OBSESSION (Alpha Bodyguards Book 2)

by Sylvia Fox

  “Splendid,” Mick agreed. “Let me put on some clothes and I’ll run you home to get ready for work. If you really feel adamant about it.”

  Ayla had rolled over onto her stomach on the bed, and Mick had been sitting at the foot. When he rose, she marveled at his body, seeing it in daylight for the first time. His cock swung freely, resting on the balls she’d emptied twice, just hours ago.

  “Mick. Come here a moment,” Ayla requested, as she scooted to the edge of the bed.

  He returned to her, shamelessly naked, and she studied him. She traced the scar on his thigh with her finger, and when she reached the inside, his semi-rigid cock pulsed.

  She smiled up at him, dropped down, and took him in her mouth.

  Mick groaned. The visual of Ayla’s beautiful face looking up at him, mouth filled with his manhood, was extraordinary.

  She sucked him slowly, feeling him lengthen and harden on her tongue. When he reached full attention, she bobbed wildly, swirling her tongue everywhere it could reach. Mick struggled to maintain his balance, feeling his body responding to Ayla’s mouth.

  Ayla could taste herself all over his wide cock, and the flavor made her wild with lust.

  Just when Mick felt moments away from release, Ayla stopped, looking up at him with a wicked grin. “I like the idea of you being desperate all day. Thinking about this moment.”

  “Ayla, I’ve been desperate for years.” He placed his hands beneath her arms and lifted her, kissing her deeply. “I lost you once. I’ll never let it happen again.”

  17

  “Looks like another occurrence, Ayla,” a delighted Teri Palermo announced, as Ayla clocked in three minutes late.

  The last minute blowjob would cost her a two-day suspension from work, a fact of which Teri was more than eager to remind Ayla. “You know what that means! Sus. Pen. Sion! Two days. That means two days with no pay. Tsk tsk. I thought you loved your little boy, Ayla. Don’t you want to provide for him? You look like shit, by the way.”

  Ayla had reached her limit.

  “Teri, if being late is an occurrence, and a suspension, what would happen if I told you to go fuck yourself?”

  Teri was stunned, caught completely off-guard. Her mouth moved, but no sounds came out.

  “Good luck finding husband number seven or eight, or whatever it is these days, when you look like the Joker’s twin sister because of all the bad Botox and permanent makeup.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Ayla noticed co-workers peering over the top of their cubicles and around corners, wide-eyed.

  Teri still struggled to compose herself, pointing at the work badge hanging from a lanyard around Ayla’s neck while she mumbled nonsensically.

  “I… you c-can’t… I’ll…”

  “What? This? Here, take it.” Ayla pulled the lanyard over her head and threw it at her manager. “I never want to see you or this building again. And if you ever mention my son again, you better pray you never run into me outside of this building.”

  Two men in blue company security shirts came rushing up, flanking Ayla. “It’s time to go, Ms. Murray,” the smaller one, Angelo, said. He’d always had a smile and wave for Ayla, and she suspected he had a bit of a crush on her. He had a job to do, and she didn’t begrudge him.

  Teri burst into tears amidst muffled applause from the cubicles behind her.

  As Ayla crossed the threshold of the building for the final time, security in tow, Angelo hurried his pace to get near enough to whisper in Ayla’s ear.

  “That was legendary. She deserved every word of it. Sorry you’ll be losing your job. Good luck, Ayla.”

  “Thanks, good luck to you, too,” Ayla said as she distanced herself from the blue shirts and her former place of employment. It wasn’t until she reached her car and drove away that it occurred to her that her outburst, as good as it felt, had cost her the money that paid most of her bills. When she could afford to pay them.

  “Shit!” Ayla exclaimed, banging her steering wheel with both hands. “Not smart, girl.”

  Meanwhile, Mick’s morning had run into an obstacle of its own; his mother.

  After dropping Ayla off and sharing a fantastic kiss, he’d made the call he’d been dreading.

  “Hello, Mum,” he said when she answered her phone.

