by Alexa Riley
I’m not shocked she has stalkers. When her picture hit my desk, I myself started stalking. At least I could say mine was work. I would never want to harm her. Whoever this is is angry. From the messages they’ve sent and the things they’ve done to her home in Beverly Hills, it’s clear this fucker is a psycho. From what I gather he won't stop until he gets what he wants, or we catch him. I have hopes of getting my hands on him first.
I let myself slide back into bodyguard mode as we pull up to the hotel. “Get the door,” I tell Rye, who nods, gets out of the car and opens my door. Slowly I turn Mila, putting her into my arms as I step out of the car. Taking a look around, I enter the hotel and go straight for the elevator.
Rye hits the button and the door opens instantly and we step on. When we hit our floor, I don’t take her to her room. Instead I take her to my suite. Rye opens the door for me and I place her down on the bed, then do a sweep of the suite before we both exit.
“Watch the door. I’ll be back in five,” I tell him then head for her room to collect her things. When I step inside I do another sweep but find nothing. I locate one open suitcase next to the bed. I toss everything I find around the room inside before heading into the bathroom and grabbing her other stuff.
I make a quick call to room service to get her something to eat and then heading back to her room. Rye doesn't say anything but raises his eyebrows at me with a smirk.
“Keep your eyes off her.”
“Kinda my job,” he says in that southern drawl that I’m sure works to keep his bed full every night.
“You know what I fucking mean,” I snarl, taking a step into his personal space. I know he must be on the up and up if he works for Sam, but I’m on edge about her. Jealousy and possessiveness are riding me hard and make me want to mark my territory. I need to let him and everyone else know she’s mine now. Maybe not in every way, but right now she’s under my protection and that makes her mine.
“Not even my type.” He once again puts his hands up. I know she’s not his type, but still a girl like that is everyone’s type, I don’t care what team you play for. Or maybe once again it’s that possessiveness I’m feeling and I’m unable to see how anyone could not find her irresistible.
“Watch it and we’ll be all good,” I tell him before I flash my key card and enter the suite to check on her.
“Be careful, man,” I hear him say as the door closes. I run my hand over my face, wondering if maybe I should call in another man for this job. Sam called me in was because he was worried and couldn't oversee the case himself, and he wanted the best on the job. He was also a little worried his men wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the job at hand when faced with her beauty. He thought Rye and I were the best bet. Fuck if that was wrong.
I go into the bedroom to check on her again. Light from the bathroom creeps into the room. I stand over the bed and look down at her. In her sleep she looks even younger than her twenty years. I should be ashamed. I’m almost twelve years older than her. I reason with myself that she needs someone like me in her life to watch over her and to keep her safe and make sure she is taken care of, because I don’t think she has that right now.
I shake my head. I need to stop these thoughts. Why would the most beautiful girl in the world choose to be with me? I’ve seen the men she’s gone on dates with. Hollywood heartthrobs, I think they called them. All I saw were boys who didn't know how to take care of someone like Mila. She needs a man. A protector.
Taking one last look at her, I stride back to the sitting area and pull out my phone to call Sam. It only rings once before he’s picking up the phone.
“Knox.”
“Anything new?” I ask, noting that if there was he would have sent it over already.
“No, but we are still processing the scene,” he tells me. My gut clenches. I saw the pictures of what the perp did to her place. She doesn't even know about it. That’s yet another thing that isn't settling well with me. I don't understand why her agent hasn’t told her what happened yet. They said they didn't want to upset her, but I think it has more to do with them not wanting her to cancel her shoot today. They still don’t want me to tell her.
“I won’t lie to her,” I throw out.
“You do what you think needs to be done. I trust your judgment.” I’m not so sure if I agree. With anyone else I wouldn't care if I was asked to lie to them. I do what needs to be done, but with her I don't want to give her a reason to hate me, something to use against me. It’s a reason why I can't have her.
