Jasmine (Kings of Guardian Book 6)

by Kris Michaels

  Her luggage was sitting on the plush leather and suede bench at the foot of the bed. She unlocked and opened the small case, lifted the tray-like shelf to expose a false bottom to the makeup case and lifted out her .45 caliber and extra clips. Jasmine loaded the weapon, chambered a round and thumbed the safety. “Which side do you sleep on? I need to be on this side.”

  Chad shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I sleep in the middle.”

  Jasmine gave him her best withering look and walked to the side closest to the door, the one that would put her between a threat and Chad when they slept. She positioned the weapon under the pillow. Walking back to the case, she lifted out her concealed weapon, a Glock 43. The light, slim-lined weapon fed into a concealed carry holster that attached to the waistline of her skirt and tucked into the hollow of her back. With the flowing muslin top, no one would notice the weapon unless they touched it, and nobody was getting that close. Two leather harnesses and fine-edged throwing blades came out of the case. She opened a dresser drawer and hid them below his shirts. Her shoulder holster for her .45 would stay in the suitcase until she needed it.

  “How did you get them through airport security?”

  She shook her head as she pulled out a Taser and loaded the battery. She tossed that on top of her purse. “I didn’t. I gave you two baggage claim tickets that were issued by the airline and one that was created by Guardian. This case was prepped for me locally and added to the conveyor belt by Guardian when the luggage was being offloaded in the baggage handling area.” Jasmine pulled out her handcuffs and badge and dropped them on the bed before she shut the lid.

  Chad’s eyes lingered on the cuffs. She couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, but with what she knew about his membership at Club Chameleon she could well imagine the thoughts running through his mind. He finally blinked and focused on her before he cleared his throat and motioned to the music room. “When you’ve freshened up, we’ll grab a bite to eat. There are some things I should probably inform you about.”

  “Things other than sleeping arrangements?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had some shit go down. Your organization needs to be briefed, and I need to take some steps to ensure it never happens again.”

  “Is everything alright?”

  “No, I can honestly say things aren’t all sunshine and roses. We can discuss it over dinner, then you can call the man in black if you think it’s necessary.”

  “Alright. Give me two minutes.” She replaced the false bottom and grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste out of the other bag. Chad left the room and shut the door quietly behind him. Seeing the country boy suddenly subdued didn’t make her happy. The guy looked like the weight of the world was sitting on his shoulders.

  Jasmine flipped on the bathroom light switch and took in the elegant grandeur of the appointments bathed in the light from two crystal chandeliers. A natural stone-and-travertine-lined shower ran down the entire side of one wall. Two walk-in closets the size of her kitchen back in Virginia consumed the other side of the room. Two opulent crystal bowls topped a natural stone vanity and were topped off by floating mirrors that seemed to hover in space. A partial wall and a fireplace hid a huge step-down tub that could hold a party of six. “Well, color me impressed, cowboy.” Jasmine turned and did another three-sixty. “Color me impressed.”

  Chapter Nine

  “So… you’re just going to walk away from a career you broke your back to build?” The music room remained void of sound for several seconds.

  “Yeah.” Chad played with the food on his plate. The man hadn’t eaten much, and after he’d told her about Millicent’s violation of his NDA and his decision to quit, he’d been withdrawn and quiet.

  “Is it because a few people found out about the club?” Jasmine took a drink of her water and studied him. Dinner had been sent up from the kitchen and served on a small side table just past the grand piano.

  “Yes and no.” He downed the rest of his third scotch and sighed. The dark circles under his eyes and the line that formed between them told her the man was exhausted, stressed and probably not thinking straight. He filled his glass with ice and poured the amber liquid over it. Jasmine picked at the remainder of the meal. She sensed Chad wanted, or maybe needed, to talk to someone. In her capacity as a PSO, she’d been a sounding board, a confidante and sometimes took on a parental role. She knew when one of her principals needed to vent, and Chad was a shining example of someone who needed a person with whom he could talk.

