by Jennifer Ann
Hunter’s eyes pop wide. “You watched her show? Oh shit…can’t believe you did that.”
“Wish I hadn’t,” I mutter into what’s left of my beer.
Levi steps between us, and sets his arm on his cousin’s shoulder. “I could’ve told you not to watch it. One of my college buddies told me it’s better than porn because the acting’s actually good.”
Rage clenches my chest as Sadie’s handing out fresh beers to everyone. “Can we talk about something else?” I grunt, swiping my new beer and taking a long swig.
My coworker sets a hand on her hip and narrows her eyes. “Still can’t believe you’re ditching us. You’ll be too famous by proxy to come up here anymore if you come home to visit.”
“I’m sure he’ll still come to see you,” Levi tells her with a cheesy wink.
Sadie laughs and takes Hunter’s $20 bill to the register.
Everyone knows Sadie and I have fooled around on and off over the years. She’s cute enough, and likes to have fun, but it never turned into anything more. There wasn’t any kind of connection between us beyond sex. The sole thing we have in common is that we both worked at Roadrunners, and even that’s about to end. She’s more Hunter’s type—into 4-wheeling and shooting animals.
“We don’t have much going on until harvest,” Hunter tells me, tipping his chin in Levi’s direction. “Want us to come down after a few days? Maybe the three of us together could convince this actor she’s seeing to take a hike.”
I shake my head. “I’m not starting that kind of shit with your sister. And don’t even think about asking me to spy on her, because I already promised her that’s not what this is about. I’m there to help her, make sure no one’s stalking her.” After taking a drink, I hold my beer up to them. “But you fuckers are still welcome to crash at my place anytime as long as you remember I’m down there to work.”
They clank their bottles against mine before we launch into a conversation about some chick Levi’s been talking to online. I’m secretly counting down the hours until I can see Angie again.
The Uber driver parks the battered sedan in front of a modern white building overlooking the water. I lean forward to inspect it closer through the windshield. “Holy shit.”
“A friend of yours lives here?” he assumes with a quiet chuckle. “They’re living the good life…that’s for sure.”
Instead of correcting him, I nod along. I’m used to a modest way of life, and being proud that I could afford a low mortgage. Telling people I live in a place this fancy won’t be easy.
The old man lifts his gray eyebrows. “Need help with your luggage?”
Chuckling quietly, because the guy can’t weigh more than a buck and a quarter, I shake my head. “I’ve got it.” I fish a ten dollar bill out of my wallet and hand it to him. As much as Charlie’s paying me, I can afford to be a little nicer to people like this dude who told me his wife was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. “Thanks for the ride, Victor. Take care.”
After grabbing my suitcase and duffel bag from the trunk, I head into the lobby. It’s even more pretentious than the outside, covered in white marble and white leather furniture. I introduce myself to the manager on duty as the new tenant. She appears baffled until I explain I’m also the new head of Angie’s security. I imagine most of my neighbors will be millionaires.
The 30-something year old woman gives me a detailed tour of the property before handing her business card over, and leaving me outside my new apartment. She offered to show me features inside the unit, but I wanted to take it in on my own.
I suck in a deep breath before opening the door, knowing it won’t give off vibes anything like that of a real home. I’m met with an open space, still ripe with the odor of fresh paint from the dark gray walls. Its contents are minimal, featuring sleek black leather furniture, and modern stainless steel appliances. Not my normal style, but I don’t hate the bachelor atmosphere, or the stellar view of the water through a wall of windows in the living room.
Everything’s simple and masculine. I wouldn’t change a thing. When Evelyn asked if I had any preference on colors, etc, I told her not to make it fancy. She nailed it. I have no idea how she managed to pull it off in such a short time, or how Charlie scored the apartment right next to Angie’s, but I’m assuming they have enough money to do whatever they want. I’m going to have to go above and beyond what’s expected of me to earn this damn place.