“I want her,” I admit. I feel a little better getting that off my chest. I hear Sam suck in a deep breath. He asked me to take this job because he thought I wouldn’t chase her around like a puppy. He was wrong on some level. I sure as fuck am no puppy. Especially when it comes to her. I’m in full beast mode when it comes to the idea of someone else trying to get close to her.
“Maybe I should send someone else out,” he finally says after a moment.
“I’m not leaving her,” I warn.
“Fucking hell. I didn't say that.” I can almost hear a laugh in his voice, and I’m not sure what the fuck is so goddamn funny. “Just an extra set of eyes.”
I don't like the sound of that either until he tells me who he’s sending. “I’ll send Cara out. She’ll be there in the morning.”
A small amount of tension leaves my body. Cara is good and I won't have to worry about her wanting my girl. My girl. Jesus, I’m in deep.
“You really like her?”
“This isn't high school, Sam.” I shake my head. I’m too old for crushes. This is something very different.
“Whoever this guy is, he wants her.” I clench the phone hard. I know this already. I don’t need the reminder. The guy ripped her place apart, but not before stealing her underwear and cumming all over her bed. I’m going to have the thing burned. In fact, I never want her back in that apartment again. I’m not sure how I’m going to swing that one, but I’m a man who always gets what he wants, and I will make sure that stays true when it comes to her.
“He can’t have her,” I rumble. I knowing Sam just got what he wanted. He wanted to see how much I wanted her. It didn't matter, I couldn't hide it from Sam anyways. He’s good at reading people. He doesn't even have to be in front of them to do it.
“Never thought I’d see the day.” I know he has a smirk on his face. Sam was always the less serious of the two of us. He was always the good cop and I was the bad cop. We worked well together. We made a good team when we were in the FBI.
I sit down on the sofa. “Me either,” I admit. I was always more a workaholic. Obsessive, they called it. When I zero in on something, I can't stop until I find what I’m looking for or get what I want. It’s why the FBI still contacts me to look at cases. I’ve been this way my whole life. It’s helped me excel. Though my obsessive tendencies have never been concentrated on a woman before. I’m not sure how to handle it. It’s a new feeling for me.
Chapter Three
Mila
My eyes flutter open as I feel a warm cloth run down my cheek. I roll to my side, my vision adjusting to the dimly lit room to see Jax standing over me as he wipes my face. I lie there studying his unreadable face, shadows playing across it. I think I might be dreaming, so I reach up to touch his cheek and run my finger along his scar.
He stops stroking the cloth down my cheek and I realize I’m not dreaming at all. I go to pull my hand back, but he leans into my touch. I continue caressing his scar, awed by contrast of smooth skin and bristly stubble.
“What are you doing?” I finally ask. He’s in my room. I don’t remember much beyond laying my head on his shoulder and sleep taking me. It’s a terrible habit of mine. I work until exhaustion takes me and then I’m dead to the world. I could crash for a whole twenty-four hours at times, waking for nothing.
“Taking care of you,” he says simply, as if what he’s doing is normal. I drop my hand away from his face, missing the contact instantly. What is it about th
is man that is calling to me and making me feel at ease and safe?
“Did I fall asleep with my makeup on?” I ask, already knowing the answer. My pillow is probably covered in it. They put a lot on for the shoots. He nods. “Don’t tell my agent.” I yawn and turn my face a little for him to keep going. I should take the cloth from him and do it myself, but I’m enjoying being taken care of for a little while.
I swear I hear him say something like, “fuck your agent,” but I let my eyes fall closed. “Pretty girl, I want you to wake up and eat before you go back to sleep.” My eyes flutter open once again, and I smell food. It makes my stomach growl loudly.
That gets me a chuckle, and the low sound of his deep laugh raises goosebumps on my arms. He tosses the towel on the bedside table and pulls me up to a sitting position. “Thank you,” I tell him, feeling a little shy now.
“Come.” He grabs my hand and leads me into the sitting area of the hotel suite. My agent’s words about never eating before you sleep roll through my mind.
