Security Needs (His Curvy Craving Book 2)

by Alexa Blue

  I turn to Carter, and for the first time since I woke up, I smile. “You’re coming with me?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  We drive up to Innocence Girls Home, an orphanage that looks after abandoned teenage girls. These girls have lived such hard lives, and every time I hear one of their stories, I walk away feeling crushed that I can’t do more to help. But there is nothing more fulfilling than seeing their positive outlook on life, despite the shit they’ve been through.

  I don’t always have the time, but I try to stop by as much as possible. Even if it’s just to relax and have a quick chat with a few girls I've befriended.

  But today, I'm not here for the social experience. We have volunteered to give all the walls of the house a fresh coat of paint.

  I'm quite excited. Not only do I get to have a full view of Carter's hairy, muscular calves, it'll also be less embarrassing to admit to him that I know nothing about painting. Mrs. Gartner, the house mother, is a lovely lady, but she rules with an iron fist, and patience is a virtue she sorely lacks.

  I’m dressed in a baggy shirt and a pair of pants I use on the odd occasion when I'm in the mood for spring cleaning. Carter wears a Guess shirt and blue shorts that show off his legs. God, the man looks so fucking sexy in whatever he wears.

  I’m so grateful to have Carter around. At least he got me to go out today. If it weren’t for him, I’d probably be sitting at home with chips, chocolates, and pints of ice cream. But instead, I'm out, trying to do my bit where I can.

  The man has me hypnotized, and I’ve never met anyone that can make me feel so confident in myself. He makes me think I can take on the world and that he will be right by my side, supporting me through every moment of it.

  "Hey, watch out," Carter says, and I turn my head to face him. Droplets of pink paint land on my cheek. Some even splat on my worn-out shirt.

  He pauses, and slowly, his lips curl into a devious grin. I wipe the paint from my cheeks, probably making it worse, and my eyes narrow.

  "Oh, no, you didn’t!” I reach down and gather a few drops of paint on my brush before flicking it back at him. The man has lightning-fast reflexes because he manages to dodge me.

  “You missed,” he says with an extended tongue.

  “Everything okay in here?” Mrs. Gartner’s voice catches us both by surprise. She stands at the door of the room with her hands on her hips.

  “Never been better,” Carter says and sneaks me a playful wink.

  My eyebrows furrow, and I give him a look that says, You haven't seen the last of me.

  “We're good, Mrs. Gartner,” I say and offer her a warm smile, “just getting the hang of painting.”

  She breathes out a sigh. “Let’s treat this seriously, okay?”

  She stares at us for a few more moments before walking off.

  Once I get into the hang of things, I find that painting a wall isn’t nearly as daunting as I thought it would be. By the time we leave, two rooms have a fresh coat of baby pink paint, and I head out to chat with a few of my buddies before heading off.

  Carter was so moved by the experience he vowed to return at least once a month from now on. I wonder if it’s his newfound love for volunteer work, or if that’s just an excuse to see me. I’d like to think it’s a bit of both.

  “Stick with me.” I sneak him a wink, creep behind him and land a playful slap against his ass.

  Carter opens his mouth to object, but my buzzing iPhone cuts him off. I lift it from my pocket and discover my mom calling me.

  Mommy, if only you knew the thoughts your little girl has about the bodyguard you and Daddy organized.

  “I’ll call her back,” I say to Carter and slip my phone back into my pocket.

  Carter places his hand on my shoulder. I look up at him. His gaze is sharp and unmoving. “It’s your mom, cupcake, just answer it.”

  After a few moments of scanning his gray eyes, I give in to his request. “Fine.”

  “Hi, Mom,” I respond, trying to sound as delighted as possible. God, I hate that I always have to fake being happy when speaking to her.

  “Hello, my angel. How are you? Has Carter been taking care of you?”

