by Dani René
When I pull up to the three-story mansion, I find four security guards dressed in black suits with white shirts parked off doing fuck-all. They all look like they’re on vacation instead of protecting my girl’s home.
“Callan O’Leary here to see Mr. Parker,” I inform one of the suits who crooks his finger for me to step closer. He frisks my shoulders, back, and around my waist. He rises to full height, still measuring in a few inches shorter than me.
“You’re clear,” he grumbles in the mic sitting on the side of his head. He steps aside, allowing me to walk my bike down the drive.
The house is enormous. Granted, we did have a manor house in England, and this could easily pass for the same. The gardens are perfectly manicured, with blossoms of roses, jasmine, azalea bushes, patchouli, and even weeping cherry line the drive. Everything is too beautiful on the outside, which makes me smile because I know what sordid little lies are hidden on the inside.
There’s no one else around besides the security I met at the gate a few hundred feet down. A creak of wood sounds behind me, causing me to turn around. There in the doorway is Mr. Magnus Parker. The US Senator for five years running.
“Mr. O’Leary,” he smirks, his expensive suit tailored to fit his short, pudgy frame.
“That would be me,” I tell him, my accent thick, gravelly.
He steps closer, gripping my hand firmly as he shakes it. His eyes, the color of coal, watch me with a wariness I always get when I’m around strangers. I may be the villain in most respects, but I never fucking hide it.
“Come,” he says, leading me into the house where I’m sure he not only lives but works too, and possibly even hides whatever vile secrets politicians hide. The interior is everything I pictured — pristine, cream walls with vintage artwork hanging down the hallways we silently veer along to reach his office.
Each piece of furniture looks like it belongs in an old Scottish castle rather than in the modern home of a US Senator. He doesn’t speak, merely ambles along ahead of me as if he’s the goddamn president. Only standing at five feet nine, he’s shorter than me, but there’s a commanding aura about the man.
I follow him into what I’m guessing is his office.
“Please, take a seat,” he tells me as he makes his way around the ornate cherry wood desk. It’s large, taking over most of the space. The room itself reminds me of my father’s office, dark and dreary. Most of the older men in politics and organized crime think it comes across as foreboding. Me, I think they’re all just fucking around trying to be scary when they’re actually more shit-scared of the younger generation taking over.
“I understand you’re looking for a man who can act as security as well as chauffeur?” I question, watching him settle into his expensive seat. The onyx leather creaks as his heavy frame fills the space.
He regards me through narrowed cocoa eyes. Lifting his hands, he steeples them before him, heightening his chin somewhat. Even with the added height, the flabby, wrinkled skin still hangs from his face.
“I want someone reliable who can watch her. She’s running rogue with these girls she’s been friends with, and it’s tarnishing my reputation. Oliver told me you’re the best in the business, and I trust him.” His voice is filled with frustration, almost as if Madison was a teenager heading out to clubs and getting pregnant. No, she’s not that at all. She’s so far removed from that life, and I don’t think her father even knows what a good girl he has. And he knows exactly who Amber is. This feined concern is bullshit.
Judgment is never easy to come to terms with. Especially when it comes from family. From those you love the most. It sucks you dry, moment by soul destroying moment.
Tipping my head to the side, I watch him for a minute before leaning forward. My elbows hit my knees as I steady myself. I’m tempted to knock the fucker out. He knows nothing about his daughter, but there he sits, acting as if he’s the best father in the world when I know his concerns about Amber are bullshit. He’s not worried about her influence on his daughter, and I know why.
“And what makes you think she’s in need of someone like that?”
“There’s talk of her attending a club downtown that’s got me concerned. I trust that with your background, you can both keep an eye on her as well as find out what it is she’s up to when she goes there. Her friends are a bad influence on her.”
He stares at me hard then, and I know there’s something he’s not telling me. The tension in his shoulders and the curve of his pursed lips hold secrets he’s not divulging to me. And that’s not how this works.
