Corps Security in Hope Town: Fighting for Honor (Kindle Worlds)

by J. B. Salsbury

  “I’m here.” I rock into her again. “Right here with you.”

  “Don’t stop.”

  “Never.”

  I tilt my hips, and she cries out my name, her fingers ripping into my hair, making my scalp sting and pushing me right over the edge behind her.

  I groan into her throat and lick at the light sheen of sweat, absorbing the saltiness while drowning in the erotic fragrance of our bodies mixed.

  “You’re so fucking hot, Honor.”

  She laughs softly. “You’re so fucking hot too, Caleb.”

  “Shower with me.” I pull back to look into her eyes, not at all excited about losing our connection and hoping she’ll agree so I can be close to her for a little longer before I resign myself to training all day without her.

  Her kiss-swollen lips tilt up at the ends. “Is that a request or a demand?”

  I pop a quick kiss to the tip of her nose and carefully pull free from her body. We gasp in unison at the sensation, and I scoop her from the bed and carry her to the bathroom.

  “Guess that answers my question,” she says through a fit of giggles.

  I set her down on the countertop then get rid of the condom. I hit the water on in the shower, and when I turn back, her gaze is eating me alive from head to foot and lingering everywhere in the middle.

  “I like the way you look at me.” I slip my hands under her T-shirt and pull it off over her head, then take my time devouring her with my gaze right back. Her long hair falls over round breasts that are covered in red splotches, and I love the way it looks, knowing my teeth put them there.

  What is wrong with me? Why do I like this so much?

  I lean in and softly kiss every mark. “Do they hurt?”

  “No. They feel good.”

  My eyes roll back at the sultry sound of her voice at my ear.

  “Ya know . . .” She runs her hands softly through my hair, seeming to soothe the ache she left on my scalp the way I’m doing to her chest. “I think we should wake up like this every day.” She says it so casually, almost absently.

  My lips freeze against the swell of her breast. Is she saying . . .?

  Her spine stiffens as if she just heard herself. “I mean, you know, while we’re together.”

  Now my spine stiffens. I pull back to meet her eyes. “While we’re together?”

  She pulls the rest of her hair over her shoulders, using it as some kind of armor. “No, I mean . . . yes. Ugh.” She covers her face. “I’m sorry. I keep saying the wrong things. I’m so bad at this.”

  “No, you’re not.” I pull her hands from her face. “As long as you’re honest, you’re never saying the wrong things, Honor.”

  She seems super-focused on my chin.

  “Look at me.” I duck a little to get her eyes. “Just be honest.”

  Her throat bobs as she swallows hard. “I really like you, and it scares me because . . .”

  I wait for her to continue, and when she doesn’t, I prompt her lips to move with a kiss.

  “Because I’m afraid you’ll leave and forget about me. You’ll go back to your glamorous life in Las Vegas or Europe, and I’ll be stuck here in Hope Town, forever working for Roy just to keep a roof over my head.” She rubs her chest just below her throat.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

  “What if you get to know me and you realize I’m just . . . ordinary? I mean you’ll start seeing what they all see. What if over time you start seeing me as Bug again?”

  “I don’t know about what they all see, but I know what I feel for you. I remember what I felt for Bug back then, and if I told you, it’d make those cheeks even pinker than they are now.”

  And just like that they grow pink.

  “One day at a time for now, okay?” I can’t convince her of my feelings in one speech; she’ll have to see over time that I’m in this for the long haul.

  “Okay.”

  “Now let me get you in that shower so we can grab some breakfast and I can train for this fight I need to win.” I step between her legs and scoop her off the counter by her ass. Hoisting her up, I feel the tip of my hard-on brush her round ass.

  “You know this showering together thing could end up taking more time than you have.”