  I pull the phone from my ear, gazing at it for a few moments. I'm used to her sounding frantic, like she's coming off an acid trip, but she seems normal for a change. "I'm good, Mom. Yeah, Carter… has been amazing.” I catch Carter grinning, pretending not to overhear my conversation.

  Mom lets out a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, and I know it’s coming. Who am I kidding, thinking we could just have a normal conversation?

  “I hate being the bearer of bad news,” she huffs, “but did you have a look at the newspaper today?”

  “I did, Mom. I’ve decided I’m not going to let it affect me either.” I shut my eyes tight. “To be honest, I really don’t want to talk about it either, please.”

  Her voice grows distant, probably pulling the phone away as she mumbles a bunch of words I can’t make out.

  Her voice is back. “Britney, I’m worried about you. The article was mean, but you know, they have a point. At some point, you will have to find a real job.”

  “Mom!” I grumble and take in a deep breath, reminding myself I’m with company. "I have a real job. Um… I have to go now," I tell her because I can feel myself losing control any second now. The last thing I need to ruin this perfect afternoon is an argument with Mother Dearest.

  “Anyway, how’s the dieting going, my angel? I was—”

  I snort as I pull the phone away from my ear. I can hear her still speaking, but this is about as long a conversation as I’m willing to have. I hang up the call and turn to Carter, smiling.

  A forced smile is planted on my face. I try looking brave, but it’s not long before my eyes well up.

  Fuck, Britney. Don’t cry. Do. Not. Cry.

  My mom has managed to find ways to make me feel small my entire life. I’m twenty-three, I live on my own, I don’t ask them for a cent, and yet she still manages to make me feel like I’ve accomplished nothing.

  Carter pulls me in to him and plants a kiss on my forehead. "Shhh,” he tells me as he rubs his palm against my back. “Everything will be okay.”

  I clear my throat, fighting back my sniffles. “Huh? Oh, yes. Of course.”

  “Let’s get you back home. I have just the thing that will make you feel better…”

  My face lights up. “Oh, my God. Ice cream? No, wait? A burger and fries?”

  “No. Better.” His lips curl into a devilish grin.

  Carter drives his Nissan into the parking lot of my apartment building. I reach for the door handle when he pulls on my shoulder. “Stop.”

  I turn my gaze and furrow my eyebrows. “What now?”

  “By now, you should know that it's my job to open the door for you.”

  He switches off the car, climbs out, and grins at me as he makes his way towards my side of the vehicle. Hell, the heat spreading through my cheeks is undeniable. I make a mental note to get a tan; perhaps then Carter won’t know just how much of an impact he has on me. I’ve never felt more like royalty in my life.

  He opens the door for me, and I step out of the vehicle. "Why, thank you, kind sir."

  He locks up the car, and I walk in front of him towards my apartment when I feel his hands all over my body.

  “Whaaaat are you doing?” I yelp. Carter lifts me in his arms, pulling my body tight against his muscled chest as he carries me back to my apartment. I’m not a small girl, but from the way Carter carries me, you would swear I weigh no more than a feather.

  He walks me through my front door, and this moment could not get any more romantic, until my feet thump against the door as we make our way in. “Ouch! Hey, I’m going to need those.”

  We both chuckle as he kicks the door closed behind him and lays me down on my sofa.

  “Okay, you’re right. That does make me feel a little better.”

  Hell, feeling hi
s rock-hard body pressing against mine makes me feel more than a little better.

  I lay back against the sofa when Carter presses his body against mine. “Nooo, cupcake. I haven’t even started.” He rubs his large hands down my arms, and it feels like my entire body is about to erupt with desire. Pressing his thumbs into my muscles, he rubs them in a circular motion that sends ripples of pleasure through my flesh.

  I catch my breath as Carter leans down on me. His body presses against my back, and he softly whispers into my ear, “I figured after the day you’ve had, you could do with a full body massage.”

  As Carter continues rubbing his hands across every inch of my body, I can’t shake the nasty thoughts out of my mind. I should be relaxed, but why is it that my body is so tense that I crave so much more than just his hands on me?