Nodding, I confirm, “I can do that. However, I need honesty. I’m not talking about telling me the shit you think is going on. I don’t work well under a ruse.” I rise, stalking over to the windows to the right of his desk. They overlook the vast gardens of his property. From here, the city sits quietly in the distance, alive with promise.
“Look, Madison is my baby girl. She’s young, impressionable and . . .” His voice trails off into nothing, causing me to turn to him. “Her friends are rather risqué. I’m concerned about her safety, and I know you’d be the man to keep her out of harm’s way.”
“I can certainly do that, but I’m not a babysitter. If she wants to go shopping with friends, I’m not one to stop her.” I chuckle, earning me a glare, but I don’t give a shit.
“Also, I’d like her to find time for Hudson. He’s a good boy. One of my best. She’s been rather standoffish toward him, and I’m concerned.” He’s actually telling me to play fucking matchmaker. That’s definitely way outside my paygrade.
“Listen to me, Mr. Parker,” I order, making my way to the desk. Placing both palms flat on the cool wooden surface, I lean in, meeting his brown eyes. “Your daughter will be under my care. I’ll watch her, keep her safe, and ensure nothing bad happens to her. I’ll drive her wherever she needs to go, but make no mistake, I’m not here to play matchmaker.” But I will fuck her tight body until she’s broken, I add in my mind.
“That’s fine, but I want to remind you she’s precious to me. But I like your confidence, Mr. O’Leary,” he smirks, sitting back like a king on his throne. “You start tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to Madi in the morning. Be here at nine, sharp. I have meetings all day, and you’ll have to drive her around, be her shadow.” He reaches out a hand to me, which I grab. We shake on the agreement. Once I release his hand, I step back, allowing him to rise. “This is your contract,” he says, tossing a thick folder on the desk before me. “Read it, sign it, bring it along tomorrow, and we’ll get you set up with one of the SUVs.”
“You won’t be sorry,” I inform him.
“I know. I’ve looked into your background after being referred by Oliver Michaelson. I know you’re good at what you do, and I trust you’ll look after my daughter.”
“Always.” I offer him a nod before grabbing my contract and heading out the door. I’m escorted by two suits toward the exit. Once outside, I can’t help smirking. I’ve landed the job, which was all part of the plan.
I’ll be right beside little Madi all day, every day.
* * *
Two hours later, when I walk into Sins, I find Mason and Rick sitting at one of the booths with mugs of coffee and paperwork strewn all over the table. It looks like they’re deep in conversation when I stroll over to them.
I read through the contract twice to make sure that every T was crossed and every I was dotted. There’s something about accomplishing something that you’ve been planning for months. Since I first saw Madison here six months ago, I knew I had to have her. A normal man would just go up to her and ask her on a date, but I’m not a normal man.
I’m far from it.
I prefer the chase, the taunting and teasing.
And when I finally catch my prey, I devour them.
Pulling up a chair, I spin it and straddle the seat, leaning my elbows on the back. “What’s happening in here?” I question, meeting my brother’s gaze.
“We’re discussi
ng the possibility of a new recruit.”
“Oh?” I lean forward, grabbing my brother’s tumbler, which is already swirling with amber liquid. “And what exactly does this job entail?”
“Security. You interested, brother?” Rick questions, glancing at me curiously.
“Me? I actually just signed a contract for a new job. I’ll be security detail.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s it with?” Mason questions, opening one of the manila folders on the table.
“Senator Parker actually,” I tell them.
My brother’s gaze snaps to me with confusion dancing in his gold eyes. “What?”
“Yeah, he needs a new driver-slash-bodyguard for his precious little girl.” I chuckle.
Carrick groans. Sitting back, he regards me, narrowing his eyes into taunting slits. “You planned it. Didn’t you?”
I don’t respond. Instead, I shrug and glance at Mason. “So, what’s that?” I ask, gesturing to the folder with my chin.
