by Anna Brooks
He plops down in his chair and rubs his hands over his face. “Ugh. I know. Fuck!”
Polly was busting her ass tonight, and as I was doing my rounds, I noticed a man watching her. Part of protection and bodyguard work is to always look at who’s looking at the person you’re protecting. I’m always aware of my surroundings and of Polly’s. I see it every time we’re together; the looks she gets. She’s hot, and I don’t blame anyone; they can look… not touch.
This guy tonight didn’t do anything until he’d had a few drinks, but when he did, he went all out. He stood directly in front of her, plastered his body against hers, and then grabbed her ass and licked her neck. I realize that she’s beautiful and her body is to die for, and mostly when she’s working, people are respectful, but Brad needs to realize this is a common occurrence. I think he’s still trying to accept the fact that his club is going in a direction he never wanted.
He pushes himself out of the chair. “You’re right. I know it. I just hate that she’s subject to it at all.”
“I know.” When I do go into the field on a protection call, my only requirement is that it’s not a woman. With my past, I don’t want to put myself in a position where I’d overreact. And I could see it happening very easily; plus, the other guys don’t mind one bit.
Brad runs an irritated hand through his hair. “I’ve got some shit going on with my dumbass brother, too, so I’m on edge.”
“What’s up with him?”
A bitter laugh works its way out of him. “What’s not up with him? He’s just a dick. Always starting shit, showing up at my parents’ on Sunday for supper when he knows he’s not supposed to be there since all he does is get in Kenny’s face.”
“Such a prick.”
“Yeah, he really is. And I’m pretty fuckin’ sure he’s tweakin’ or something because he actually hit me up for money today, the fuckin’ asshole. God, I really hate him; he’s such a piece of shit.”
Brad hired me for security at his and Kenny’s wedding. I was responsible for making sure Brad’s dickhead brother didn’t show up and cause a scene since he’s so against them getting married. Or being together, really. I was given a bunch of photos so I’d recognize him, and I’d say Brad’s guess is pretty accurate. In the more recent pictures, his face looks more sunken in and his pupils were dilated more than normal.
“All right. I’m gonna go back out there, okay?” I turn the knob on the door and don’t wait for an answer before I go back to work. Polly smiles at me as she walks by with a tray of drinks, and the nerves I get from being away from her vanish.
The rest of the night is uneventful, and when we arrive back home, we both fall asleep right away. No nightmares wake her up, which is really good. I’m hoping they’ve gone away completely.
When I get up in the morning, my arms are empty. Not liking that feeling, I get out of bed fast and use the bathroom before I throw on a pair of sweats and make my way downstairs.
My feet hit the floor of the kitchen, and I laugh at the sight in front of me. “You look kinda hot in front of the stove.”
She whips her head toward me and sticks her tongue out. “Shut up.”
As I take a seat at the island, I soak in her toned legs and luscious ass. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and there’s a slit of skin showing between the end of her sweatshirt and the top of her itty-bitty shorts. What makes my dick twitch, though, is the little bits of flour or powdered sugar on her thigh and cheek. Makes me wanna lick it off.
“Whatcha making?” If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m afraid history might repeat itself, I’d go over to her, so until she comes to me, I’m keeping my distance.
“Look.” She turns and holds out a stack of pancakes, the smile on her face lighting up the entire room. “I made pancakes.”
“I see that, baby.” When she sets the plate down in front of me, I reach up and grab the back of her head to keep her face close so I can kiss her. “They look great.”
I get up and pour some juice while she gets plates and grabs the syrup. She sits next to me, and with one hand, I dump some maple syrup on my pancakes and use my fork to cut the stack. My other hand rests on her thigh, and I give it a squeeze. “Thanks for making breakfast.”
She tucks some stray hair behind her ear and ducks her head like she’s embarrassed. “You’re welcome. I just hope they turned out okay.”
“I’m sure they’re great.” I eat a forkful, and as soon as I take a bite, raw batter seeps onto my tongue. It takes everything in me to not spit it out and gag. Especially since the bottom is burned, too. Her eyes are wide, waiting for a response. “Mmm.” I give a thumbs up, and she happily squeals.
I’m hoping it’s just mine that aren’t cooked all the way through. It kills me that she’s trying so hard to be a good cook, and it’s clearly not working for her.
Her lips wrap around her fork, and she spits it out before she even gets a chance to fully chew. “Oh, my God, it’s not done all the way! Gross.” With frantic hands, she clears our plates and throws them into the sink.
If it wasn’t for her eyes shining with unshed tears, I’d laugh at the situation. “It’s okay, babe. You’ll figure it out.”
“I followed the directions, so I don’t know what happened.” She turns and leans on the countertop then crosses her arms. “It’s times like these that I wish I would have had a real mom growing up. Did your mom cook?”
“She baked. We had a housekeeper who made our meals, but my mom loved to bake. She tried to teach me, but I’ll be honest; I don’t remember any of it. It never held my focus. I always wanted to be with my dad doing guy stuff.”
“That’s not surprising.” She comes and sits back where she was before, twisting to place her legs between mine. “I had a foster mom for a little bit who was a great cook. She never let me help her in the kitchen, but I remember thinking I wanted to be able to cook like that one day.”
