Seducing the Bodyguard

by Capri Montgomery

  He hadn’t slept with Lani. He hadn’t even tried. Although she was definitely the type of woman, physically, that he would have gone for. She had long black hair, nice voluptuous breast, striking blue eyes and legs that went on for days. She was five-nine, which he liked because he was tall himself. Her skin was smooth, but pale. She didn’t tan well, but that porcelain look fit her well. The only thing that kept him from trying for more with her was the fact that he had hired her on with the company. He didn’t date anybody in the company. While he had thought of breaking his own rule once or twice, he never allowed himself to do that. Now he was glad he hadn’t. The moment he fired her, Lani said she was go to the press and say he was sexually harassing her. He told her to have at it because he had a tape that showed her breaking into his locked desk, stealing a binder with his work inside, granted old work, but still his work none the less, and that he was sure the police would be more than happy to arrest her for it. Instead, she went away quietly and he left out the cops. The last thing he needed was that type of press with all the other things that were going on with his life and his show.

  He had told Valencia about the fiasco and she had given him a look before shaking her head as if she was going to say something, but opted not to. “What?” He asked her. “Tell me?”

  “I was just thinking that maybe your mother put her up to it. This was around the time that you were working on this opera, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “She knew you were going to hire Geneva and she didn’t want you to. Maybe she thought if she got rid of your work that you wouldn’t hire Geneva. When things didn’t work out—”

  “She implemented plan B. She tried to kill my sister.”

  Valencia shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong. I probably am.”

  But he could tell she knew she was right, and he was starting to see the situation in the same light. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” he had said. “My mother is in prison and Lani is far, far away.” He didn’t know where she was, but he knew she was gone and he knew she wasn’t the woman behind the letters. He had found out she had no interest in black men at all—in fact, she couldn’t stand them. He was mixed, but he knew most people looked at him and saw a black man, as had she. There was no way a woman with that much disgust in black men would ever write him letters like that.

  Whoever his stalker was, she had probably moved on to somebody else already. He had assured Valencia of that fact, trying to get her to stop being so serious. She had assured him that the second biggest mistake anybody could make was presuming safety, presuming that all was clear. “Always,” she had said. “Always be ready for any attack.” And on those words she sweep kicked him off his feet before he could blink. He used some of the techniques she had taught him in order to free himself from her hold, but in the end he still ended up pinned beneath her beautiful body. He was rather starting to like the position. He wouldn’t mind being in the same position under different circumstances.

  He needed some serious advice on how to get what he wanted right now, but he couldn’t exactly ask the guys about seducing Valencia when they had already led everybody to believe they were already hitting the mattress together each night. He resisted the urge to slap hand to forehead again. The last thing he needed was for the guys to sense something was wrong. They were like bloodhounds. The moment they realized there was trouble they would for sure piece together just what the trouble was.

  Les and Chester had been with all of his shows from the very beginning they were like surrogate brothers to him. He would say he was closer to them than he was some of his family, maybe because they worked hard and never expected a handout. They were good men with good values. He couldn’t say that about all of his family. His father had just recently, within the last couple years, become a better man; and it had taken a health scare to knock that sense of morality into him.

  Les was his in charge guy for all things set design while Chester was the head honcho stage manager. Jeremiah had come on board in his last opera, midway through actually, but it felt as if he had been there with them from the beginning. He was a friend from high school. When he fell on hard times, Harrison didn’t think twice about employing the man to handle lighting setups. He was a genius on so many levels and he learned the tricks of the trade quickly. Drew, he was the youngest of the group in age only. Drew had joined his team when his father passed. In some way, Drew had always been on the team because he had often worked side by side with his dad on the books, but he wasn’t out of college, hadn’t had his CPA certifications and really had never asked for a permanent spot. Even after he finished college and did all the CPA exams, he still worked more pro bono, as if all he wanted to do was be by his father’s side, learning the trade from the master. Maybe he had known that his father’s time on this earth was limited and he wanted to be with him every step of the way. Drew had traveled with them whenever his father traveled and he was, in every way except on paper, a member of the team. When Drew’s father died Harrison hired him on full time. Of course he had told Harrison he wasn’t sure why he had hired him when he spent more time watching the books than Drew did himself. Harrison had simply laughed off Drew’s words. Harrison’s father, Mr. Remington Sinclair himself, had long ago told him to keep the books closer to him than anything or anybody else. He trusted Drew, but old habits weren’t going to die when it came to making sure his money was where it should be. Even when Drew’s father was his accountant he handled the books the same way. It was as if the books literally had two keepers, the accountant and himself, and it would always be that way.

  “Gin,” Drew grinned as he spread his hand on the table. “Am I good or what;” he laughed.

