Close Protection (Blood Brothers #2)

by Manda Mellett

  “I can hear your mind racing, Mia. What are you so busy thinking about?”

  If this is just a one-time fling, now he’s had me, and he’s satisfied that itch, I need to know; I have to protect myself before I get in too deep. And I want to take that leap; already I know this isn’t just about sex for me, however fantastic that was. Swallowing, I summon up the courage to ask, trying to prepare myself for rejection.

  “What is this between us, Jon? I don’t know how this works.”

  He gives a chuckle, “Neither do I.”

  Pulling out of his grasp, I sit up, braced on my elbows, and look at him concerned. “What do you mean?”

  He sighs, laying back and putting one arm under his head. “I don’t do relationships, Mia. Hey, hush!” He reaches out, his free hand holding me prisoner, “What I’m saying, is that I have no experience of committing myself to one woman. You know the lifestyle I live; my relationships with subs have all been time limited and contractual. But Mia, it isn’t the going to be that way with you. I want more; I want to be your man and your man only.” He sits up and hugs me to him, “I think you’ve bewitched me.”

  I hardly know what to say. This is new ground for to me, too.

  “Right now, I’m not promising you a forever, Mia. We’ve not known each other long enough for that.” He pauses, and covers his heart with my hand, “But for the first time in my life I’ve feelings that go deeper than what you do to my cock.” A cheeky grin now spreads over his face, “Although I happen to love what you do to that particular part of me.”

  I snort a laugh; that’s pretty obvious.

  “I want to be exclusive with you, and I want it all. I won’t see anyone else, and I don’t want you to, either.”

  I immediately think of Diamond and the way she offered herself to him. “Won’t you be disappointing a lot of subs?”

  “Possibly.” He shrugs, being honest. But he doesn’t look like he’s got any regrets.

  I’m lost for words, a wave of intense emotion floods through me. I’m elated and on such a high that I want to make sure I haven’t misunderstood him. “Are we in a relationship, Jon?” I hold my breath as I wait for his answer.

  He gives me a broad smile. “Don’t think I could stop now, even if I wanted to. You alright with that?”

  Am I alright with that? This gorgeous man who makes me feel so good, who makes me feel so safe, so wanted. Yeah, I think I’m just about alright with that. My answer is to initiate a deep long kiss. When we break apart, he leaves the bed, going to the bathroom to dispose of the used condom. Returning to the bed, he manoeuvres me until I’m lying on my side, with him spooned behind me. His arms close around me. Gradually his breathing slows and I find myself mimicking him, then my eyes close, and without meaning to, I drift off to sleep.

  “Hey, babe.”

  I don’t know how long I was dozing, but now he’s nudging me awake.

  “Sweetheart,” he tries again. When I roll over and murmur a protest, he grins at me, “I need feeding, babe. You going to cook, or shall we order in?”

  “Shit!” I jump up having forgotten all about the meal I was going to make for him. I hadn’t gotten very far with the prep, so I decide that another takeaway would be quicker. And besides, I don’t have any energy to cook at the moment.

  He’s laughing at me. “Filthy mouth you’ve got there, sub. I should give you a swat for that, but I have a feeling I won’t be getting fed anytime soon if I give you a spanking now.”

  My face goes red as I remember how turned on I’d been at the club when I felt his bare hand on my backside. I never thought I could enjoy something like that. Then I giggle, admitting that even the memory is starting to get me wet all over again. And he’s probably right. If he carried out his threat that we wouldn’t be leaving the bed for a while, and I’m already a little sore. So I make a rapid change of subject. “Indian, okay with you?”

  He’s still chuckling, as he lies there, butt naked, watching me try to scramble clumsily into my clothes; unused to having an audience. When I eventually get my T-shirt on the right way out, he deigns to start getting dressed himself.

  Relaxed in each other’s company, the evening passes swiftly with a tasty meal from my favourite local takeaway, followed by another memorable bout of lovemaking. All my appetites fully sated, I’m so tired that it takes no time at all after I get back to bed before I fall into a dreamless sleep.