I drop my bags on the modern kitchen tile, and take a quick tour. In the first room, I find an office bigger than my kitchen back home. It houses a complex security system to keep a closer eye on Angie’s place. A new laptop and smart phone still in their packaging wait to be opened on the desk, along with a handwritten welcome note from Evelyn. She explains that someone from the security company will be stopping by Monday to give me a detailed rundown of the system. She also provides directions on how to access the safe on the north wall using a combination of my birthday and my parents’ house number. I open it to find a black, velvet-lined box with a 9mm semi-automatic pistol. I’m thankful for all the years James and Hunter’s dad took us hunting as kids along with the training I received in military school. The idea of having to use it to protect Angie churns my insides even though I know it could be necessary.
Inside the master bedroom, dark wooden floors, black accent walls, and plain black bedding gives the suite a warmer feel that the rest of the apartment. My clothes will look ridiculous in the walk-in closet big enough to be converted into another guest room.
After stripping down to my boxers, I take another sweep of the apartment, finding a case of beer and a decent supply of groceries already in the fridge. Thank fuck Evelyn thought of everything.
I crack a bottle open and take it out to sweat on my new balcony. It’s big enough to entertain company with a tiki wood table and chairs, plus a handful of loungers. Beyond the glass half-wall, I’m given a bird’s eye view of the property’s private swimming pool and a yacht club next door where dozens of boats are moored in the center of the bay.
Living here’s going to be something out of my wildest dreams.
When I lean over the railing, I’m able to see Angie’s brightly padded furniture next door. She’s working until at least ten tonight, so I have several hours to settle in, explore the neighborhood, and do whatever the fuck I want. Only Charlie’s paying me a shit-ton to take care of his sister-in-law, so I plan to apply for my conceal and carry permit, find the nearest shooting range, utilize the property’s gym, then familiarize myself with Angie’s favorite hangouts as well as anyone and everyone involved in her life. I’m taking every minute I’m here seriously.
After receiving a tour of the studio from one of the security guards, I arrive on the set at half past nine. I’m given a lanyard to wear and introduced to the crew before some woman directs me where to stand in the shadows as they finish out the last scene of the day. I’ve never been behind the scenes for anything, and wasn’t expecting there to be so much madness involved.
Takes me a full minute before I spot Angie’s pale face behind a beautiful redheaded woman off to the right of the stage. They’re both being fussed over by a handful of crew fixing their hair and makeup. The redhead wears tight-fitting leather from head to toe like some kind of dominatrix, and her face is unnaturally pale. I recognize the woman from the show as the vampire obsessed with the character played by Angie’s boyfriend. The two women’s characters are constantly at each other’s throats. But in one episode in the first season, they almost kissed. I won’t pretend I wasn’t seriously turned on watching it unfold.
When the woman working on Angie’s makeup steps aside, I discover Angie’s wearing nothing more than a black lacy bra and thong underwear. God damn it, I’m instantly hard…she’s so fucking gorgeous. Since she plays the part of a woman brought back from the dead, they’ve made her nearly the same ghostly white as the redhead. It doesn’t take away from her beauty, though. I glance around before discreetly readjusting my s
trained dick inside my khakis.
Angie and the redhead stroll onto the stage set up like a master bathroom. A young guy in a backwards baseball cap turns the shower lever, waiting for Angie to test the temperature. When she’s satisfied, the man walks away, and the redhead joins Angie. The two women share a private conversation, laughing like old friends as Angie becomes soaking wet.
Someone yells, “Action!” and the room falls deafeningly silent.
Angie giggles loudly and stumbles, catching herself on the tiled shower. I almost run to her until I remember they’re acting. This job is already proving to be harder than I thought. Watching on with a full chub as Angie stands half-naked alongside a sexy woman is making it difficult to think straight.
“Don’t argue with me, Ava,” the redhead tells Angie in a deep, scratchy voice. Her dark red lips settle into a scowl. “You aren’t leaving this bathroom until you’re clean.”
“I’m not gettin’ naked in front of you,” Angie slurs.
