by Ali Parker
I knew without a doubt it was the latter of the two, but the girl had balls. It would be interesting to see if her looks fit her stunning personality. Spanking her would be fun, but she was hands off. It was better that I not even begin to picture her as someone I could take to bed and teach a few lessons to. I might be a lover instead of a fighter, but in the throes of passion, I demanded obedience. Something told me she would be incredibly fun to snap a collar around.
Pulling up the Internet, I searched for a picture of the Senator and his family. I was surprised to see that only one picture of him with the girl showed up. She had to have been ten in the picture. The pretty smile on her face was filled with innocence, but sadness sat around the edges of her eyes.
"What story do you have to tell, Chloe?" My libido died down as I brushed my thumb over her face. I had to hope that she remained the bitch I imagined her to be. If she was broken and beautiful… fuck me.
I tossed the phone down and pulled on a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a tight black t-shirt with my shit kickers. I looked like I was ready to jump on a hog and run-rule the biggest bad-ass in town. I was... It would be interesting to see what she thought of me.
The pseudo interview would help me make a decision about whether to take the job, but it was more than obvious that her father hadn't given her the chance to have a say in any of it. Was he still treating her like a child? Did she still act like a child?
I picked up the phone and called the picture back up, checking the date.
Eleven years ago.
She was twenty-one and probably had a sense of entitlement all over her. Rich, young and beautiful. The three things I didn't want to get involved in.
"The money's good. The money's good. Just keep telling yourself the money's good."
Since when did I give a shit about money?
Since getting a good taste of it.
Fuck, I hope she's not hot.
Chapter 7
Chloe
The shimmery pink top felt good on me. I was a little apprehensive about having to meet the new guy, but if he could push through the layers of shit I was going to throw his way, I guess he deserved the job. My father wasn't going to relent and though I wanted to keep pushing against his will, it just wouldn't work in my best interest.
I did as I always had when he forced something on me. I pouted and threw a few childish fits and then simply accepted it. The pouting was over and now it was fit throwing time. I smiled and put another layer of sparkly pink lip gloss over my lips as I leaned toward the mirror in the club bathroom.
"So, how much is the bet tonight?" Lyndsay, a semi-friend from my childhood days glanced toward me. I was with her and three other girls from high school, none of them real friends but simply the girls my father approved of me being seen with.
"Three hundred bucks?" Angie tugged at her breasts as a grimace moved across her face. Her short pixie cut looked wrong against her face, but I wasn't going to tell her. She was a bitch on a good day, and I was simply grateful that today was good.
"I'm in," Lyndsay murmured and checked her teeth one more time.
"Wait, what's the bet for?" I glanced toward Angie as confusion rolled over me.
"Oh, right. Miss UCLA here hasn't been home in a year." Angie winked at me and nodded toward Lyndsay. "We started a game about eight months ago. First girl to get laid gets three hundred bucks. We'll each throw in a hundred dollar bill."
Margaret was by the bar with Karen, so I had to assume they didn't play the game. Sex sounded good, but I was rather particular with my choice of men. There was no way in hell I was going to win the bet, seeing that my father had sent a babysitter to watch over me. Unless...
A smile lifted my lips as the other two laughed and began to question me.
“What’s the smile for?” Angie bumped her hip against mine. “You’re thinking naughty thoughts. I’d know that look anywhere.”
Lyndsay chimed in. “Remember in high school when we caught her in the band hall with Darek Mills? She wasn’t even in the band.”
“He was!” I laughed and turned to move out from between them. They were creating a sandwich, and somehow I was the filling.
“He was hot. Remember how he used to flip his hair?” Angie wagged her eyebrows as I turned and put a hand on my hip. I wanted to brag on the size of old Darek’s cock, but I decided to keep the info to myself. Knowing my luck, we’d end up shit-faced drunk and Darek would walk into the bar. The girls in front of me would be sure to bare all.
“Okay, enough of this. Are we all in?” Lyndsay glanced between the two of us.
