like wearing my necklace?”
“You know I do.”
“I’m glad you like it. But”—I bend down, my lips close to hers—“that’s the last piece of jewelry you’ll ever get from me, you lying, cheating slut.”
“What?” Her mouth falls open, and she scrambles to stand. “Wesl—”
“Shut the fuck up, Eva. You think I’m fuckin’ stupid? Think you could play me?”
She reaches for her clothes, and I smirk at my cum dripping down her chest. “You asshole.”
“Get your shit and get out.” I sit on the couch, kick my feet up on the coffee table, and pop the top off another beer.
“Fuck you, Wesley!” She slides her shorts back on and wipes her chin. “You’re such a dick.”
I ignore her antics and click the TV on. How am I a dick? She’s been cheating on me. For months. Probably years. I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, and she betrayed me in the absolute worst and most degrading way possible.
“I was willing to be with you even though you’re not a real man.” She slides her shirt over her head without a bra. “Good luck ever finding a woman who will want to be with a man who can’t give her a baby.”
I finally lose my shit, and the beer bottle goes flying across the room and shatters a foot away from her head. “Get the fuck out.”
Chapter 1
Wesley, three months later
“Hey.” I reach over the mahogany table and stick my hand out, dwarfing Quinn Valentine’s tiny one in mine. “Nice to officially meet you.”
“Same. Thank you for doing this. I know it’s last minute and…”
I lean against the wall, crossing my booted feet. “It’s all good. It’s why we’re here.”
“Okay.” Her long blond hair flows down around her in waves. Makeup light for what she usually wears and her outfit pretty conservative. Normally, she’s in tight pants or short skirts with her midriff exposed and low-cut tops displaying more than enough cleavage. Today, her blue jeans are tight, but on top, she’s got on a chunky pink sweater with sleeves that go down to her white painted short fingernails.
This assignment is going to be no different than any other. A pop star with a stalker is nothing new. I’ve been lead on two other cases similar to this, and both times, it only took a week before the assholes were caught.
“I asked to see you alone because my job isn’t to make anyone else happy, it’s to keep you safe. Usually what everyone else thinks you need isn’t that at all.”
Her head bobs. “How’d you guess?” she asks dryly.
I shrug my shoulders. “So tell me, Quinn. What do you need from me, aside from keeping you safe?”
“Um, I…” She maintains our locked gazes, her bright blue orbs hypnotic. “I, uh… I’m just paranoid, I guess.”
“Why?”
“I was attacked.”
I pull out the chair across from her and sit down. “I know.”
Her nails strum on the tabletop. “The police don’t think he’s gonna come back, but, uh, I’m not so sure.”
“Because he said he was coming back, right?”
She presses her lips together.
“Just in not so many words?”
“Yeah.”
“So you’re not paranoid.”
Instead of answering me, she looks over my shoulder.
“Quinn. I’m not asking. I’m telling you. You’re not paranoid. And whoever said you were is full of shit.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you.” She yawns and lifts an arm when she stretches. In the process, her sweater lifts a little bit to reveal a flat stomach. But that’s not what I’m looking at. I reach over the table and pull up her shirt a little more. “What are you doing?”
“How’d you get those bruises?”
She yanks the shirt back down and crosses her arms. “I’m very active. Routines and stuff. When dancers have to lift me. It happens.”
“This’ll go a lot better if you don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
We’re at a stalemate because she’s not budging. The small bruises, all different shades, are not something done by accident. They’re strategically placed where they’re not visible and can be covered by her clothing.
“I don’t sleep.” She changes the subject. “I haven’t slept through the night since it happened, and it’s affecting my performances. My manager said I need to figure it out, so…”
“So you need me to make sure he can’t get to you at night again?”
She nods.
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll make sure he can’t get to you ever. I’ll also make sure whoever the fuck did that to you never touches you again.”
Quinn
I pull into my driveway and park my car in front of the porch. Before I step out, I look in my rearview mirror and watch Wesley’s muscular frame hop down from his vehicle. God, he’s really hot. Dark hair and the same color trimmed beard. Corded arms and butt that looks better in jeans than mine does. He saunters over to me, and I scramble to shut the ignition off and grab my purse. He opens my door, and I step out, unusually awkward around the sexy bodyguard.
“Your security is shit.”
“What?”
“You have a gate but no guard.”
I shrug. It’s not ideal, but I live in a gated and guarded neighborhood. Security drives around all the time, even at night. And since the property has a gate you have to be buzzed in to get through and an alarm system, I never felt the need to have a guard during the day. Or at night actually. In my own house, I don’t feel unsafe… or at least I didn’t until that night. If anything, I feel like I’m trapped in here, and nobody will ever come to save me. “I type in the code.”
“Yeah, and what’s stopping him from walking through and following you into the garage?”
My cheeks heat, and I look over his shoulder. “I don’t park in the garage right now.”
“Why?”
Another shrug.
“Because you’re afraid he’s gonna be in there, and then you’ll be trapped with him.”
Okay, how does he know everything? “I guess.”
“Jesus,” he mutters to himself and motions for me to go ahead of him. I unlock the door and type the code into the alarm pad. “Show me around. Every room.”
I set my purse on the marble table in the entryway and then lead him through the first floor. First stop is the living room—white carpet, white couches, and gold artwork on the wall. All picked out by my aunt Gail. Then the kitchen, which is state of the art, even though I rarely use it. My chef, Beverly, is here almost every day I’m home, which for the past few months since I was attacked has been every day.
“This is the other living room.” I push open the French door, but before I can walk in, he grabs my arm.
I look up at him, and he shakes his head. “Me first. Always.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious. We ever walk into a closed-off room or into any-damn-where, I’m first.”
His fingers tighten on me, and I nod. “Okay.”
He walks in before me and checks all the closets and windows. We continue until we get downstairs to the gym and theatre room. After he’s through down there, I take him up to the bedrooms, where he doesn’t even stop t
o glance at all the awards and framed photos of magazine covers on the wall.
I save my bedroom for last and hesitate before going into the bathroom. That’s where the man who held a knife to my throat got to me. Wesley gently touches my arm as he skirts past me and quickly takes me out of there. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Again, Quinn. This’ll go better if you’re honest with me.”
“I am. It just freaks me out sometimes when I walk in there. Like I’ll remember it… or him or whatever, and it gives me the creeps.”
He doesn’t reply, but the way he smiles tells me he understands. And I’m blown away by how much hotter he just got with the tilt of his lips. Then when he squeezes my hand, I almost forget to fall in step behind him as he heads back downstairs.
By the time I reach him in the kitchen, he’s already on his phone giving orders to someone. I grab a couple of water bottles from the fridge and hand him one. He lifts his chin at me as he takes it and walks around the house. I can hear him talking about how many windows there are, exits, and a bunch of other jargon I don’t understand.
“I’m sending a man to stay here with you tonight.” I jump when he speaks from behind me. I turn around, and he continues. “Then I’ll be back tomorrow for good. But I need to arrange some things, and now that I’ve been in the house, I have a better idea of the guard I need on the property.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Damien’ll be here in about a half an hour, so until then, I’m gonna do some perimeter checks, but I’ll let you know before I take off.”
I simply nod.
“If you listen to me and do everything I tell you, he won’t get to you again. I promise you that.”
“Okay,” I tell him even though I don’t really believe him.
“You can trust me on that, Quinn.”
His fiery eyes hold mine, and the promise in them changes my mind. This time when I tell him, “Okay,” I mean it.