  My entire body is on fire, but the real fire is between my legs. Feeling his excitement pressing against my thighs is not helping either.

  A rush of heat swirls over me as he reaches up and massages my tensed-up shoulders.

  "Oh," I sigh as his pelvis gyrates, and his cock presses harder against my thigh, just inches away from the willing pussy.

  His heavy breathing meets mine as he runs his palms down my body. His firm hands cup under my breasts, and my eyes roll back. Fuck, I am seconds away from screaming out loud for my neighbors to hear the pleasure he’s filling me with.

  I’m done trying to convince myself that this is wrong, that I should not be feeling this way about a man whose only job is to protect me. But I’ve never experienced anything more erotic. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want Carter.

  His palms continue working down my body until he slides them between my thighs.

  “Oh…fuck,” I pant, and lift my arm to wipe the beads of sweat forming at my hairline.

  He has a grin on his face that suggests he knows he has me right where I want him most. He pulls down on my panties, revealing my soaking pussy.

  I welcome him with parted legs, craving more of his touch. The cool breeze against my wetness adds an extra sensation of bliss. His large hands, together with the thick finger slipping between my folds, is a recipe for one hell of an orgasm.

  Had I known my bodyguard would come with these benefits, I would have found Carter and dragged him over to my apartment ages ago.

  The coy smile on his face as he glances down at me tells me he’s pleased with what he sees. He longs for me every bit as much as I crave him.

  I would usually be searching for my clothes or a blanket, anything to cover up my body, but not with Carter. He makes me feel like a princess, one that is worthy of being touched by him. Nothing has ever felt quite as right at him now spreading my lips.

  “Sweet Jesus!” I squirm, running my fingers through my hair as he slips a finger inside me. He has large, thick fingers that spread me open like never before, but I’ve seen what he’s packing. His fingers are nothing compared to what he has between his legs.

  “Is this tight little pussy for me?” Carter breathes over me, sighing with approval.

  “Ah ha,” is all I can manage. I'm so intoxicated by his touch and that masculine whiff of his cologne that I'm utterly helpless under his touch.

  An involuntary moan escapes me as he slips a second finger inside me and works his way deeper. Carter rubs against my sensitive flesh, making my entire body shudder with arousal. I haven't been touched in ages, and now it feels like I'm moments from crashing. I huff and puff when Carter gives me the release I so desperately ache for.

  “Yeah, that’s a good girl. Let go, cupcake.”

  He pulls his fingers out of me and rubs my clit as his tongue finds my entrance. The man has quite an appetite, because he devours my willing pussy, eating me out like he’s never tasted anything better in his life.

  He presses his thumb on my clit and works circles around my sensitive nub when I start to come undone. My legs kick out violently, and my muscles stiffen as I reach my peak.

  I’m so fucking hot, and my spasms grip around his tongue as I find my release.

  “Yes…yes…YES!”

  When my orgasm finally subsides, Carter lifts his hand to his nose and takes in a deep whiff. He flicks his shirt over his head and crawls up beside me.

  Placing his arm under my head, he pulls me in to him and kisses me on the back of my head.

  I turn and look up at him, barely able to make eye contact, but his deep grays bore into my soul. It’s a look I’ve never seen before from him.

  My cheeks are blazing hot, and I use some of my hair to cover my face. “Whaaat?” I say. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Carter brushes the hair over my ears and gives me a warm smile. “God, you’re so beautiful. I could just stare at you all day.” His grip around me tightens. He plants a kiss on my forehead and softly whispers, “Nothing better than a nap after a massage. Good night, cupcake.”

  With that, I close my eyes, a huge grin spreading across my face.

  And now I know what heaven feels like.

  Chapter Six

  Carter

  I shift my head and face the direction of the sound from inside the apartment.

  “What the fuck?”