He hands it to me and I flip through the basic requirements. The standard details seem easy enough, but I notice the times and finer details will need to be changed. “Your brother said you’re good with security detail. You’ve done this before, and I trust that since you are family, you’ll be happy to work here. We just need you in the evenings. I’m sure your new boss won’t have you working twenty-four seven.”
“I’m sure that will be fine. When do you leave?” I question my brother.
“Next week. Flights are booked.”
I take in my brother’s expression, and I see the happiness on his face. I haven’t seen him this happy in years, but Peyton has been good for him. “I’ll make sure I’m around when I’m needed,” I tell him.
“Great. You can start work on Wednesday.” My brother’s best friend informs me, holding out his hand. My eyes drift between him and Rick.
“Take it. That means you’ll be able to keep an eye on Leigh as well as your little dolly,” Carrick taunts me. I used to call my teenage girlfriend Dolly because she was as pretty as one. “I’ve decided to take Peyton to Europe. We’ll probably head over to see Dad as well.”
“You’re going to London?” My question comes out filled with shock. I never pictured my brother ever returning to the place he walked out of. It’s been years, and he never looked back. But knowing he’s taking Peyton there, that’s more shocking than anything. Not because she doesn’t deserve to see where we grew up, but when Dad sees her, he’ll lose his shit.
She looks just like Rick’s ex-fiancée who was killed at my sister’s wedding over nine years ago now.
“You want me to babysit Cayleigh? You do realize she’s going to give me the slip as soon as she can.” My little sister is a little firecracker. She’s been like that since she was a teenager. There’s never been a time that I knew my sister not to be in trouble with our parents.
Sadly, losing mom was difficult for her, and that’s when she really went off the rails. Carrick and I had to step in and be the older brothers who put our foot down. Since then, she’s slowly calmed down. Her partying has dwindled into nothing, and I wonder if being here will turn her into the party girl from her younger years.
“I just need you to watch over her. Also, we need someone we can trust in the club. Since Mason will be on his own, I’d much prefer you being here with him. This is yours as much as it is mine, brother,” Rick tells me.
“Fine, I’ll be here for her and for the club. Thank you for thinking of me. Us working together again will be a challenge.” I chuckle, slapping Rick on the shoulder.
His smirk is enough to tell me he’s happy with the choice. It’s been a long time since the O’Leary brothers were together.
“Tell me, why Anderson?” I question. My brother changed his last name when he moved here. I know deep down he hated where he came from, the life he was forced to live, and when he lost Aurora, it shattered everything he believed in.
He shrugs. “It was easy. I needed something that wouldn’t tie me to home.”
“You mean to the mob,” I tease, winking as I rise. Pushing the chair to the side, I pull out my smokes and lighter. “I’m heading out. I’ll be by tomorrow to sign the contract.”
“Great. Mason will get it ready for you, and you’ll officially be staff of Seven Sins,” Carrick tells me with a smile. “And remember, no fighting. Just keep the peace while I’m gone.”
“Peace? With Leigh? You know she’s worse than a kid on a candy high,” I retort, earning myself a chuckle. It’s true though, and Carrick knows it. I pull out my phone, tapping out a message to my new toy, telling her I can’t wait to see her. However, I don’t tell her I’ll be her new bodyguard. That’s a surprise I want to spring on her while I’m staring into those honey-colored eyes.
“Just watch out for her.”
“I’ll catch you later, I have to make plans for tonight. I have a flower to pick, and I can’t wait to inhale those sweet petals,” I tell them, turning to leave.
Carrick calls out to me before I make my way toward the exit. “Stay away from Madison Parker.” I don’t respond. Instead, I head out into the warm afternoon sunshine. My brother knows me too well. Anytime he’s told me not to do something, I’ve made sure to do exactly that. This time it will be no different.
Madison
It’s almost time. I don’t see him, but he may be in the back somewhere. When he told me to meet him in Sins, I knew tonight he’d finally take me. Give me what I want and need.