  “You’re a ringer,” Les rolled his eyes. “You’re playing us.”

  “And taking all our money,” Jeremiah agreed.

  “The accountant wins again,” Harrison laughed. “Well, I always said the man was good with money.”

  “Yeah, our money,” Les laughed. “Next hand I’m going to kick your behind, Drew, just wait and see.”

  “Oh yeah, you said that four hands ago and so far the only person who has beaten me is Harrison.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Shut up and shuffle the cards,” Jeremiah laughed. “The night is still young and we’re going to win all our money back…or more like, I’m going to win all of your money back,” he pointed his finger at the other three players.

  “Dream on, Red.” Harrison chuckled as he used the nick name Jeremiah seemed to hate for people to use. He had short cut red hair that stood out against his deep ebony skin. He hated being called Red, but he never once thought of dying his hair any other color. “I’d look funny,” he had said. “I’ve had red hair my entire life.” He was twenty-nine and twenty-nine years of red was enough to make him severely attached to the color.

  “All right, that’s it. I’m going to clean you out for that one, buddy.”

  “I’m sitting this hand out,” he shook his head as he stood up. “I’m going to check on Valencia.”

  “Should we let ourselves out?” Chester laughed.

  “I’m just checking to make sure she’s okay in there.”

  “Yeah sure. You’re planning a quickie.”

  “Trust me, I don’t do anything quick,” he grinned. “And I really am just checking to see if she needs any food.”

  “She can come back out here you know.”

  “Right, so you guys can fawn over her.”

  “Dude, she’s hot. Does she have any sisters?”

  “No. And she’s not available so don’t even contemplate anything beyond hello and goodbye with her,” he mumbled as he left the room. He heard the boisterous laughter followed by chants that he’d fallen hard for the exotic goddess.

  He knocked on her door before entering.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, of course,” he said. “I just wanted to check on you. Do you need anything? Food, water, beer?”

  “I don’t drink,” she
reminded him. “And I already ate.”

  “Okay. Well I hope you won’t mind if I hide out in here for a few minutes. Drew is kicking our butts out there and I don’t want to lose any more of my money.”

  She laughed. “You don’t pay attention,” she said. “You can tell when he has a good hand and when he’s bluffing if you’d only pay attention.”

  “You were only out there for two minutes of game time. How do you know?”

  “I pay attention,” she said seriously. “And it was more than two minutes.”

  “So give me a tip here. I’ll give you a nice reward if you help me win a few more hands.”

  She shook her head. “Pay attention,” she stressed. “Pay attention to your surroundings and to the people around you.”

  “Is this another lesson in not getting my butt kicked?”

  “Or killed,” she stated. “Drew raises his eyebrow the moment he looks at his cards. When the hand is good you’ll see that right eyebrow edge upward. It’s subtle and quick, but he does it every time. Now when the hand is mediocre I noticed he doesn’t make a move, but when it’s bad he narrows his eyes when he looks at the cards. He only does it at first sight, so you have to watch him for it.”

  “Wow. I didn’t notice that.”

  “You don’t pay attention,” she stressed. How many times had she told him he needed to pay attention? It felt like at least a hundred. He shook his head and smiled.

  “Any other tips?”

  “I think you should concentrate on Drew since he’s the one winning.”

  “You don’t know any other tips,” he teased.

  “Chester hitches his right ankle to his left knee when his hand is good and vice versa when it’s bad. Jeremiah gets this quirky need to scratch his ear. It’s kind of cute actually, but when he does it I know he has a hand he thinks he can win with. Now whether he can or not depends on what everybody else has. And Les, well he’s kind of the hard read, but if you pay attention long enough you’ll notice that he shifts to his right when he’s trying to figure out if he has a shot in the dark at winning, but he leans back in his chair when he’s certain his hand is good.”

  “Wow, you got all that from just a few minutes of observation?”

  She shook her head again. “You really have to learn to pay attention to your surroundings. All of you should, but right now you’re the only one I’m worried about. When somebody enters the room you need to take note right away, not ten minutes past their arrival.”

  “You weren’t there that long. Were you?”

  “I was there long enough to know you bluff a good game, but that you give yourself away when you have a solid hand because you caress the back of your cards with your index finger. It’s a subtle rub in an up and down motion. Drew has definitely noticed it, but I would have to observe longer to tell you if the others have picked up on it.”

  “Wow,” he exhaled slowly. “I think I need to invite you to a few of our games so you can help me win.”

  “You don’t need my help to win,” she said. “You just need to pay attention to your surroundings. Now,” she placed the book she was reading on the nightstand and stood up. “You have a game to play.”

  “Yes I do,” he smiled knowing he was going to play that game from an entirely new perspective the moment he sat down.

  “Let me know before they leave. I want to make sure I’m out there before that door opens.”