“This isn't my room,” I say, glancing all around and spotting my bag over by the door. Jax drops my hand and lifts lids off the dishes on the dining table. I see more food than I could ever eat.
“I can’t eat this,” I tell him, even as my fingers itch to grab a French fry.
“Of course, you can.” He must see me eying the fries, because he picks one up and brings it to my mouth. I part my lips and take a bite, moaning at the salty goodness. I close my eyes. I can't remember the last time I ate a French fry. My eyes fly open when I hear Jax suck in a deep breath. My cheeks heat once again when I play back in my mind the sound I made. I might be a virgin, but I know that moan sounded like a sex moan.
“Sit,” he tells me, pulling out a chair.
I drop into it. “I really shouldn't,” I tell him, wanting the cheeseburger but knowing I have a shoot tomorrow.
“You can do anything you want, pretty girl.” The way “pretty girl” rolls off his tongue makes butterflies come to life in my stomach. I don’t know why I care so much that he thinks I’m attractive, but I do.
I pick up the cheeseburger, smiling at him before I take a giant bite. The taste fills my mouth and I once again can’t fight the moan. I don’t care, though. I keep eating.
He touches my arm. “Not too fast. Don’t make yourself sick,” he says with another one of those deep chuckles. I put the cheeseburger down and reach for some more fries. What’s done is done. They will have to just deal with it tomorrow. For some reason, for the first time I find I don’t care. All my focus is on the mysterious attractive man in my hotel room. No, not my hotel room.
“What happened to my room?” I ask, popping another fry into my mouth.
“I wanted you close to me.” My eyebrows draw up at that. I study his face. “To keep you safe,” he adds, pulling my foot into his lap. I stare at him, shocked by the action, but he starts to rub it nonchalantly.
“Oh god,” I sigh. His big hands work the aching muscles in my feet. “How did you know?” I drop my head back. Being on my feet all day in different heels wreaks havoc on my feet.
“If you stop eating, I stop rubbing.”
I lift my head and smile. “Not sure that’s a threat.” I reach for a piece of chocolate cake and a fork. I’ve already come this far, what’s a little more.
“You kept rubbing them together.” He gives me feet a squeeze and then continues to rub them. “So, I knew they must be aching.”
“Thank you. I know it’s not your job.”
“Told you. Here to take care of you. Keep you safe.”
I lick my lips, getting the frosting off them, before taking another bite. I feel shy all over again. He keeps talking about taking care of me. No bodyguard I’ve had before has said or done these things. Not even Ben.
I try to remind myself he’s paid to do this. He is just being extra nice. Though he doesn't look like someone who goes out of his way to be extra nice. He looks more like does whatever he wants. “There’s only one bed,” I blurt out. Holy crap, I can’t believe I said that. I look down at my cake, trying to fight the blush I know is making a return.
“I noticed,” is all he says in response and keeps rubbing my feet. I go back to eating my cake.
“Did something happen?” I ask when I realize he never told me why Ben was gone and I now have two guards instead of one like normal.
“You got a stalker.”
I look at him and shrug. “And?”
Jax’s face hardens and his grip on my foot tightens. I know I’ve said the wrong thing.
Chapter Four
Jax
My body tenses at her lack of reaction to having a stalker. It reminds me once again of not only her innocence but how she doesn't pay enough attention to what is happening around her, like me being her dressing room. It only solidifies in my mind that she needs someone like me in her life.
I take a calming breath. Maybe those things aren't so bad for her to have if I’m around to protect her. I like the idea of her not knowing how dark the world can really be. I want to keep her innocence intact, as it should be. It’s refreshing.
I place her foot on the floor. I don’t know what came over me to have grabbed it to begin with, but when I saw her rubbing her feet together, I knew they hurt and I had to make her feel better. The need to do so was uncontrollable. Before I knew what I was doing I had her delicate feet in my lap and was rubbing them carefully.