  I smile as dirty thoughts of what I can do to a wet and needy Honor tumble through my mind. “That’s the plan.”

  ~~~

  By the time Honor and I make it down to the kitchen, Jonah and Blake are up and sitting at the breakfast bar, glaring at me like I just pissed in their coffee.

  “Mornin’, boys.” I grab a shaker cup and go about making my protein shake.

  They greet Honor politely and ignore me.

  “It’s almost seven-thirty,” Jonah growls.

  “Sorry, I got caught up in the shower.” I screw on the lid and shake the cup.

  “Hmm . . . Seems our boy here needs a little lesson on how to avoid distractions.” Blake’s talking to Jonah but clearly means for me to hear.

  Honor freezes in her coffee-making and whispers, “I’m sorry.”

  “You can’t help being hot, babe. This isn’t your fault.” I would usually throw something at Blake for calling Honor hot, but the way he says it sounds more brotherly than flirtatious. “Caleb needs to learn to focus. That’s on him.”

  “I think you can help us out, though.” Jonah stands up and whispers something to Honor that makes her smile.

  Okay, now I want to throw a fucking toaster at someone. “What?”

  She nods and stares up at Jonah.

  “Think you can do that?”

  “Anything to help.”

  Jonah grins at me, but it’s far from friendly. “You ready, fuckskin?”

  “Dude, what did you say to her?”

  Blake stands and rinses his shaker cup in the sink. “None of your damn business. Now let’s go before the sun fucking goes down.”

  I press a quick kiss on Honor’s lips, hoping she’ll fill me in on what the hell Jonah said to her, but instead, she just smiles and says, “I’ll see you later.”

  ~*~

  Honor

  “Damn, where did I put that thing?” I pull open another drawer and dig through my clothes to the very back, searching for the one thing I need before I go back over to Caleb’s house.

  After Jonah asked for my help, he and Blake took Caleb out to start training. I whipped up some turkey sandwiches and a batch of quinoa salad before I came home to feed the cats and run to the grocery store. I got back in time to freshen up, and now that I’m supposed to be back over there by two o’clock as Jonah requested, I can’t find the one thing I need.

  I slam the drawer closed and head into my granddaddy’s old bedroom to check the dresser in there. When he died, I considered moving into his bigger room, but it felt weird. I left his old furniture in there and used his dresser to store things I was always afraid to get rid of. Sure, I haven’t worn or used any of it in years, but you never know when I might need it again. Like today.

  I’m rummaging through the drawers when there’s a knock on my door. A flutter of excitement goes through me when I think that maybe it’s Caleb, but I know better. He wouldn’t skip out on training just to come see me.

  I stomp down the hallway to my room and pull a robe on over my bra and shorts then tie it while heading to the door. When I open it, there’s a tall good-looking guy with dark hair who I’ve never seen before staring back at me.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Cohen Cage, I work with Ax.” He holds his hand out for me to shake. “Honor, right?”

  “Yes. Nice to meet you.”

  He nods. “You know a Roy Gibson?”

  “Yes, he’s my—”

  “Of course she knows me!” Roy’s voice yells from beyond Cohen.

  Cohen winces. “Annoying motherfucker, isn’t he?” he says under his breath.

  I roll my eyes. “Very.”

  “I stopped him on his way to your door. Just wanted to make su
re he was invited.”

  “He wasn’t invited, but—”

  Cohen’s expression hardens. “You want me to send him packin’?”

  “Oh, um . . .” I peek around to see Roy’s face fuming red. Sure would feel nice to say yes and slam the door, but I’m once again reminded that I don’t own this door. Roy does. He’s the last person I want to piss off. “No, it’s okay. Thank you, though.”

  Cohen nods and waves Roy forward. He stomps up to the porch, past me, and into my house. “I’ll be close if you need me.”

  “Thanks.”

  He turns and walks away, but he doesn’t go far, and my body fills with warmth for the extra protection, not that I’ll need it.

  “Why aren’t you answering your phone, Bug?”

  My shoulders hit my ears at the sound of my nickname. Being around Caleb and his friends, I’ve been getting used to being called my real name.

  “I called you last night, this morning, twice on my way over. I thought you were fucking dead!”