To say I’m nervous is an understatement. With each person who walks in, my heart leaps into my throat. Tonight, I’ll ask Callan to take me to the back room, any of them, and make good on his promises. All those filthy words he spewed, I want them. I ache for them.
Two men stalk into the club with a beautiful blonde girl between them. She looks like she’s my age, perhaps a year or two younger, which would put her just at legal age. My twenty-one years makes me prime meat in this place.
I note that most of the Dominants who are in here have a younger girl on their arm. Or sitting on their laps. The lights in the club dim, and a beautiful woman steps up onto the stage. She’s exquisite with her long, dark hair and curvaceous body wrapped in a deep blue dress.
I watch her as she introduces Mason and Savannah. One of the owners of Seven Sins along with his beautiful submissive Savvie perform rope scenes on stage which have always intrigued me, and I wonder what it would feel like to be suspended like that. But even though my gaze is locked on them, all I can think about is seeing him.
I’ve never been this nervous before because it’s always been Hudson. The rather mechanical man who my father is convinced is perfect for me. When he first kissed me, I felt the chill in the way his lips touched mine, and I knew there’d never be passion between us.
It’s been far too long since I’ve felt a rush of danger. Adrenaline coursing through my veins. And sadly, it’s been a long time since I’ve ever wanted to be kissed by someone, or even touched.
Not those gentle caresses that some girl’s dream about. I’m talking about a rough, manhandled grip. As if he’s trying to tell you he owns you with a simple touch. I’ve been thinking about Callan all night, all day. Even with Amber rambling on about the dresses she was trying on, it was him on my mind.
I know this isn’t a date. I doubt he’s ever been on one.
He’s not the type.
I rise slowly, lifting my empty glass, and head to the bar. I can’t sit still anymore. Every moment that passes makes me more anxious. It’s as if I’m undercover and I’m waiting on my mark to arrive.
My eyes flit over the crowd once more after I’ve ordered my drink, seeking him out, but I feel his gaze on me before I find him. He’s behind me in an instant. He leans in, allowing his lips to feather across my cheek.
“Hello, Blossom,” he murmurs in a low gravelly tone that wraps itself around me.
“Callan,” I breathe his name. He plants a kiss on my cheek then spins me around. Coming face to face with
him is like being electrocuted. He’s rough everywhere. Dark stubble dusts his jaw. Those eyes, deep and feral, root me to the spot. Thick, black lashes frame his midnight-blue eyes, and his lips purse into a grin that both scares me and turns me on.
“I didn’t think you’d make it,” he states. There’s a satisfied smirk on his face, and I wonder if he’s enjoying this. Our banter, teasing, whatever you want to call it.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He shakes his head. “Thought you’d be too scared of me.”
“I’m not some innocent little girl, Callan. I told you, I’m not scared of anything.” My retort earns me a sexy chuckle. “What?” I question his curious gaze.
“Nothing,” he says, turning to the barman, offering him a grin. “D, get me a Jameson. Make it a double.” The young man behind the bar nods and busies himself getting the drink, but I note the glimpses he shoots our way.
I want to say something to Callan, anything, but my tongue feels heavy. My stomach has a flurry of butterflies awakening from a long slumber, and my heart is no longer beating a regular rhythm.
Once we have our drinks, Callan places his hand at the base of my spine and ushers me down a long hallway.
“Are we going to—”
“Tell me, Madison,” he interrupts me without so much as a blink. He shoves a black door open, and we find ourselves in a decadent room with a large bed decked in sheets the color of Merlot. Black leather and silver metal furnish the space. It should be scary, but it’s not, and I find myself intrigued more than fearful. “Why did you come to me outside the club? And don’t tell me it’s because you wanted a ride.”
A blush heats my cheeks, traveling down my neck, but he can’t see it because I’m looking at the instruments hanging against the wall. Two leather cuffs are attached to what I know to be a St. Andrews Cross. My eyes drop to my chest, and with the low-cut dress I’m wearing, it does nothing to hide the flush on my skin.