“Why did you have to leave her house?” My heart breaks thinking about her as a kid, not really having anybody, and how lonely that must have been. I didn’t realize how lucky I was to have a loving family until my parents were gone. Growing up, I knew nothing else, so when it was taken from me, it was such a shock that I numbed myself to the loneliness for a long time.
I wasn’t particularly close with my grandparents but not because of anything bad. They didn’t fly, and that, combined with the busy schedule of my parents, meant we didn’t see them often. It was Sophia who was there for me when the reality of my parents’ death hit me. She was the one who was there to reassure me everything would be okay and held me when I was too weak to stand.
Part of the reason I fell in love with her was because she saw me at my worst and helped me through some of the darkest times I’ve ever experienced. I loved her, and I feel like I need to preface my thoughts with that. But I always saw a small part of her as a… a shadow of the past, I guess. She reminded me of what I lost because she helped me get through it.
But Polly gives me a future I thought wasn’t an option anymore. I look at her as a glimpse of what could be, not of what I’ve lost. On top of that, she offers me so much more. More than she’ll ever know. I just hope I’m enough to give her what she needs.
“Honestly?” she asks. “I don’t remember why I left that one. I was in and out of so many places without warning or reason. I learned not to even unpack my suitcase after a while, and as I got older, I’m pretty sure it was because of that. People want to adopt babies, not teenagers, and I understood that. Babies needed more love and care than an older kid, so I always tried to look at it as my leaving gave them an opportunity for a better life.”
I know she doesn’t want pity, but I can’t help the punch to my gut every time she talks about this. I admire her strength so much. After my parents died, I fell the hell apart, yet she’s managed to survive without any—and through circumstances most would crumble under.
“Anyway”—she stands and heads toward the stairs—“let’s go grab som
e edible food. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
Following her up the stairs, I grab her hips and spin her around when we get to the top then swing her over my shoulder. “What are you doing?” She laughs.
I march to the bathroom and set her on the ground then turn the water in the shower on. When it’s warming up, I drop trou and reach past her for my toothbrush. She leans back to grab her own and after we brush our teeth, I step inside the shower. The steam fills the bathroom, and a couple of minutes later, she joins me.
She’s in my arms in a matter of seconds, and we start our day in a way that’s better than eating pancakes… Tastes better, too.
Chapter 16
Polly
Even as the night comes to a close, I’m still upset that I ruined the pancakes this morning. I have never tried to cook before Erik. It wasn’t something I thought I’d need to worry about… ever, let alone in the near future. I always bought prepackaged, premade food, or grabbed some takeout. The thought that I should learn how to cook wasn’t high on my radar—having enough rent money was, though, so a good meal wasn’t even a notch on the priority scale. It’s not like I grew up with it and it was suddenly missing from my life; shit food was my norm.
My feet are sore. I’m still not quite used to being on them so much two days in a row, and I’m relieved when I hear the bartender announce last call. I close out everyone’s tabs and clean up the tables and booths as they clear out.
“Hey, Polly.”
I stand straight with a bunch of empties and face Brad. “Hey, what’s up?” He looks worn out, more than just tired at two thirty in the morning. This week has been extra long, and I think we’re all feeling it.
“I’m having a little meeting with everyone at the bar once the place is cleaned up, so don’t take off, all right?”
My curiosity piques at the irritation in his voice. “Okay. I’m almost done.”
He offers a stiff smile before he grabs some empty glasses from another table and then heads down the stairs. I follow not far behind, and after about twenty minutes pass, the bar is cleaned up and we’re all sitting around on a high top table, most of us with a beer in hand. Erik is behind me, offering his support as a back rest as Brad pulls up a stool across from me.
Manny, Jax, Josh, Damien, and Vince all sit up a little straighter when Brad clears his throat. “So you guys know we’ve had some issues lately in the VIP section.”
The guys all nod, and I look around when they collectively grunt. “What are you talking about?” I wasn’t aware there was a problem in my section. I know Brad had to fill in and play waiter when I was out but other than that, I didn’t think anything was wrong. If anything, I thought it was good that we were so busy.
“Not a fan of these drunk assholes thinking it’s okay to put their hands on you, Polly. I don’t give a shit how much money it’s bringing in; I’m doing something about it.” He glances up at Erik then back to me. “Well, something aside from having a guard dog on you, that is. In order to reserve a booth, I’m requiring down payment from now on. And included in that payment will be an agreement about conduct. If any of the guests in their party act inappropriately, they lose the deposit and get banned.”
A soft murmur of agreements echo in the empty club. I don’t mind the change, although it does come as a shock to me and apparently not to everyone else.
“And it’s not just the entitled pricks who try to touch you, Polly; it’s the broken glasses and the fuckin’ hole in two of my booths from a pair of high heels when they stand to dance on it.”
I’m glad to know he’s not just worried about me. I try to tell him that it’s okay every time it happens, because, for the most part, I am, but the truth is it does make me uncomfortable. I think the only reason I’m even sort of okay about it is because I know Erik’s got my back. And so do all the other guys. But I certainly don’t want Brad to have to change policies because of me.