  ****

  Monday mornings are typically dreary, but when I wake alone and hear the sounds of the shower running, a big sloppy grin comes to my face. It’s not just the start of a new week; it’s the beginning of a new life. I’ve had a man in my bed, and I enjoyed it. And he’s sticking around. I stretch, wincing at the soreness in muscles unaccustomed from such exercise the night before. The grin’s still there when he leaves the bathroom and comes into the bedroom. He’s already fully clothed.

  Coming across to the bed, he kisses me. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

  “Fine,” I answer him. Then expand, “Great!”

  He gives me a critical look, assessing me, and then nods and smiles. “Get dressed, and then I want to talk.” With that, he leaves me, and I hear him going downstairs.

  Uh oh. That sounds ominous. I try to shake off a sudden burst of apprehension but shower and dress as quickly as possible. When I get down to the kitchen, he’s just dishing up scrambled eggs and toast, and to top it off he’s made coffee.

  “Need to keep your strength up.” He smirks as places a piled plate in front of me. As he leans over to steal another kiss, the gentle expression on his face reassures me.

  I laugh. “I could get used to this.” Then, as I take a mouthful of the perfectly cooked breakfast, I’m unable to suppress a moan. I take another and glance over to see he’s still standing by the cooker. “You said you wanted to talk, you haven’t had second thoughts, have you?” I put my fork down, as worry returns.

  “Not about us, Mia. No.” The words, accompanied by an intense look, compel me to believe him. He seats himself. “I just want to get things agreed up front. I’m a Dom, I can’t help that, it’s the way I’m wired. If I’ve spent time with someone in the past, we’ve usually had a contract agreed so we both know the expectations.”

  His words worry me; I know about contracts. And they usually have an end date. Is he going to ask me to sign one?

  As if he knows what I’m thinking, he gives a quick shake of his head. “No, Mia. I don’t want to have a contract with you. For the first time in my life, I just want to take things as they come. But I do want to get some things straight.” He pauses to take a mouthful of eggs, washing it down with coffee before continuing. “I need control in the bedroom and the club, but I don’t want a slave, so we’ll be mostly equals outside of anything to do with sex.” Another bite of his breakfast, then he carries on, “I don’t want to tell you how to dress, how to act or what to do.” He throws a sideways glance at me before he continues, “But I do want to take care of you, and that means I’ll be looking out for your best interests. So sometimes I might break those rules, but only for your own good.”

  I smile, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong in what he’s saying. From what I’ve already seen, I’ve no objections to him being in charge in bed. Heck, I wouldn’t have a clue what to do. We’d end up lying there like two logs if he waited for me to initiate anything. I decide to be cheeky.

  “If you break the rules, Jon, do I get to punish you?”

  He snorts a laugh and shakes his head, “I’m sorry, it doesn’t work that way, pet.” He puts more scrambled egg into his mouth, chews and then swallows, “Communication is key to our relationship, though, and you have to promise to speak to me, to tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable. I know what you need, Mia. Sometimes you might think I’m pushing you, but I’m only trying to stretch your boundaries, to explore something new. You’re mine. You belong to me.”

  “Does that go both ways, Jon? Do you belong to me?”

>   He rubs a hand through his hair, and smiles ruefully, “Oh babe, if only you knew. You captivated me from the first day; I’ve been yours ever since I saw you.” Then, his demeanour changes slightly.

  Tilting my head to one side I look at him, and see he’s looking a bit on edge which makes me suspicious. “What’s up, Jon?”

  “I’m going to push you today, Mia, and this comes under the heading of me caring for you, and doing what’s best for you.” His brief pause suggests it’s something I’m not going to like. Inhaling deeply, he tells me, “I’ve made an appointment for you to see a doctor.” He holds up his hand to stop me interrupting. “She’s a good friend of mine and does a lot of testing for the club. She runs a private clinic. I rang earlier this morning.”

  All at once, my pleasure in the day disappears, and my hands start shaking. Going to a doctor is a hard limit for me. “No. I don’t need to go, and I won’t.” I make my refusal adamantly.