  I shake my head as his words penetrate. Roy was worried about me? “I’m sorry. My phone was on silent last night, and I forgot to switch it back. I didn’t think you’d—”

  “The house on Peachtree needs to be cleaned; the tenants left yesterday.”

  Ah, so that’s why he was worried. No more free labor if something were to happen to me. “Oh, um . . . okay.” Stupid, Honor. You should know better. “I’ll go first thing tomorrow.”

  “Not tomorrow. Now.”

  “I can’t right now. I have to be at Caleb’s.”

  He scowls and steps close. “What’s going on with you and Dean? And why is Corps Security protecting you?”

  “Added security from the media. Those guys make tons selling even one photo of—”

  “Do I look stupid to you, Bug?”

  Yes. I keep that to myself.

  “Is he fuckin’ you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Your job is to cook for him, to clean up after him, but I do not remember telling you to spread your legs for him.”

  “Who I spread my legs for is none of your business, Roy. I’ve been taking care of Caleb and his guests just as you asked me to.”

  “I bet you have.” His voice is deadly quiet, calm. “I think you’re fucking all of them.”

  I step back but in the small space don’t get far. “You’re sick.”

  “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you going the extra mile, but if you’re giving it up, I want to make sure they pay accordingly.”

  A gasp shoots from my lips at his implication.

  “I know you’re good. Perry told me all about it. He was so grateful for how easily you gave it up every single time he asked. Easy, that’s what he called you.”

  My eyes heat with tears, but I refuse to cry.

  “What do you want, Roy?”

  His jaw clenches. “Go clean the Peachtree house.”

  “Or?”

  “Or . . .” He looks around my living room to make a point, and he doesn’t need to say it. I get it, but he says it anyway. “Find somewhere else to live.”

  “Fine, I’ll go clean.”

  He cups his ear. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

  “I said okay!”

  “Good.” He holds out his hand. “Bring me your phone.”

  “Roy—”

  “Now!”

  I run back to my bedroom and snag it from my purse, and when I turn around, I slam right into his chest. “Get out of my room.”

  “Calm down, Bug,” he says like I’m some obnoxious child. He pulls my phone from my hand and flips it off silent. “Answer when I call.” He tosses my phone on my bed, and I watch it skim the quilt, grateful when it stops at the edge before falling off. “You know . . .” His finger brushes my bare chest that is exposed from the open neckline of my robe.

  I smack his hand away and bunch the fabric at my throat.

  “Don’t forget who owns this house and the property it sits on. I don’t like being told I can’t be on my own fucking property. I want you to think about where you’d be if it weren’t for me, Buggy. You were a second away from living under a rock when I saved your ass. Don’t mistake my helping for friendship. I will take it back as easily as I gave it.” He grips a lock of my hair and tugs it. “Peachtree house.”

  “Sooner you leave, the sooner I’ll get there.” I spit the words through my teeth.

  “Atta girl.” He leans in and presses a cold wet kiss to my forehead. “That’s my good little Bug.”

  Fuck you.

  Ten

  Caleb

  Wanna know what turns a 500-square-foot space into a sweat lodge? Professional athletes training without windows, one AC wall unit and two dinky fans, that’s what.

  We can’t even open the door because the paps would have a fucking heyday snapping pics and leaking them to Graham’s camp.

  I’m drenched in sweat, and the salt burns my eyes as a 250-pound tatted-out fucker lies on my chest. As if that wasn’t fun enough, he’s also got my arm locked in a submission hold. Not exactly my idea of a party.

  “Go ahead.” Jonah growls in my ear, and the bitch is almost as sweaty as I am. “Show me how you’re going to break the Kimura when he has side control.”

  I jam my foot behind his knee in a butterfly hook, lift and push, but . . . “You weigh a fucking ton.”

  “Yeah, so when you get stuck like this with Graham, it should be easy. Now get me off, fuckface.”

  “Whoa, boys.” Blake squats down near our heads. “I know it’s hot and you’re missing your women, but don’t you start flirting. We got work to do.”