  He tapped the side of his crystal tumbler and glanced up at her as if he was trying to make a decision whether or not to open up. She wouldn’t rush him.

  “Look, I go to the club, but most nights I’m not there to look for a scene. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve done them, but for me, it is more about self-discovery than getting off.” He gave a rueful laugh and looked down at his glass.

  “May I be completely inappropriate and ask what you’ve discovered?” Jasmine watched as he stood and walked over to the bar that was positioned between a stand full of guitars and the overstuffed sectional. He sat the full tumbler down and stared out into the music room.

  He shrugged his shoulder and looked over at her. She could feel his assessment… whether or not he dared to reveal himself to her. She got that. His world had been torn to shreds, and he didn’t know who he could trust.

  “I can assure you that nothing you say will be repeated to anyone… unless it somehow involves the murders.” Jasmine followed Chad further into the opulently decorated room and tucked herself into the corner of the massive sectional so she could watch him. His eyes held a spot on the wall, but she could tell he was far, far away from this room.

  His gaze shifted back to the tumbler on top of the bar before he gave the slightest shake of his head.

  “Sometimes talking about things with a stranger helps.”

  He glanced her way and tightened his jaw. Chad’s shoulders dropped, and his back still toward her, he spoke quietly. “At the very beginning of my career, just after I hit the top of the charts, I was up to my elbows in women, money, and fame. I drank hard, did drugs, and partied all night—every night. I was performing in Nashville, the last show of my first headline tour. I guess I’d invited my mom to the show, or at least she told me I had. Anyway, after the show, a couple of the boys and I were relieving some stress.” Chad threw a glance her way, took a deep breath and continued, “Looking at it without the drug haze, we had an orgy. My mother walked in on that.”

  Chad closed his eyes and dropped his head back. “Needless to say, it was a wake-up call. I used the break between tours to detox and get some counseling. I cleaned house. Got rid of the people who were with me for the drugs and the scene. I hired a physical trainer and through him met a guy who had been through some of the same things I had been through. He’s famous. Anyway, he invited me to go with him to Chameleon. He’s a Dom. The evening was very… enlightening. I’d be lying if I said I had any idea BDSM existed before that night.”

  Chad moved to the far side of the couch and sat silent for several minutes. Jasmine tried to imagine the guilt, embarrassment, hell, the horror she’d feel if her mother walked in on her while she was intimate with her ex, and his mom had seen so much more. No wonder he’d had a come-to-Jesus moment. Jasmine prompted, “So you took up the lifestyle?”

  “No, not really, at least not the way most people assume. I’ve learned how to use all the implements, to bring pleasure from pain, but as much as the women I do scenes with seem to enjoy the interaction, I’m not a sadist. Although the pain brings them pleasure, the acts leave me feeling empty. But over the years I have taken on the tenets of the lifestyle. Safe, Sane and Consensual. I’m a Dominant, and I embrace that. I seek out a specific trait in the woman with whom I’m intimate. She allows me to control the encounter. I give her what she needs, and she gives me what I need.”

  Jasmine hesitated before she asked, “What do you need?”

  A sad smile spread before he spoke. “When
you boil it down, I guess… a connection. One that is on a pure and honest level. No pretenses, no games. Not someone who is after my money, the fame, or the prestige of being with me.”

  Jasmine gave his comments careful consideration. They struck a chord deep within her. After all, she’d been searching for a connection when she’d dated Evan. She’d accepted his marriage proposal hoping to find the thing that Chad described. She cleared her throat, hoping the action could clear her mind. “I’ve done this job long enough to know there are types of people who will always look to be part of that fame and fortune.” Like Evan… like his groupies. Jasmine watched as he leaned back and closed his eyes.

  “Yeah. That’s why I keep the people I trust close. And look what that’s done for me. I have lost grip on my reality. Hell, I don’t have even a small portion of my life under my control, and let me tell you, sweetheart, it sucks. It took your brother’s little one-on-one with me a couple of days ago to figure all that out, but it’s true. The smoke and mirrors that my business erected allowed me to think I had a say in things in my life, but I don’t.”