"I'm in." I turned and walked from the bathroom without hearing Angie’s response. Obviously she was in too. I made a beeline to the bar and tried hard to keep my eyes on my other two friends. No point in checking out the merchandise in the club without getting liquored up properly first.
Karen waved me over and I squeezed in between them, pressing my arms to the bar as the other girls started to chat. “You surviving those two?”
I laughed. “Trying. They’re already coming up with various ways to get into trouble tonight.”
"Trouble is the only way to go." The bartender stopped in front of me, the rough-looking guy more my taste than anything I'd seen on campus. “How about a drink, pretty girl?”
"Trouble works." I glanced up to the liquor display behind him. "Ummm... I'll have a jack and Coke."
"Good choice. First one is on me. You want a tab after that?"
"I doubt I'll need one." I laughed as he chuckled and winked.
He was cute and the tattoo playing peek-a-boo out of the sleeve of his shirt made my heart skip a beat. My father would never allow me to date anyone who looked like they belonged to a motorcycle crew, but damn if I didn't want to spend one night with one of them.
Just to see if the rumors were true. To test out the theory and such, not to mention how fun it would be to trace one or all of his tats with my tongue. I couldn’t help but wonder where they all were and if he moaned during sex.
Jeez. Get laid already.
I had to get my mind off all the wrong things. Tonight really wasn’t the night.
Turning, I watched the door of the club as nervousness rolled in my stomach. I didn't know what I was looking for, but my father had demanded that I tell him what I was wearing that night. The new guy would find me by dad's description if nothing else.
There was a part of me that wanted to change last minute to confuse the brute and blame it on my wayward female hormones, but I stopped myself. I could only push the bitch thing so far.
"So tell us about UCLA. How is the sorority, the classes, the men?" Margaret tugged a long strand of copper hair behind her ear and looked down her nose at me.
"You guys have been to L.A. a million times. It's an eclectic mix of the rich and beautiful and the poor and hot." I laughed and they did too. One of my favorite songs poured from the speakers above us and I grabbed my drink, slipping through them. "That's my jam. I'm out."
I took a long drink of my poison of choice and walked onto the dance floor with the rest of the city it would seem. The club was packed for a Monday night, which made no sense other than it being the first official day of summer. I turned and smiled up at a dark-skinned boy who slipped a hand around my waist and rolled up against me.
He leaned over and brushed his lips by my ear. "You're cute. What's your name?"
I shook my head and smiled. No names being given during the song. I was there to dance. Nothing else. Turning around, I backed up into him and kept dancing. The sea of bodies around us bounced to the music, the rhythm picking up into something a little faster. Energy littered the air as excitement filled me, leaving me more alive than I had been in weeks. I knew I needed to take it easy, or I’d quickly find myself in a situation I might regret.
I let the song finish before glancing over my shoulder and winking at my dance partner. A large guy with thick muscles and a perfect rear turned in front of me and walked toward the
bar. My first thought was to brush by his butt, just to have a chance to touch it, but I realized how whorish I was being. It had been too long since I'd slept with someone. My hormones might not cause me to change my shirt, but they would most likely force me beneath some hot guy by the end of the night.
My friends seemed to notice him too, their stares and ogling almost obnoxious.
"I call dibs." I walked up and nodded to him. There was no way in hell I was letting one of them get to him first. I was confident, but he was hotter than sin in the deep, deep south, which almost unnerved me.
"Oh, hell no." Angie turned on me. "I'm going after him. He’s every wet dream I’ve ever had."
"Nope. I called it." I shrugged. She could puff up all she wanted. I had to see what he looked like, how he danced, what he smelled like. I giggled at the look on her face, which seemed to piss her off further.
I let out a soft gasp as he turned. Tattoos raced across his throat and down his exposed forearms. He had to be covered in them. His eyes were dark, his expression pensive and filled with angst. The tight black t-shirt that stretched across his chest left little to the imagination. He was cut, and I couldn't decide if my fantasies should have me licking the ink trail or the swell of his muscles first.