  “Mia, sweetheart,” he comes over and kneels in front of me, brushing my hair out of my face. “You’ve never seen a doctor, have you? Fuck knows what those bastards did to you, but it’s time you found out.” His touch, the way he’s rubbing his thumbs over the back of my hands is calming, and the shaking lessens. “There are other reasons too. Firstly, you need to get tested if you’re going to play in the club; I stretched the rules for you last time, but I don’t want to do that again. And lastly, there’s a selfish reason. I’ve never had an exclusive relationship before; I’ve never taken anyone without a condom, never felt my cock inside a woman skin to skin. But I’d like that with you. I’d like that very much.” Squeezing my hands he stares into my eyes, waiting for my reaction.

  I put two and two together fast, “Are you asking me to go on the pill?” I break in. Goosebumps breaking out all over me as my nerves take hold, “Jon, I don’t mind that, but I don’t want to go to a doctor…”

  Leaning forwards he presses his forehead to mine. His voice deepens, “I want my cock inside you shooting my cum up into your sweet cunt with no barriers, I want to see my spunk running out, mingling with the juices from your pussy. I want to feel you, with no barriers between us.”

  His dirty words are turning me on. None of his words upset me; that voice he uses makes me realise that’s what I want too. To feel him, every part of him. But to do go on the pill, I’ve got to consent to an internal exam. Bastard, he’s tempting me.

  “So the doctor’s appointment is for you?”

  He looks a little sheepish and shrugs again. A smile slowly appears, “I admit I'm a bit selfish. I don’t want to use condoms with you. But you need to get checked out; that’s the most important thing.” Leaving me, he goes back to the counter, picks up his by now cold cup of coffee, and drains it in one go. His face grows serious. “You need to have the full range of tests if you’re going to come back to the club. We can’t use the private rooms unless you do. I thought it would take a couple of weeks to get the appointment, but a friend of mine who’s a doctor had a cancellation today, and as I called so early, I was able to take it.”

  Now sweat starts pouring off my brow; my hands grow clammy. The thought of a stranger examining there is terrifying. He’s right; he’s pushing me. And it’s a step too far. He’ll have to cancel. “Jon,” I hesitate, wondering how to tell him, then just blurt it out. “I’m scared of having an examination.”

  I hear him let his breath out; it whistles through his teeth. He gets up, taking his empty plate and mine. “It’s well past time you got checked out, sweetheart.” He opens the dishwasher and begins to stack the dirty plates inside.

  “But…” I begin.

  He comes over to me, raising my head so I’m looking up at him. “No arguments. Mia, she’s a decent woman, she’ll understand and be careful with you. I’ll make sure of it; I’ll be with you, I promise. But this is something for your good, which you have to do. I have to push you. Do this for me, Mia.” He uses that voice that makes my insides curl, the tone I have no defence for.

  Chapter 19

  Jon

  Three years ago

  After parking the SUV behind the pension, I grab my bags from the back seat and walk in. Registration was a brief formality thanks to the numerous times I’d stayed here. After that, I made my way to my normal room, removed my shoes, jacket and holster and settled on the bed. Nijad didn’t need me today, so able to relax I close my eyes; after the early start and long journey the chance to have a nap is welcome.

  I couldn’t have slept long before I was woken abruptly by an alarm going off on my phone. Immediately on fully alert I jumped up, swiped the screen, putting my fingertip on the home key for identification. The security app came up—someone had set off the alarm at Nijad’s apartment. FUCK IT! I should have ignored his orders and stayed close to him.

  Setting a new world record I stepped back into my shoes, strapped on my holster, flung on my jacket to cover my gun and exited through the door in one seamless move. It was quicker to run the single block to Nijad’s apartment than to take the car, so I was there in little more than a few minutes. I’d been trying to call him on the way, over and over, but every time it just rang through to voicemail. I was growing increasingly worried that I wasn’t getting an answer, and my concern in no way lessened when I arrived at his apartment block horrified to see two ambulances and three police cars had beaten me to it. What the fuck was going on?