  Jasmine sat in their shared, comfortable silence. She weeded through the man’s comments. His trips to the club were him seeking what he instinctively knew he was missing in his life, but had no idea how to get. She knew that feeling. Her ex-fiancé Evan had been her attempt to grab onto that connection. Unfortunately, she’d never been able to give him all of her heart, and the emotional distance had cost her. She glanced over at Chad. He wanted a real relationship. He didn’t say it, but the truth was there for anyone to see.

  His small snore pulled her out of her head, and she glanced at the end of the couch and sighed. Poor Mr. Singer Dude. She lifted off the couch and went into the bedroom. After she pulled down the blankets, she returned to the music room and gently shook Chad awake.

  “Hey, come on. You need to sleep, and I have some work to do.”

  Chad woke with a start, leaned forward and scrubbed his face. “I haven’t slept more than a couple of hours since the night at the Georgia Dome.”

  “I can believe it. Go on, get into bed and get some rest. I’m here now, and I’ve got your back.”

  Chad stood and glanced down at her. Their gazes met and held. He seemed to make a decision, because he nodded and headed into the bedroom. Jasmine pulled out her phone and sent a text. She wasn’t going to call this late, but Jared needed to know about the manager and to a lesser degree the others around Chad who had shown the desire to maneuver his life. Manipulation of the people in Chad’s inner circle was a hotspot. She needed to find out if there were flames smoldering under the ashes.

  ~~

  Chad woke immediately. He opened his eyes knowing what he’d see. Jasmine lay half on top of him, her hair in a wild mess over his chest, shoulders and face. He blew a small puff of air out, moving a strand that tickled his nose. His arm tingled with pins and needles. He moved it slightly, shifting her shoulder from off of it, and squeezed his eyes shut as the blood ran back into it. How in the hell they’d ended up in the middle of the bed with her splayed over him was a mystery, but if the feel of her body against his was the answer, he’d take that mystery box every damn time. He flexed his fingers and made a fist several times before he drew a deep breath. God, Jasmine smelled and felt amazing against him. His morning wood agreed as it plumped against his thigh.

  He smiled at the small snore that repeated at a smooth, rhythmic interval. He had no idea how to decipher the complex woman. Hell, she knew more about him than Kirk did, and that said something. Kirk had been with him since the early days in Nashville.

  Two voices lifted in anger outside in the music room. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but it pissed him off that someone was in his private area without his permission. Chad started to lift Jasmine off him, but she stopped him. He heard the distinct click of the safety being removed from the .45 she’d placed under the pillow.

  Kirk’s voice came through the door clearly. “You cannot go in there, Milli.”

  Millicent’s scathing reply was low, hissed and wasn’t clear enough to hear, but it was closer to the door and whatever she said didn’t matter.

  Jasmine lifted up and lay on top of him, freeing her gun arm in the same motion. “Slide the sheet over my shoulders and kiss me like you mean it.”

  Her whispered comment sent a flame thrower through his body, and without thinking he obeyed immediately and felt the cold metal of the gun settle against his ribs. Jasmine didn’t hesitate to drop her lips to his. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her lips tight against his. He demanded entry and ravaged her mouth. When she fucking moaned into him, his raging hard cock pegged her soft stomach.

  The door opened, turning both of their lust-filled gazes toward it. Millicent stood frozen in the doorway. Her eyes popped wide open, and her mouth gaped. Kirk stood right behind her. He grabbed her by the waist. “I told you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  Kirk’s comments seemed to unfreeze Millicent. He was going to fire the woman. Chad wasn’t opposed to having the conversation covered in almost six feet of Jasmine, but he didn’t think Jasmine would be too happy about it.

  Chad pulled Jasmine down to rest on his chest. She turned into his neck demurely, but the grip on the automatic didn’t lessen.

  “Get out. Now.” Chad growled the comment.

  “Look, Chad…” Millicent had balls the size of coconuts.

