by Amy Brent
I didn’t know what the hell this young woman had gotten herself into, but sometimes, her nerves would get the best of her, and it would make me nervous by proxy.
I slowly crept toward her bedroom door with my gun trained in front of me. I paused to see if I could hear more sounds coming from the room before I reached out for the doorknob. I twisted it and threw the door open, scanning the room for the intruder or the broken glass from her window, but all I found was Bridget, slowly pulling herself from the floor.
“Good god, do you knock?” she asked.
“Bridget.” I rushed to her side and helped her to her feet, and then I had to help her untangle herself from her comforter.
“Rough night?” I asked.
“Bad dreams. The hell you doing, barging into my room like that?”
She was fully uncensored, and I heard a bit of an accent charge through. It was amusing how unfiltered she was right now, but I was also relieved that she was all right.
“I heard you hit the floor, and I came running,” I said. “Wasn’t sure what was going on.”
“Well, lucky me for my knight in shining armor.”
“Not the happiest without coffee, I see.”
“I can smell it,” she said. “Did you make some? Can I have some?”
“Of course, it’s your house,” I said with a grin. “Come on. Let’s get you downstairs, and I’ll make you a cup.”
The two of us made our way down the hallway and to the stairs, and it gave me a chance to study her. She had on no makeup, no airbrushing techniques, and no fancy clothes. Her pajamas were merely baggy plaid pants and a large shirt, and somehow, she still seemed sexy as hell. Her hair was mussed and tangled, and her face had a red tint of frustration to it, and as I helped her down the stairs, I could feel the exhaustion still aching in her bones.
“Really rough night?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said.
I knew there was something she was holding back. Between her nervous ticks that set my nerves aflame and this nightmare that seemed to rob her of her sleep, something was haunting her memories, and she was obviously scared. As she slowly began to wake up, I watched her eyes dart around the room a bit more, and I mindlessly slipped my arm around her waist to help her into the kitchen.
“Whatever’s going on, don’t be so scared,” I said. “I’m here, and you’re fine.”
She flopped down into the kitchen chair, and I started making her a cup of coffee. I looked over at her every now and again, and she’d put her head in her hands. A few times, her head jerked, like she had fallen asleep at the table. Whatever she was hiding, I was going to figure it out. It was obviously plaguing her to a point where she felt she needed me, and if I could do my job and rid her of the anxiety, she could go back to living her life free of the fear she was experiencing.
There was something inside of me that desperately wanted to give that to her.
I topped off my mug of coffee before I brought the two mugs over to the table. I set one down underneath her nose, and she jerked up again, her eyes red with sleeplessness and her nose puffy with agitation.
“You know, you’re probably one of the only women in Hollywood who doesn’t need all those makeup techniques,” I said. It simply slipped out, like a passing comment in a conversation you’d have with an old friend, and a part of me locked up and was waiting for her to fire me on the spot.
But instead, all she did was grab ahold of her mug and lift her gaze to meet mine.
“You’re an idiot,” she said. “I look like hell.”
“Hardly. You look like you had a rough night, but that doesn’t mean you don’t look good.”
“Well, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.”
I could tell she didn’t believe me, but that wasn’t the point. The point was how easy it was to tell her something like that when I was technically under her employment. I knew I was toeing a very serious line between a business relationship and a harassing one, so I clamped my mouth shut and just drank my coffee alongside her at the table.
“You’re not too bad looking yourself,” she said.
“So bald is your type? I mean, considering that I got a haircut recently.” I asked.
“My type is the kind that—”
She halted her phrase just before she shot me a cheeky look, and every single part of me tingled with anticipation. I knew I wanted her to finish that sentence, to know what kind of type she actually had in men. I bet it had nothing to do with looks for her. I bet it had everything to do with how they could wield her body in bed. How many orgasms they could crash over her body before she locked up and passed out.
I wondered if any man had made her orgasm so hard and so much that she did pass out.
“Anyway,” she said. “I’ve got some errands to run today, so it won’t be a nice day at the house.”
“Not a problem, where are we headed?” I asked.
“I need groceries, then I need to pick up an extra tip for my driver to give to him. I ran out of checks, so I’m giving him cash until I can get some more in the mail. Then, I have a friend of mine who’s opening her first independent store, showcasing her own fashion designs, and I want to stop by and show my support.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “When do you want to head out?”
“Whenever I can down enough coffee to raise this fog from my mind.”
We sat there and drained the entire pot of coffee before her accent slowly faded, and she slipped into the Bridget Meyers everyone knew and loved. I was a bit disappointed to lose the unfiltered woman I’d helped off the floor this morning, but I understood why she did what she did. Show business was two parts acting and one part hiding, but I got the strange feeling that ratio was flipped for Bridget.
I got the feeling she did more hiding than she did acting.