  “Mickey! You’re in London, then?”

  “Not exactly. I’m still in Las Vegas. Change of plans. You’re going to be visiting me instead.”

  “Well, that’s a load of shite,” Bev Merryweather countered. “I’ll do no such thing. Now stop taking the piss and tell me the truth.”

  “I cashed in my ticket. I bought a new one. You leave first thing in the morning.”

  “Why on Earth would I want to visit that Godforsaken desert?”

  “I hesitate to tell you this, because it’s going to require tact and diplomacy, but there’s somebody here who you need to meet. And he’s not going to be flying to Sheffield anytime soon.” Mick sped past each of the two exits that would make the most sense to get him directly home. He wanted to drive. To get out into the desert and be alone with his thoughts, once his conversation with his mum ended.

  “Then I guess we shan’t be meeting, since I won’t be getting on a plane anytime soon. Does it give you great pleasure to disappoint an old, lonely woman like this?”

  Free from traffic, a straight, open road ahead of him, Mick shut his eyes and stepped on the accelerator. He kept them closed for a beat of his heart, and then a second, before speaking.

  “Mum, I thought you’d be excited to meet your grandson.”

  “Grandson? Hah! If only my only son thought highly enough of me to give me one. That’s a laugh.”

  “I’m serious. His name is Preston. He’s six years old. I’ve only just found out about him. He looks just like Frankie.”

  Silence.

  Followed by an intense wailing from the Sheffield end of the line.

  When Bev Merryweather had composed herself enough to speak, she had a million questions for Mick.

  He assured her that everything was as he suggested, and that he looked forward to seeing her.

  Bev couldn’t get off the phone quickly enough. She had a hair appointment to make and a trip to the department store downtown to make, to buy a new outfit. It’s not every day one becomes a grandmother, and any grandmother worth her salt should look her best for the occasion. Especially one acquainted with the Queen herself.

  18

  After a drive through the winding road of the desert and out toward the mountains, Mick decided he was all in. The euphoria of being with Ayla had started to fade, allowing his logical brain to take control again, but nothing had changed. He was a father, and he intended to dive into the deep end, just as soon as Ayla would let him.

  To show he was serious, Mick took a trip to the bank. Preston was six, and Mick’s involvement had been zero.

  What was a year worth, monetarily? A month? A missed birthday? Christmas? He knew Ayla struggled, he could scarcely believe it when she described her daily schedule to him. He’d been trained to perform on little-to-no sleep, but she took things to another level altogether.

  She worked herself to the bone to provide for her son, and he owed. He knew he did.

  Mick lived a mostly Spartan lifestyle. His car and condo were perks of a job for which he was already extremely well-compensated. He’d invested money earned in his previous careers well, and there’d been insurance settlements when both his brother and father passed away.

  He was left sitting on a small fortune.

  Mick left the bank with an envelope containing a cashier’s check he intended to give to Ayla the next time they were face to face.

  He knew she was at work, but he sent her a text anyway, figuring she’d get it when she took her break.

  “I can’t begin to describe how difficult it was to take you home this morning. Wish I could spend the day with you.”

  Ayla received the text sitting on her sofa staring at, but not
really watching, The Real Housewives of Somewhere-She-Didn’t- Give-a-Shit-About.

  When she’d gotten upset after leaving work, she’d wanted to run straight to Mick. Back into his arms. He’d make her feel safe, let her know everything would be okay.

  But the last thing she wanted to do was dump her crazy into his lap. She worried so much about scaring him away, making him reconsider getting involved with the mixed-up, surviving-on-a-shoestring life she’d created for herself and Preston.

  She wanted to at least appear to sort of, kind of have things under control. A little bit.

  So, Ayla drove home, found half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s chocolate chip she’d bought on sale, and she moped on her couch and tried to come up with a game plan to pay the rent once she received her final check and the payout for the week of vacation she had left.

  She’d resisted becoming a driver for NPE, despite the money being good, since the hours were long and unpredictable. She couldn’t bear the thought of Preston waking up in the morning to a babysitter and going to bed at night with Desiree, while she was out delivering packages.