  I try again, and this time Jonah doesn’t fight me and allows me to toss off his lower half, making him lose side control. “You . . . seriously need . . . to go on a diet.” I fight to catch my breath.

  Jonah sprawls out beside me and slaps his abs. “Rock hard, bitch.”

  “Hey!” Blake throws his hands out. “What did I say about flirting?”

  Jonah grabs a nearby pad and chucks it at Blake’s face. “Speaking of flirting, what time is it? Honor said she’d be here at two.”

  Blake checks his phone. “It’s four-thirty.” A hint of worry tinges his voice, matching the flicker of anxiety I feel.

  I sit up and catch the towel Blake tosses to me. “Are you sure she said two? Maybe she misunderstood?”

  I can’t think of a single reason why she’d say she’s going to come by and not show up. My muscles wobble as I stand and head to my phone I left on the weight bench. I never did give her my number. Seemed pointless when she lives right across the street and is here making meals three times a day. I figured, if she needed to get in touch with me, she’d know where to find me.

  Unease unfurls in my gut when I consider what could be keeping her. “We should go ask the security guy, Cohen. I’m sure he knows where she is.”

  “Ten-minute break wouldn’t kill us.” Jonah grabs his water bottle, and we head to the door.

  The moment it’s open we’re hit with a humid breeze that cools my skin. I swing my gaze around the garage and expect to see some scattered photographers but only find Cohen Cage walking from around the back of the house.

  “Hey, man.”

  He nods toward us, running a hand through his hair to push it back off his forehead. “Just found a guy hiding under a fucking kayak by the lake. These assholes will do anything.”

  “You chase him off?” Jonah’s gaze scans the beach.

  “Told him if I saw him trespassing on private property again he’d need to have that kayak surgically removed from his asshole.”

  Blake laughs then clears his throat. “How fast did he run?”

  Cohen grins. “Pretty fuckin’ fast.”

  “Hey, uh . . . have you see Honor today?”

  He looks over at her house, almost instinctively, as if he’s constantly on the lookout. “Yeah, I did. She had a visitor around one-thirty, Roy Gibson. Wormy fucker.
She said she knew him, so he went in for about ten minutes. I stayed ’til he left. She left shortly after in her truck.”

  “Did she say where she was going?”

  Cohen frowns. “No, not that she’d tell me. Our instructions are to watch her here, tail you when you go into town, but there’s nothing that said we need to tail her.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine.” And yet my fists clench and unclench at my sides. “If you see her, would you tell her to come to the garage?”

  He squints past me to the street then nods. “Looks like you can tell her yourself.”

  I turn in time to see Honor’s beat-up Chevy pull off the road and into her dirt driveway. I mumble a quick, “Be right back,” and head toward her. I cross the street at a jog and make it to the bed of her truck just as she hops out.

  “Honor, hey.”

  She spins quickly as if I surprised her. I can’t pick up on what exactly is off, but something about her expression seems tense. “Oh, hey.”

  “Where’ve you been? Jonah said you were going to come by the garage.”

  She rubs her forehead and finishes by pushing her hair back off her face. “Yeah, sorry, but I had some work I had to do.”

  “With Roy?” I hate the accusing tone in my voice, but it’s too late to suck the words back in.

  “No, not with Roy. For Roy. He is my boss.”

  “Is that why he came to see you today?” Shitty, shitty, everything coming out of my mouth sounds so fucking shitty and I hate myself for it, but fuck if I’m okay with her blowing me off for that prick.

  She throws out one hip and crosses her arms at her chest. “You got something to say, just say it.”

  “You blew me off for Roy.”

  “My job.”

  I run a hand through my sweat-soaked hair. “Listen. I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “Then don’t.” A sliver of that defensive attitude leaks into her stance as she props her fists on her hips.

  “You’re cute when you get mad.”

  “You haven’t seen me mad yet.” She crosses to me and wraps her arms around my waist.

  “I’m sweaty, babe.”

  “I don’t care. And I am too.”

  I hold her as tightly as my fatigued muscles will allow.

  “Give me five minutes, and I’ll meet you at the garage, okay?”