  “You’re too serious,” he shook his head wondering just when she would relax completely. Probably never he assumed, not unless he showed her his perfect way of relaxing. “But I’ll let you know,” he said quickly knowing she wasn’t thrilled with his ability to still take the situation lightly. Seriously, nobody was trying to hurt him, and she needed to get that through her beautiful head sooner rather than later. In fact, Drake and Geneva needed to get it through their heads too. He probably had a better chance at convincing them than he did at convincing Valencia. Either way, he was sure trying to convince any of them was a near impossible task—probably completely impossible. But the day he could say, “I told you so,” would be a day he would relish. To see the look on Drake’s face when that day came would be worth its weight in gold. Drake always thought he was right about things like this and he wanted to prove the man wrong on so many levels—but, if it weren’t for his obsession with being right Harrison wouldn’t have met Valencia so in some small way he should probably be thanking Drake for being a little crazy with his danger lurking around every corner type of thinking.

  He returned to the game with a new perspective on how the men surrounding him played. He watched each of them with keen eyes to see if they did the things Valencia had said they did, and sure enough, she had been right. She was the ace up his sleeve because thanks to her he managed to win the next three games. He grinned thinking of the specific reward he intended to give her. He promised a reward and he never went back on a promise—not unless it was to save somebody’s life.

  The moment the door closed Harrison pulled her into his arms and smiled with a devious grin. “I won my money back, plus some,” he looked her over appreciatively. “Reward time,” he said and then quickly executed his descent so that his mouth covered hers. He knew if she wanted to she could hurt him. She could break a few bones or knock him flat on his behind, but she did neither. Instead, she parted her lips and allowed his tongue to slip inside her warm mouth. He slid his hand up her back to the nape of her neck and gently pushed her forward as he deepened the kiss, allowing his tongue to explore every crevice of her mouth.

  He felt her hands clasp his shoulder, but instead of pushing him away she pulled closer, matching his tongue thrust for thrust, lick for lick. He didn’t miss the soft moans escaping her mouth. Moans that had him deepening each thrust, making love to her mouth with his tongue, and wanting so much more. There was no mistake in what he was doing to her, how he was seducing her. His mistake came the moment he let his free hand ease down her back, cover over her behind and pull her flush against his hardened member, knowing full well that he was trying to tell her just what he wanted to do with that erection she was feeling pressed against her belly.

  She placed her hands against the front of his shoulders and pushed him back while taking a step back herself. Her tiny fingers stroked a delicate line over her wet, swollen lips. “Please don’t do that again?” Her voice was husky with desire.

  “I can’t promise you that,” he could hear the desire and need still heavy in his own voice. He stepped closer to her, backing her up against the closed door and placing both hands at either side of her head.

  “I could hurt you,” she reminded him.

  “But you won’t,” he said with certainty. “You won’t because you want this as much as I do. I want you Valencia. Don’t fight this. Don’t fight us.”

  “You just want to take me to bed, Harrison. I’m a novelty to you, a toy you want to play with and then cast aside. I don’t operate on that level and I won’t start now.”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “I want to take you to bed. I want to play with you all night long, getting to know your body intimately. I want to hear those soft moans you give turn into loud screams of ecstasy. I want to hear you call my name with pleasure. I want to watch you come for me,” he moved one hand to slide a finger over her still swollen lips. “But make no mistake about it, love. I want more, much more, than a bed buddy. I want to know everything about you; inside, outside,” he slid his hand down her body to cover her right breast, caressing and squeezing, getting to know what her soft curves felt like beneath his touch. He wanted so much to touch her skin, to hold her small mound in his hand and caress it until she cried out with pleasure. “I want all of you, Valencia.”

  “I can’t give you what you want,” she said breathlessly.

  “Yes you can.” And on those words he once again took control of her lips, of her mouth, kissing her with the fervor of a man in need—a man on a mission who wouldn’t give up until he captured his conquest. If
she had wanted to push him away she could have, but she didn’t. Instead she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with intensity and passion.

  He hoisted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him hotly, intently, arousing more passion than he had ever felt building within his body. He tugged the fitted blouse free of her pants, sliding his hands beneath the fabric and caressing her warm, solid belly as he kissed her deeply, wantonly.

  His mouth left her mouth only to explore another area of her body. He let his lips trail over her neck as he listened to her breathy cries, felt her body undulating against his as her legs began to tighten around his body. He suckled at her neck, letting his hot mouth enjoy the sweet, intoxicating taste of her. He wanted, he needed, more than anything to be inside her, but he would take it slow. He would relish every second this beautiful woman was giving him.

  “Harrison,” she whispered on a breathy cry.

  “Yes, baby;” he continued to suck on her neck, taking gentle nips with his teeth.