  Chad let out his anger and aggression and yelled, “Now!” At the shout, Jasmine squeaked and burrowed closer to him. His hand possessively wrapped around her back.

  Kirk unceremoniously pulled Millicent out of the room and shut the door. A whispered fight took place outside the door.

  Jasmine lifted her head and looked at the door. She smiled and winked at him. “Good morning.”

  He let out a long breath. “Lord, it could be.” He moved his hips slightly. If she weren’t staring directly at him, he’d have missed the flash of lust that raced across her expression when she realized how hard he was.

  He heard the safety on her weapon click as she lifted off him. Her white silk and lace cami did nothing to hide the hardened peaks of her breasts. Jasmine sat next to him, and damned if she didn’t give his body the once over. His cock jerked at the attention.

  “You need to find out what that was all about, but I want to be there, and to do that I need to put on my game face. Kirk may have recognized me without my makeup.” Her voice carried to him a shade above a whisper.

  Chad put both hands behind his head and took in the beautiful woman beside him. “You don’t need makeup. You’re beautiful without it.”

  Jasmine made a face at him and slid off the bed. She walked into the bathroom. The skimpy lace boy shorts matched her camisole, and fuck if it didn’t showcase the cheeks of her ass in fine detail. He followed her and leaned against the door frame. He’d tucked the tire rod impersonating his cock between the elastic of his boxers and his lower abs, and he prayed the big guy didn’t decide to pop out and say hello.

  “I need a couple of minutes. You take the shower. I’ll wash up over there.” She motioned past the wall into the area that held the tub. She grabbed for her makeup kit and stopped in the closet, where she’d obviously hung up her clothes last night, before she headed toward the tub.

  “The shower’s big enough for two.” Chad nodded toward the one and only thing he’d demanded—other than his music room—when this house was built.

  “That shower is big enough for twenty, but that’s not the point. They need to believe we showered together. You’ll have your privacy, and I’ll have mine.”

  Chad watched her disappear and groaned. He reached into the shower and started the steam and rain-head systems. The pulsing side jets followed. He dropped his boxers and stepped into his little slice of heaven. His cock ached for release. His balls were high and tight. He pushed farther into the shower and looked back toward the door entrance. Steam rolled, obscuring the view, and he thanked God for that
fact. He soaped his body quickly, but slowed when his hand circled his shaft. He imagined Jasmine a few feet away in his bathtub.

  He groaned at the memory of the feel of her body against his. And that kiss. That fucking kiss was heaven on earth. She’d moaned into his mouth. That shit wasn’t acting. He’d felt her body respond, seen her obvious arousal through the lace of her skimpy top. His hand jacked up and down his weeping dick. If he expected to make it through the day, he needed to bust it now. He glanced back and assured himself no one could see into the interior of the shower. He braced one arm against the tile walls, the hot water drenching him as he increased the rhythm of his pulls. He twisted his hand over the head of his cock and tightened his grip. That flash of arousal Jasmine had allowed to slip through her mask this morning pushed him over the edge. He gasped silently and shot against the wall of the shower, pushing through his hand several times and sending another white rope onto the floor. He leaned into the wall and drew a deep breath. He wanted Jasmine. Not as a bodyguard, not for a scene or a one night stand.

  Chapter Ten

  Shit, shit, shit… shit! The shower turned on, and Jasmine drew the first deep breath she’d taken since Chad had kissed her. She pulled her hair out of her face and stared at the huge tub. Her hand trembled as she turned on the water. No… this was bad. So fucking bad.

  She needed to get ahold of herself. She shed her clothes, drew her hair into a messy bun at the top of her head, and got in the tub. She wrapped her arms around her legs and pressed her forehead into her knees. The argument outside the door had awakened her. How the hell she was that close to him to begin with baffled her. She wasn’t a snuggle-type person. Even when she lived with Evan, they’d both had very definite sides of the bed. Yet she’d woken up lying almost completely on top of that sexy as hell singer. No, no, no, no! You cannot think of him that way. He’s your primary. He’s a job. Nothing more.