  At 5:30, with Britney fast asleep, there shouldn’t be any fucking sounds coming from inside this apartment other than us. It’s definitely not from inside the bedroom. Three days back I told Britney I think it would be best if I slept in her room—for her safety, of course. The best way I can ensure she’s safe is if she’s wrapped up in my arms.

  I creep out of bed and sneak out of the room. Moving forward with silent footsteps, I stop when a whooshing sound has the hairs on the back of my neck lifting. I dart over towards the front door of Britney’s apartment and catch sight of a small piece of paper being slipped under the door.

  My fists clench up, and my temples throb at the thought that someone is still trying to hurt my girl.

  I’m in my briefs, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck. Without giving it a second thought, I dash out the front door and chase after whoever the fuck slipped that note. Since the note was just slipped under the door, he must be close. I stand outside the door, looking left and right. A man leans his head at the end of the passage to see if I’m still around. He disappears as quickly as I spotted him. The soles of his boots slapping against the concrete echo down the passage as he turns back and heads for the building entrance.

  Why the fuck are the security guards letting random people into the building?

  My feet amplify the echo further as they slap against the tiles. I will be damned if I let him get away from me. Once I’m through with him, he will know not ever to fuck with Britney again.

  To an outsider, I probably look like a mental patient that just managed to escape the psychiatric hospital as I run down the corridors dressed in nothing except my underwear at this hour.

  I almost run into the wall as I turn the corner. The glass swinging doors still spin from his escape into the parking lot. He scrambles through his pocket, scanning behind his shoulders, trying to pull out a set of keys, but he’s not fast enough. I catch up to him moments before he’s about to open the door to his car.

  I grab hold of his T-shirt, bunch up the fabric in my fist, and bash him against the side of his Toyota Corolla.

  “Errrr ma gaaaawd!” An unexpected, high pitched shrill throws me off. His breathing is sharp and heavy from his early morning cardio, and he looks as though he’s about to have a nervous breakdown. Definitely not what I expected.

  Despite his young, innocent look throwing me off a little, I am stern with him. “Tell me who the fuck you are and who sent you?” A menacing growl howls out of me as I lift the bunched-up fabric and hold him up in the air. His feet dangle, and his eyes look as though they're about to pop right out of his head.

  “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Please let me go. I’m just doing what I was told.”

  I let his feet dangle for a few moments longer before lowering him back down to the gr
ound, sure that he won't get away from me. His gaze drops, and his eyes fix on my underwear. I flick my fingers under his chin to lift his head. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” I say.

  He stares at me but doesn't say a word. It's like he's frozen in place, unable to move. I don't care how afraid he's looking. The fact that he's out to harm my girl has the barbaric side coming out of me.

  “Fucking speak! You have five seconds to tell me who you are and who sent you before I bash your head against this fucking car,” I growl.

  "Okay, okay," he breathes. "I'm a nobody."

  “Three seconds!”

  “I’m Ryan. I was sent by Chaleur Models, but I swear I don’t know anything else. They paid me a one-time fee to drive down to Eastwood to slip that note under the door of this apartment.” Ryan hands me a piece of paper with Britney’s address scribbled on it. “I swear I don’t know anything else. The best people to speak to would be Chaleur themselves. I swear on my mother’s life that I don’t know anything else.”

  I glare at him for a few moments before grabbing hold of his car keys and pushing him aside. I yank the car door open and reach into his car for his wallet. Ryan's entire body shakes when I pull out his I.D. card and study it curiously.

  Ryan Butler. Born on the 3rd of November 1990 and lives in New York, Brooklyn. I make a mental note of his details and hand his wallet back to him. He can thank his lucky stars he did not lie about his name.

  “It’s now your job to make sure nothing happens to Britney. If you know what’s good for you, then you will go back and tell Chaleur to back off. One more threat from them, and I will personally find you. I cannot promise I will be as forgiving next time. Do we have an understanding?”

  “Ye—yes, sir. I will give them the message.”