“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed,” she said with a sigh. “If I’m not done in an hour, come bang down my door.”
“Got it.”
I watched her walk away and couldn’t help but try to get a glimpse of those luscious curves underneath all those clothes. Her pajamas were a stark contrast from the booty shorts and tank top I’d met her in, but she seemed just as comfortable and beautiful as the day I’d first walked into her home. She rounded the staircase and started up the stairs, so I decided to put the mugs in the sink and take up residence at her front door.
There was nothing quite as intimidating as a man of my size standing on a stoop with a shining gun reflecting the sun in someone’s eyes.
I stood there for about forty-five minutes when she finally emerged. She was in this beautiful yellow and blue dress, with matching heels and a brimmed hat, and I couldn’t take my eyes off those legs. Her heels flexed her calves perfectly, and all I could think about was commanding her to keep them on while she dug those heels into my back. Her dress was one of those dresses you didn’t even wait to take off. You just shoved it up and moved the panties to the side before you thrusted deep into the warmth of the woman in your arms.
“You coming?” she asked.
I took a deep breath, started for the car, and slid in right after her. We ran the errands just like she wanted, except there was always a catch to each of them. We didn’t actually go grocery shopping. All we did was sit in the car while she ordered the groceries online. I didn’t even think you could do something like that, but when the grocery store baggers came out with carts of food and started placing them in the trunk of the car, all I could do was laugh.
“The perks of being beautiful and famous,” she said with a wink.
“This shouldn’t be a perk for just you guys. You know how many times I’ve dragged Lacey kicking and screaming through a store? I’ve had moments where I would’ve tipped someone 400 bucks just to do the damn job for me.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you,” she said.
After that, we headed to the bank where her driver pulled her up to the ATM machine. She leaned over my b
ody to do everything, and it took all the restraint I had not to touch her. Her tits were pressed against my chest and her knee was sitting in between my legs, and I had to physically sit on my hands to keep from running them up and down that smooth rounded ass of hers. Her legs were glowing in the sunlight that streamed through the open window while she snagged the money for her driver, and I could’ve sworn he gave me a look in the rearview mirror just before Bridget sat back down.
“Here, Bernie,” she said. “For the paparazzi evasion earlier.”
“You don’t have to do that, Bridge,” she said.
“Bridge?” I asked.
“No one calls me that but him,” she said with a frown.
“Take it, Bernie. I’m serious. Thank you for that beautiful work a few days ago.”
“That’s very kind of you,” he said.
“Cut the crap and thank me, Bernie,” she said.
“Thank you, Bridge,” he said with a smile.
“All right, now it’s just the stop at my friend’s new place and then you’ll be good to go home if you’d like,” she said. I had to pull my suit coat out from underneath my ass and tuck it around my waist. My cock was shamefully straining against my pants because of that tight little body she’d just pressed against me, and I knew I was already treading a thin line with keeping my job and her falsely calling sexual assault.
And trust me, it happened more often than any of us like to admit.
We ran by her friend’s store, and it was actually kind of nice. It was very small, which was probably normal for someone just starting out, but the way Bridget ran to her and hugged her tight told me they were close friends. I stood at the back of the store so I could survey the entire area, and I watched them talk and catch up. Sparkling designs and pants with missing chunks of fabric were hanging from the walls, and everyone who came into the store always seemed to leave with something.
I guessed that was a good sign for a store that had just opened.
Bridget kissed her friend on the cheek and then waved me over. She was ready to go because people in the store were starting to take pictures, so I escorted her to the car, and we headed on home. I helped her bring in the groceries and was stunned when she walked in those high heels while putting things away, and I realized she had a grace about her with everything she did. No woman on this planet could make putting away groceries as sexy as she was, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I sat the last of the bags down onto the counter.
“Thanks for your help today,” she said. “If you wanna take off, that’s fine. I’ve got it from here.”
“You sure?” I asked.
“Always,” she said with a grin.
I couldn’t get to my car quickly enough. I slammed the door and barreled down her driveway. When I got to the bottom, I undid my belt and rearranged my throbbing cock. That woman was easily the hottest thing I’d been around in my entire life, and my body was letting me know it every second I spent with her. I could feel myself leaking into my boxers and cursed the fact that I didn’t have another pair of pants because I had to go straight from here to picking up my daughter.
I shuffled around in the glove compartment for some tissues and cleaned myself up really quickly before I tucked myself back in and made myself look presentable.
Lacey ran into my arms after school, and I was so glad to see her. We got home, and I cooked her dinner, and she rattled off everything about her school day.
“And we colored and played outside, and Leo and Tracy slept beside me during naptime, and we kept giggling and making jokes.”
“So, you had a good day then?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Could Leo and Tracy come over sometime and play?”
“Of course. I’ll talk with their parents, and we can see what we can do.”
“Yay! Maybe we could have a sleepover!”