The woman sighs, replying with a dramatic eye-roll. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Fine.” Angie reaches behind her back, appearing to unhook her bra. When she struggles for a few seconds, the redhead huffs and does it for her. I almost choke on a wad of saliva when Angie’s perfect breasts are exposed, beads of water roll over her pink nipples. She stares at the redhead now standing under the shower stream in front of her, water slipping from the woman’s red hair onto her leather outfit, disappearing between her large breasts.
The redhead gently pushes Angie’s wet hair over her shoulders, then reaches for a bottle of shampoo. “I’ve decided you and I can help each other, Ava.”
They stand chest-to-chest as the woman begins to lather Angie’s hair. It’s impossible to say whether Angie’s turned on by the situation, or she’s merely doing a killer job acting under the circumstances. But I finally appreciate why someone told Levi this show is better than porn.
I glance over both shoulders, wondering if this is really happening, or if I’m in some alternate universe. The only person who seems effected is a short, overweight dude behind one of the cameras several yards away. He keeps licking his lips while glancing between the camera screen and the real-life fantasy playing out in front of a room filled with people. I narrow my eyes on him, begging for any excuse to take him out.
With the sound of a throaty moan, I turn back to the women. Angie’s eyes are closed, her head slumped forward as the redhead works Angie’s dark hair into a lather. It’s an erotic visual beyond my wildest dreams, and likely that of every other straight male in the room. My fingers curl up at my sides, ready to take anyone out for getting off on Angie. Exactly how far are they going to take this shit-show?
“I can teach you the ways of the immortal world,” the redhead tells Angie’s character. “You’re not going to learn anything by hanging around a ghost that’s just as clueless as you.”
“You hate me, Alex. Why the fuck would you want to help?”
“I know what it’s like to be thrown into the undead lifestyle without having someone to guide you. The day after I turned, I almost died from walking into the sunlight.”
Angie snorts. “Too bad you stopped.” Then her eyelids flip open. “What do you want in return?”
“Jacks is completely lost without you. He’s angry and confused because he can’t get in touch with you, and he’s blaming me. He even came to this building looking for you, but of course the bellman hadn’t heard of anyone by the bogus name you gave him.” “Alex” tips Angie’s head back, rinsing the soap from her head. “He’s not himself anymore. You have to take him back. It hurts too much to watch him fall apart.”
“Okay…but what about the part where you warned me to stay away from Jacks because he’s yours, and threatened to tell him the truth about me?” Angie frowns as the woman reaches for another bottle on the shower’s shelf. “What’s the catch?”
“Make no mistake, he’s still mine.” Alex begins to spread liquid soap across Angie’s chest. “That means we’d have to share him.” She leans in, taking Angie’s butt cheek in her hand and loudly whispering in her ear, “At the same time.”
I hear a quiet grunt behind me, and spin around. The overweight camera guy is reaching inside his jeans. Every inch of my body vibrates with rage as I start for him.
“Hey!” I roar. “The fuck you doing?”
The camera guy pales when he sees me coming, hands shooting up at his sides. “N-nothing!”
“Cut!” someone yells. The word is answered by collective groans of frustration. “What’s going on back there?”
Shaking my head, I grab the man by his t-shirt. “Didn’t look like nothing to me!”
The guy leans back, looking ready to piss himself. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m your worst fucking nightmare!” I snarl with spittle flying everywhere.
A middle-aged dude with a scruffy beard and large headphones around his neck appears at our side. “What the hell’s going on? Who are you?”
I release my hold on the camera guy to show him my ID badge. “I caught this prick getting ready to jack off.”
“I knew it!” the bearded dude answers, glaring at the camera guy. “You have five minutes to get your perverted ass off the premises before security escorts you out, William. You’re fired!”
“You can’t just fire me without proper notice!” William yells back. “I’m union!”
The bearded man takes one step closer to William, jaw clenched. “Then you better be contacting both your union rep and your lawyer, because I have a sneaking suspicion you’re also the one stealing underwear from wardrobe, and listing them on eBay! This is a professional atmosphere and that kind of bullshit won’t be tolerated!”