  She stared at Mick’s text and wondered how to reply.

  He beat her to it.

  “Good news, Mum will be here the day after tomorrow. Had to tell her about Preston to get her to agree to it.”

  Ayla’s mind raced. Her obsession with Mick was overwhelming, but she had to proceed cautiously with Preston. He was at a fragile age and the last thing she wanted was to mess him up.

  Her phone buzzed again.

  “There’s something I need to give you. Can we have dinner tonight? Maybe with Preston? You can just tell him I’m a friend. Let me know.”

  Ayla couldn’t stand it any longer. She replied.

  “Hey Mick, I’d love to have dinner tonight. I got to come home early from work, I’m just hanging out at home now. I left Preston at daycare until later this afternoon. He was excited to see his friends.”

  “Can I come by? I’m out and about. Can be there in fifteen minutes,” he replied.

  Ayla was too excited to see Mick to say no, despite what she considered her haggard appearance and messy house.

  “I can’t wait,” Ayla replied.

  Twenty minutes later, after navigating around an accident on the freeway, Mick pulled into Ayla’s driveway. She’d scrambled to put way Preston’s Matchbox cars and action figures, toss the unfolded laundry into a closet, and load the dishwasher. When the doorbell rang, she was in the middle of changing from the sweats she’d put on after work and into something nicer.

  “Shit!” Ayla abandoned her plans to put herself back together and shimmied into a form-fitting green and white maxi dress. It would have to do.

  Ayla opened the door, and Mick said “Whew! How do you get prettier every time I see you?”

  Waving off the compliment, Ayla blushed and hugged Mick. She gave him a quick tour of her home and they settled on the couch. Ayla’s eyes were drawn to Mick’s rippling forearms. She couldn’t keep her eyes off them. Every last inch of him was sexy.

  “I was thinking about you and Preston,” Mick began. “And how you’ve done this all by yourself. How unfair that is. How hard it’s been. I know nothing can make up for that lost time, for the struggle, but I hope this helps.”

  Mick handed Ayla an envelope with First Nevada Bank’s insignia on the corner.

  “Mick, this isn’t necessary. You didn’t even know—”

  “It’s completely necessary. It’s the least I can do. Absolutely the least. I want the two of you to have… everything. Please, open it. Use it for whatever the two of you need.”

  With shaking hands, Ayla opened the envelope, and saw her name on a cashier’s check. She glanced at Mick and found warmth there, a genuine smile. She turned back to the check, pulling it out far enough to see the amount.

  $100,000.00.

  “Mick…” Ayla’s tears filled in the gaps, but when they were finished hugging and Ayla found her voice again, she told Mick the truth about her morning.

  She couldn’t read him at first when she’d finished the story, but then he threw his head back and laughed.

  “You really did that?”

  “I did,” Ayla affirmed. “I honestly did. Not my best moment.”

  “You’re ruthless!” Mick exclaimed. “That’s my girl!” He high fived her.

  Ayla and Mick drove to her bank together, where her $36.14 balance suddenly ballooned to six figures.

  The first thing she did after catching up on all her utilities and paying the following month’s rent, in full, covering her share and Desiree’s, was to go on-line and purchase a season pass to the largest water park in Las Vegas, Waveworks.

  “Preston is going to lose it,” Ayla told Mick. “We went once last summer, and he’s been begging to go again ever since. We just couldn’t afford it.”

  “Can we go tomorrow? The three of us? I’ve never been. Introduce me as your friend Mick. It might be a fun, zero-pressure way for me to get to know Preston a little bit. Yeah?”

  And I get to stare at you in a swimsuit all day? Ayla thought, at the same moment Mick pondered what Ayla’s gorgeous ass must look like dressed for the pool.

  “That would be amazing,” Ayla agreed.

  For the remainder of the afternoon, Mick and Ayla drove around Las Vegas, chatting about what it was like growing up in Sin City.