“Also, I want you to start training behind the bar, Polly.”
I jerk my head in Brad’s direction. “Huh?”
“We talked about it a while ago.”
“Um. Okay.” I didn’t intend for my voice to match my irritation.
“It’s not just because of you, Polly.” Brad sighs. “It is, but there’s also a bigger picture. I’m hoping the deposits will help, but I’d like to have the option to pull you out for a bit if we think it’s needed.”
My spine straightens, and I plaster a fake smile to my face. “’Kay, whatever.”
Erik rubs up and down my arm as Brad continues talking about some changes with the interior that I’m not paying attention to. As he wraps up the meeting, we all head to Brad’s office, grab our personal belongings, and head outside together. Erik’s hand stays steady on my lower back as we make our way to his car, and once we’re in, I put my belt on and cross my legs and arms. “Did you know about this?”
“What?” He glances at me as he’s stopped at a stoplight.
“That Brad wanted to put me behind the bar.”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” I look out my window and bite my tongue.
His hand reaches my thigh, and he gently squeezes it. “You pissed about something?”
“No. I just don’t like people making decisions for me without talking to me about them.”
“There wasn’t anything to discuss with you, Polly. Brad was the one who came up with the idea. I just agreed with him. He needs to do what’s best for his club, and that includes keeping his employees safe.”
“But he didn’t even ask if I—the one who it affects—thought it was something that needed to be changed. ’Cause I don’t think it even does. It’s not that bad.”
“No offense, baby, but it doesn’t really matter what you think. It’s ultimately Brad’s and my decision. I kind of know what I’m talking about here. I’m in charge of security, and you’re not the only person who works there, so don’t jump to conclusions and think you’re the only one who was factored in the changes.”
Instead of answering, I grunt. One thing I promised myself after everything I went through was that I’d never let anyone control my life again. I’d never give anyone the power to make decisions I wanted to make or take away my right to choose.
“Whatever.” Maybe I’m being overdramatic, but it pisses me off. I get that Brad made the decision, but my own fucking boyfriend can’t even say something to me before I have to hear it from my boss? He couldn’t have pulled me aside before tonight? I’m pretty sure if you’re in a relationship, you’re supposed to give the other person a heads up.
“You still bleeding?”
My already seething temper begins to boil. “What?”
“Just trying to figure out if that’s why you’re pissed or not.”
“Even if I was, which I’m not as of this afternoon, that has nothing to do with it.”
He shakes his head. “Whatever you say, Polls.”
“No, not whatever I say. That’s the truth. Why the hell would you ask me that?”
“Because I haven’t been inside your pussy in four days, and it’s starting to make me crazy.”
I choke on my spit and try to hide the desire that sparks in me just from hearing him discuss sex. “Well, I’m not, but I’m still mad you didn’t talk to me, so you’re not getting any regardless.”
He bites his lip and nods. “Sure, baby.”
“Yeah. Sure,” I sass back. I’m such a liar, though. I’ve missed him that way, too. Blowjobs and finger fucks in the shower aren’t the same as his cock.
The silence in his car makes me nervous, especially since his hand isn’t on my leg anymore, but I stick to my guns. He should have told me. As his girlfriend and the woman he’s living with, he should have told me this stuff before.
Maybe it makes me a bitch or jaded or whatever, but I won’t be kept in the dark again. It’s happened so many times that it’s an instantaneous reflex to get defensive about it. Once small things get kept a secret, it only leads to b
igger things, and before it gets too bad, I want to protect myself. After all, if I don’t, nobody else will.
Well, that’s not true anymore. Erik will. I know he will, but by not being assertive, it shows him I’m a doormat, and I will not be walked over again… not even by him.
He pulls into the garage, and I get out before him then go inside. Deciding I want a few minutes to cool off, I step into the shower. I’m not a weak little girl who needs a savior. I’m a grown ass woman in charge of her own damn destiny. Yep, until he apologizes, he ain’t gettin’ any.
I’ve gone years without it before, so I can go a few weeks without it again. He thinks he missed being inside me… but I missed him way more. As I’m scrubbing my body, my hand drifts between my legs, and I drop my loofah. Moisture is already slick between my folds, and as I swirl my finger around, it does nothing but make the ache worse.
A frustrated growl leaves me, and I finish my shower knowing that nothing will satisfy the craving except him, but since I’m asserting myself as an independent woman, I vow to hold my ground.
I step out of the shower, reach for a towel and dry myself off, then I grab a pair of undies and a tank from the walk-in closet. Having my clothes mixed in with his still brings a smile to my face. After brushing my teeth, I take a breath before I open the door to the bedroom. Erik is sitting in his spot on the bed with his laptop on his knees and doesn’t look up when I approach. After I slide under the covers, I glance at his screen. “What the hell?”
“Huh?”
“You’re watching porn?”
He looks over at me and nods. “Yeah. You won’t give it up, so…”
My mouth hangs open, and I turn my back to him and try to block out the noise when he turns the volume up. Heavy panting and women moaning shouldn’t turn me on, but I can’t help it when the muscles in my leg involuntarily make my thighs rub together.