He glanced toward me as his hair dropped into his eyes. The smirk on his mouth was beautiful, sensual... teasing. A fire started in the pit of my stomach and I knew without a doubt that if he was willing to play, I'd be winning three hundred dollars that night.
A slow, sexy song cued up behind me as if the universe decided to cut me some slack. I could only hope that he was a good dancer. It would speak to his ability to roll his hips in bed, and fuck me like the whore I was going to pretend to be for him. I finished my drink and walked toward him.
His eyes moved down the length of my body as he lifted a beer to his lips.
"I need someone to dance with. This song is too good to ignore. You look like the kind of guy that might be able to keep up, but looks can be deceiving." I smiled and reached for him, not one to shy away from much of anything.
"Do I, now?" He stood and took another sip of his beer before nodding toward the floor. "Lead the way, lady. Let’s see what you’re offering tonight."
His voice was low and husky, the sound of it rushing across exposed skin and sending my nerve endings into a heated frenzy. I walked to the floor, hoping like hell my jeans were tight enough to grab his attention, my shirt not too childish, but simply pretty.
I turned and pushed my thick blond hair over my shoulder, reaching out and sliding one hand over his chest and looping it around the thickness of his neck. Breathing in deeply, I let out a soft moan and moved closer to him as the light played its tricks across us both.
Danger sat on him like a well-worn coat, his expression stripping me naked before I had a chance to offer anything to the handsome stranger. His cologne was light and mixed with the scent of aftershave and soap. I breathed in deeply and stifled a shiver at how violently my body reacted to him.
"I want to see where these tats lead." I brushed my fingers along the one on his neck and stopped at the top of his shirt.
"Do you have any of your own? Any hidden behind your clothes?" He leaned in and brushed his nose by my cheek.
I shivered and took the final step between us, pressing my body against his. Warning signals started going off in my head. I hadn't wanted anyone physically this bad for as long as I could remember. He was just so fucking big and strong. He could protect me far better than someone my father might hire, but had I been given a say in the matter? Hell no.
One night. One night and nothing more.
"No, but I've always wanted one." I smiled up at him and rolled my hips as he shifted his back. I smirked at the thought of him hiding his erection, or worse... maybe he didn't have one.
"I'm not so sure the daughter of a Senator would do well marking up her pretty body. Maybe it’s for the better?" He licked at his lips, still appearing so intensely sensual, and yet his words doused my desire in ice water.
I stiffened and moved back as fear rolled over me. Was he someone I should be afraid of or just a follower of my dad's that recognized me? I approached him, not the other way around.
"Fan of my dad's?" I asked, standing awkwardly in the middle of the floor.
"Soon to be employee. Let's go over there and talk for a minute, Chloe. I'm Ian." He chuckled as heat burned my chest and cheeks. He turned without saying another word and walked back toward the bar before stopping and motioning for me to walk in front of him. I didn’t have words to respond with quite yet, but the scream locked in my mouth would have done the trick if I had let it out.
No fucking way I just hit on my bodyguard. I have to call my dad now. This guy can't get the job. He's hotter than sin.
I'd never survive. Not in a million years.
Chapter 8
Ian
She was far more than I expected, the tight little pink t-shirt hugging her breasts and leaving a little bit of skin showing at her mid-drift. Her bright blue eyes were alive with the need for adventure, her lips thick and so fucking hot. Long blond hair that appeared thick and silky sat on her shoulders. My damn fingers itched to sink into it, pull her head back and make love to her mouth for a few hours before moving on to the rest of her.
I followed her out to the dance floor, taking in the fullness of her long legs and beautiful little ass that filled up her jeans perfectly. She turned to face me and I'd seen that look too many times not to know exactly what she wanted. The girl was looking for a long night of fucking. Too bad it wouldn't be me giving it to her. My cock almost lamented over the fact as it pulsed in my jeans.