  Ayla showed Mick her old schools, the neighborhood library where she won several grade and middle school reading contests, and various other places that held special meaning for her.

  As they drove away from her high school alma mater, Mick broached a subject he knew might be difficult, but he longed to know more.

  “Do your parents still live near here?”

  Ayla was taken aback, but did her best to respond. “As far as I know. Yeah, I think so. But it’s been almost seven years now. I saw my Mom in Target once, from a distance. I hid so she wouldn’t see me. I haven’t seen my Dad except in pictures Amy, my sister, shows me sometimes.”

  “I can’t help but feel responsible,” Mick replied. Ayla began to interject, but Mick was determined to finish his thought. “Please let me explain. It’s just so hard for me to see anyone estranged from their parents, you know? I don’t deny that you have every right to never want to speak to them again. Especially your mom.

  “But I just know how much I miss my dad. And my brother. And how I’d do anything to have one more conversation with either one of them; to hear them laugh again. To hug them. And I’ll never get that chance. Never. No matter what. And despite you having all the reason you do to not want to speak to your parents, and I understand, it’s a two-way street, and they’ve slammed the door in your face, I get all that, just the fact that they live right here, right in this neighborhood, and you could visit with them anytime you want to, but that none of you can make it happen… it’s just heartbreaking. I know it’s none of my business, I just—”

  Ayla had to speak up.

  “Mick, it’s totally ‘your business’. They’re your son’s grandparents. But they’ve chosen this. I never wanted this sort of relationship with them. They picked their own weird ideas of right and wrong over the love of their own daughter and grandson. I spent so many sleepless nights, while I was pregnant, crying, praying, and wishing that they’d change their minds. That I’d wake up and it would have all been some awful nightmare.

  “But it wasn’t. It isn’t. I don’t regret for a second what we did, what we have. Because we have Preston, and he’s basically perfect. The only thing I regret is not getting your name and number that first night. Or giving you mine.”

  Mick lay his hand across Ayla’s lap, and she took it in both of hers.

  “I’m sorry, Ayla. I respect your decision, and I applaud everything you’ve done for Preston and for yourself. You’re a fighter. You’re tough as nails. I just wish things could be different, that’s all. You deserve it.”

  Ayla lifted Mick’s hand to her face and kissed it.
“Thank you. We should head back, I need to get my car, it has Preston’s booster seat in it.”

  They returned to Ayla’s house, where Mick offered to move the booster from Ayla’s car into his SUV.

  After struggling for several minutes, while Ayla stifled a laugh, Ayla expertly installed the seat in front of a dumbfounded Mick Merryweather.

  “I can field strip, clean, and reassemble an assault rifle, pack my own parachute and jump out of a plane, and—”

  “But you’re stymied by a booster seat!” Ayla exclaimed, gleefully. “I’d love to watch you change a diaper.”

  Mick appeared startled. “Wait— we’re beyond diapers now, right?”

  Ayla doubled over in laughter. “Yes. Well past diapers.”

  Mick wiped his brow in relief.

  Ayla and Mick arrived at daycare to pick up Preston, who skipped out into the parking lot and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Mick leaning against his large, black SUV.

  “Wow! I get to ride in that?”

  “Sure do, buckaroo,” Ayla responded. “We put your seat in back and everything. Do you remember Mr. Mick?”

  Preston reached out his fist and bumped Mick’s. “Yep. From the gas station.”

  “That’s right,” Ayla said, strapping Preston into his seat. “He’s our new friend. Is it ok if he comes to dinner with us? And we have a surprise for tomorrow if you eat well.”

  “Cool!” Preston shouted. “Fausto’s?”

  Ayla climbed into the passenger seat and made eye contact with Mick. She shrugged her shoulders, and Mick nodded.

  “Fausto’s it is, big man,” Mick said to Preston. “I’ve never eaten there, is it good?”

  “It’s awesome possum!” Preston yelled, giggling.

  “Preston, we’re right here,” Ayla said. “Turn your volume down, baby.”

  “But this car is so big! I just have to shout!”