Blood pounds through my ears, muffling whatever William has to say in reply. Is the guy selling Angie’s panties? My clouded vision cuts to the camera guy. His neck is flushed a bright red, and he’s glaring in my direction. I start for him, intending to rip him limb-from-limb, but the bearded guy tells me to let it go at the same time William storms toward the exit.
The bearded dude curses under his breath before offering his hand. My heart’s still pounding like a hummingbird when I take it. I should’ve ripped William’s dick clean off.
“I’m Eddie Sanford, the show’s producer. I thought maybe you were an actor in visiting off another set, but I guess you’re the bodyguard Angelina hired.”
“Ash?” Angie calls out in a high-pitched tone, scurrying in behind the producer as we’re finishing shaking hands. I’m relieved as fuck to see she threw on a robe, even though she’s still sopping wet and could use a towel, too. Her beautiful eyes dart between me and the producer, burning with a mix of worry and surprise. “What happened?”
“He caught William red-handed, so to speak,” Eddie tells her with a friendly roll of his eyes. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to get rid of that dirtbag since last season.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he then glances at the rest of the cast watching on and sighs deeply. “Unfortunately, that means we have to postpone production until I find a new camera operator to take his place.” He clears his throat and hollers, “That’s a wrap! We’ll pick up where we left off on Monday!”
Another chorus of moans follows, then the blunt blast of a loud bell. The crew behind Angie and the producer begins to scatter.
Angie bites down on her lips as our eyes meet. I can’t decide if she’s angry or amused the way her dull irises catch the overhead lights. All I know is she’s beautiful beyond any conventional meaning of the word, and I’m ready to fuck up anyone who does her wrong.
Then she releases a long, deep breath she seems to have been holding. “Thank god. That guy gave me the creeps.”
“That creep managed to score you an unscheduled day off,” Eddie adds, sounding defeated by the idea. “There’s no way I could have someone lined up to take his place by tomorrow morning. Take some time to properly pamper yourself this weekend, Ang. You’ve
earned it.” He kisses her wet head in a fatherly way before tipping his head toward me. “I owe you one, buddy. I’m glad someone like you is going to be on our side. Take care of our girl.”
“I will,” I promise with a firm nod. Although I’m not fond of the affectionate relationship between Angie and her boss, I’m too busy hating myself for not teaching William a lesson.
Once Angie and I are alone, she stands on her tiptoes and throws her arms around my neck. The thin material of her robe does almost nothing to pad her erect nipples, and her wet hair soaks into my shirt. She smells edible, like strawberries. I cut the hug short and back away before my dick gets any ideas.
“I didn’t even realize you were on set,” she admits, her cheeks tinged with pink. “At least your first day on the job was exciting.”
Exciting? Is she fucking kidding? Is this kind of shit normal? Instead of arguing, I grunt. “I decided to stop by early to familiarize myself with your routine.”
The redheaded appears beside Angie, eyeing me up and down while blotting her long hair with a towel. “And who’s this handsome stud?” Her sexy timber during filming is replaced with a thick southern drawl. She’s even more of a knockout up close than onscreen, although it could simply be due to the fact that I just watched her soaping up another hot woman.
“This is the friend from back home I’ve been telling you about,” Angie answers, beaming my way with pride. “Brie, meet my bodyguard-in-training, Asher.”
“You didn’t mention he’s hotter than Hades,” the redhead purrs, holding her hand out. “I’m Brie Swanson, but I’m guessin’ you already knew that.” She tosses me a wink, giggling. “If the gig with Angie doesn’t work out, I’ll hire you in a heartbeat.”
Grunting under my breath, I take her small hand, giving it a light squeeze before letting go. While back home I made a few calls to Dante, taking notes on how private bodyguards are expected to behave. After “don’t get romantically involved with clients,” he stressed the polite angle. So even though I didn’t know this woman’s name until this moment, I tell her, “It’s an honor, Ms. Swanson.”