  I raced inside and took the lift to the fifth floor, impatiently pushing the buttons hard as if that would make it rise faster. At the entrance to the Sheikh’s home, two gendarmes stood guarding the door, one unsuccessfully trying to turn off the blaring alarm. After I had identified myself and shown my credentials, I quickly disarmed the system, and silence reigned. Finally, I was let in to find the person I was supposed to be protecting lying unconscious on the floor; one paramedic is checking his vitals, while another was preparing a stretcher to take him down to street level. Another pair of medics were treating a woman who I recognised as the Sheikh's girlfriend, Chantelle. Someone had viciously attacked her; her face was a mess, her eyes already blackening, one arm looked like it might have been broken and the other hugged across her ribs. The way she was holding herself suggested she’d taken blows to her torso as well.

  As she was at least conscious, my first thought was for Nijad, anxious to know how badly injured he was. I started to go over to him but a man, who I assumed to be the detective in charge, moved in front of me to stop me.

  “What happened?” I asked even though it was obvious there had been a break-in, and I was full of guilt that I hadn’t been stood right outside the door on guard to prevent it.

  But when the detective spoke, he stunned me as he indicated Nijad, lying unconscious behind him. “That’s your employer?” I noticed the curious emphasis he put on the word employer as if he couldn’t bring himself to refer to the man by name. The look on his face was one of disgust, and I got a dreadful sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I nodded in answer to his question and raised my eyebrows asking a silent one of my own.

  “Your employer, that bastard over there,” he waved his hand behind him again. “It would appear he is responsible for the woman’s injuries. If she hadn’t had managed to grab the lamp and crack him over the head, we might have had a murder on our hands. It was a nasty attack.”

  “She said Nijad did this to her?” My mouth dropped open. “But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.”

  The detective shook his head. “The woman is quite definite in her statement. And looking around, all the visible evidence points towards that as the most plausible explanation.”

  I narrowed my eyes, unable to believe it. Nijad would never do hurt a woman. “You’ll be securing the flat, and examining the forensic evidence; I take it? There are security cameras…”

  He stopped me there. “Let me assure you I’ve done this job a long time. We’ll do a full investigation. But there are no security tapes. The system wasn’t alarmed.”

  “But the
alarm was sounding…”

  “We set it off when we arrived. It was all quiet when we got here. We were only alerted when the woman called for help.”

  That would explain why the police had had time to get here before me. But why? Why was Nijad so lax as to not arm the system? A hideous thought came into my mind, but I suppressed it. No, it couldn’t be true. Shaking my head, I told him again, “The woman must be lying. Nijad is not capable of something like this.”

  Present day

  I know she’s not at all keen, but it’s imperative that she gets checked out as she’s not been to a doctor since her attack. Who knows what damage might have been done as a result of her savage and repeated rapes? Using my most authoritative voice, I let her know there’ll be no further discussion, merely that the appointment is at eleven o’clock. The pain and hurt in her eyes are clear to see as if I’ve betrayed her. She’s gone so pale, the only thing I can do is take her in my arms and hold her close.

  “You have to do this, Mia; you know that, don’t you?” I try to turn her to face me, but defiantly she keeps her head turned down. “I was lucky Mary Broker had a cancellation this morning. If we don’t take this appointment, you might be waiting for weeks. And the wait will only make the anticipation worse.”

  I feel the point when she gives in; her body relaxes with an air of defeat. She isn’t enamoured by the arrangements but has to know it’s a sensible step. Her voice betrays her nerves, “Will you come to the doctor’s with me, Jon?”

  “I’ll be with you,” I confirm. Mary’s not only an old friend but a doctor in the lifestyle, and won’t turn a hair when I wish to stay with her for the full examination.

  By the time I’ve finished clearing up after breakfast, it’s time to get moving. Mia hardly speaks in the car, and my attempts at conversation go to waste, so I make do with holding her hand and giving her squeezes of reassurance. I appreciate how difficult this is for her; being touched by any stranger is invasive, even if it is a female doctor. And in any event, I doubt I’d know anyone who would say they enjoy an intimate examination. When we arrive at the private clinic, Mia is visibly shaking as we take a seat in the waiting room, and her hand feels clammy. Luckily the timing worked out well, and we arrive so close to her appointment that she’s called through almost the minute we sit down. Her palpable fear causes me pain; I hate knowing I’m upsetting her so much, but I sincerely believe it’s more than time for her to be checked out. And I doubt she would ever have gone on her own.