“Well, boys aren’t allowed to sleep over at girls’ houses, but Tracy is more than welcome to stay if she’d like.”
“Why not, Daddy? Leo’s my friend. I don’t want him to feel left out.”
My heart leapt with her innocence, and I wanted her to stay like that forever. I wanted her idea of sleepovers to always be friend-based. I wanted her outlook on boys to be as innocent and fair as it was right now.
My phone ringing ripped me from my trance. I picked it up and saw who was calling and immediately felt the hairs on my neck stand on end.
“Bridget, are you all right?” I asked.
“Yes, dummy. I was calling to ask you something.”
“So, you’re fine?” I asked.
“Yes. Lighten up a bit, would you? Listen, I was wanting to go out for a bit tonight, but I didn’t know if you had a babysitter for Lacey. If you don’t, I won’t go out. But, if you do, I was wondering if you could come back over tonight?”
“Yeah, I can call my parents,” I said. “Where are we headed?”
“Nannie and papa!” Lacey exclaimed.
“Oh my gosh, is that her? She sounds adorable.”
“That’s her, and you just made her night,” I said with a smile. “She’s all about her grandparents.”
“They let me have suckers,” Lacey said.
“Did she say something about suckers?” Bridget asked.
“They’re her kryptonite,” I said.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Could you be here around nine?”
“Yep. I’ll be there.”
I got Lacey ready for bed just as my parents were walking through the door. I kissed them on the cheek and told them I’d be back before Lacey went to school in the morning, and then I headed for my car. I’m sure Bridget was just wanting to go out for a night on the town, especially since she’d cooped herself up in her house ever since I’d been around. I pulled up to her home and got out of my car. Bernie was already waiting for us with the car when Bridget appeared on the porch.
I got out of my car and panned my gaze over toward her, and I couldn’t believe how sexy she looked. I didn’t think this woman could get any more gorgeous, but she had on this tight red strapless dress and heels that would kill any other woman’s ankles. Her skin was shining with whatever she’d rubbed onto it, and her eyes were made up in this smoky look. She walked toward me with her hips sashaying, more than I’d ever seen them swish before, and her hair was bouncing around her shoulders while her jewelry sparkled in the moonlight.
“Hey there,” she said with a smile.
All I could do was stare.
Chapter 7
Bridget
Why the hell was he looking at me like that? He looked like a deer in headlights I was about to smash with my car. His eyes were hooked onto my dress before he ripped them up to my eyes, and it was like he’d swallowed his own tongue and couldn’t breathe.
“So?” I asked. “What do you think?”
I held my arms out and gave him a little twirl, hoping the big bad bodyguard would like what I had to put on. The rule of the game was if the bouncer liked it, every other man would, too. So, if Thomas liked it, that was the closest thing I had to a bouncer, so other men would like it as well.
“Honestly?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said.
“Without running the risk of you firing me?” he asked.
“Yes, Thomas. Shit. How do I look?”
“Hotter with that filthy mouth,” he said with a smirk. “But really, you look sexy as hell. If I wasn’t under your employ and you walked into a place I was in, you’d no longer be single for the night.”
“That’s a hell of a compliment there, Mr. Jeffries,” I said.
“Only the best compliments for the most beautiful women, Miss Meyers.”
We got into the car, and Bernie knew exactly where to take us. It was a spot my best friend Rachel and I frequented often. We visited her sister’s shop earlier today, and her sister was telling me how Rachel’s career was experiencing another low. Her sister had an amazing eye for fashion, and I was all about supporting her. I went th
ere this afternoon with the sole intent of paying for a few items I could wear, and she told me she had a few unique pieces coming out in a couple of weeks that she wanted to give me for free just to walk around in and advertise.
I told her I would do anything I could to help, and she seemed all the more thankful for it. But, when we started in on the conversation about Rachel, people began to flood into her store just to take pictures of me. So, I hugged her goodbye and got out of there before my presence completely ruined her opening, and I called Rachel after Thomas had left.
She didn’t seem too concerned about the low she was experiencing because the last high had replenished her savings account. I told her to talk me through her finances, just to make sure she had enough to work from, and I kept trying to get her to take money from me so I knew she’d be all right. She kept putting me off, telling me it was good because she could focus more on her painting now and getting some stuff sold, so I convinced her to come out with me tonight.
She tried wiggling her way out of it, telling me she had to paint, and I told her we could celebrate her sister’s success.
When we pulled up to the club, I saw Rachel standing out there waiting for me, and I scrambled to get to her. I threw the door open and didn’t even wait for Thomas to get out first. My feet hit the concrete, and I had her in my arms. I loved going out with my best friend because she always knew how to throw down. Drinks would be pouring tonight, and we’d have some of the best ones in one of the most exclusive clubs in LA, and I’d get her mind off all her career worries.