I’ve never paid attention to a woman’s feet before, but hers are perfect. Small and delicate. Soft all over. Her toenails are painted a petal pink. Petal pink? I can’t believe I even thought that but I do. It’s her. She’s shifting something inside of me.
I pull my chair close to her, spreading my thighs so that she is between then. I lean into her, lifting my hand to swipe the small piece of chocolate cake from the corner of her mouth. I bring my thumb to my mouth and taste the chocolate, wishing I could taste it on her. Her tongue sneaks out over the spot I’d just touched, making me wonder if she’s thinking the same thing.
“You’re used to stalkers?” I ask. She doesn't seem scared by the idea of one. She gives another one of those small shrugs.
“They come with the territory.” I don't like her response because she’s my territory now and only mine.
“This one is a little more intense,” I inform her. “I’d rather not go into all the gritty details. Just trust I’ll keep you safe.”
“Okay.” She smiles at me. Could it really be that easy? “I trust you.” I stop myself from growling. That trust of hers is too easily given. It’s a wonder no one has taken her for themselves already.
“You shouldn't give out your trust so easy, pretty girl.” I place my hand on the inside of her thigh, stroking her softness.
“I don’t know what it is about you, but it’s just you I trust,” she whispers shyly. Her words go straight to my dick, which is still hard and in pain.
“You shouldn’t say things like that to a man.” She peeks up at me through her eyelashes, the sweet shyness of her hitting me right in the gut.
“Why?” She shifts a little, pushing herself towards the end of the chair. It causes my hand to drift farther up her soft, milky thigh. My fingers play with the end of her very short shorts, so short the pockets actually hang out the bottom of them. I fucking love and hate them.
“It makes it seem like I can get you to do whatever I want.” I use my other hand to raise her chin. I want her to look me right in the eyes to get what I’m saying. My fingers dip under her shorts to trace the edge of her panties.
I watch her breathing pick up as I slide my finger under her panties and trace the lips of her sex. I hiss when I feel how wet she is. Her legs spread even wider in silent invitation, one that I greedily accept.
“Does your pussy taste as sweet as you?” I ask her. Her lips part, but I don’t wait for an answer. I need to taste her. My mouth falls onto hers. I stroke my tongue along her lips, coaxing her to part them more for me. She does
with a small sigh. I slip my tongue into her mouth, tasting chocolate cake and her. I grunt. I knew she was going to taste this good, but fuck this is more than I could have imagined.
She pushes herself into my hand, wanting more, and I give it to her, parting her pussy lips so I can stroke her hard, little clit. She moans into my mouth. I can’t stop myself from pulling her into my lap. She straddles me, wrapping her hands around my neck and kissing me back, just as deeply and hungrily as I’m kissing her.
“Take what you want,” I rasp against her mouth. As her hips move, I push one finger into her. I groan at how fucking tight she is. If she wasn’t so wet I don’t think I could have even gotten one finger into her.
“What I want?” she breathes, before she drops her mouth back down onto mine. Her hair rains down all around us. I grip her thick hair, keeping her close as my finger works in and out of her, my thumb stroking her clit.
Her pussy locks down on my finger as she cums. I let her hair, and she throws her head back crying out my name. I grip her hips, dragging her across my cock. It only takes a few jerks and I’m cumming all over myself.
She drops her head down onto my shoulder wrapping herself around me. I have no idea how long we sit there. Then I stand, taking her towards the bedroom. Her even breathing never changes, and when I lay her down on the bed I can tell she is sleeping again.
I pull her shorts from her legs, tossing them to the ground. My fingers trace the wet spot on her panties before I bury my nose there and lick my fingers clean. My cock comes fully back to life, begging me to push her panties aside and slide right into her tightness.
As if our bodies are in tune, she spreads her legs in her sleep. I growl and pull myself away from her, going into the bathroom and cleaning myself off. I stare at myself in the mirror, at the jagged scar across my face. I wonder what she thinks when she looks at it.