I never slept with a woman that I would approach or choose on my own. Too dangerous for my heart. The bitches beneath me were whores at best, and never intended to give me much more than a quick glance over the shoulder as they left after our roll in the sheets.
Never had I been with a younger woman filled with false bravado and innocence. She was a treat. One I wouldn’t be enjoying.
She pressed herself to the front of me and the smell of vanilla mixed with the strong burn of Jack Daniels washed over my senses. I stifled a growl and the desire to pull her closer and run my hands over her curves, memorizing them before I started my assault. I had to keep my hands and my desires on lockdown. This wasn't about a night, or a week of passion, but a job that would pay off my remaining debt and give me a few months to look for the right job instead of jumping to something new that I hated more than the hospital.
I let her play her game for a few minutes before dropping the bomb on the pretty little thing. The expression on her face was priceless and I thought for a minute she might slap me. It was fitting, and wouldn't have been the first time I'd gotten a bit of what I deserved. I should have been upfront with her, but she moved in too quickly, not to mention how badly I wanted to pretend that we were under different circumstances.
Even if we had been… I’d never have allowed her to come home with me. She was far too close to what I yearned for.
"Yeah. Great," she muttered and walked past me to take a sharp turn toward the back of the club. She hit the door with more force than I figured she wanted to show. She was a fit thrower. I would have bet money on it. Pretty little rich girl that got what she wanted, when she wanted and she did the playing, but never got played.
Well, you just did, baby girl.
"Is there some reason you didn't want to tell me who you were before we went to the dance floor?" She spun around, anger sitting on her intriguing features. She was beautiful when she was acting like a sex kitten moments before, but angry and full of passion? Fucking stunning.
"I didn't get a chance, ma'am. My directives tonight were to locate you and talk for a few minutes. You came on to me." I shrugged and glanced around to ensure that we were alone and safe. Standing in the back alley of a downtown club wasn’t the smartest place to have a conversation, but at least I could hear her clearly.
/> "I wasn't coming on to you. I wanted to dance. That's all." She spat her words at me as she crossed her arms over her chest, which only seemed to accentuate her perky tits. They were smaller than I was used to, but I wanted to spend the evening bathing each of them with my tongue until she writhed below me. She had just enough that I could easily cup each one and slide my co-
Stop it. It's not happening.
"That's all you wanted? Not interested in seeing where my tattoos go anymore?" I chuckled and leaned against the wall behind me, slipping my hands into my pockets. My cock was thick and had already worked its way to full attention, but I didn't care if it was apparent or not. She could take the thought home with her and ponder on the size of it for a while.
Her eyes moved down my chest and rested on my hips for a minute before jerking back up as I cleared my throat.
"I like tats. It's that simple really." She shrugged and glanced toward the door. "We've met, so I'm going back inside with my friends. Good luck getting anywhere with a woman tonight. Your cologne is too strong and you need a haircut."
She started for the door and I moved away from the wall, grabbing her and pulling her to me. I shouldn't have, but I never was one for rules. Pressing her to the side of the building, I tilted her face up toward me with a quick push of my thumb to the soft skin of her chin.
"A pretty girl like you should take more care to hit on a man that looks like me. Not all of us are good guys." I rocked against her as she moaned softly, her eyes closing as her fingers dug into my sides. She was all in. It wouldn't take much of anything to get her to strip for me and dance around if I wanted her to. She was ready to do my bidding for a long evening of fighting against the power of my thrusts. "If I take this job, you're going to follow my rules and I'm not your daddy... I won't put up with your shit. I don’t have to. We’re not fucking, nor are we family."
Her expression changed and she jerked from me. I missed her softness almost instantaneously. Anger burned her gaze again and I swear my body lit fully on fire for her. A groan beat against the inside of my chest, but I held my breath, keeping myself barely in check. I could almost feel the silkiness of her hair in my fingers as she worked my cock deep into her throat.
