Vanguard Security

by S. J. Bishop

  “You mean…?” He hesitated to take the offering.

  “Go ahead, Cassandra, take off the anklet.”

  With a bright smile on my face, I grabbed the key from his other hand, bent down, and took off Emil’s ankle monitor.

  He moved his foot as if in disbelief.

  Despite his injury, Cruz had insisted that Emil continue to wear the monitor until he could prove himself. The time had finally arrived.

  I smiled up at him.

  In reaction, Emil took me into his arms and spun me around and around, happiness painted all over his face.

  “I’m so proud of you, baby…” I said.

  His smile intensified before he leaned down to kiss me. It didn’t take long for it to grow hot and passionate, our tongues tangling together.

  “Ahem,” Cruz cleared his throat behind us. “A little decency would be nice.”

  We pulled away, blushing hard. “Sorry, boss,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “I guess we got a little carried away.”

  He nodded. “Your assignments will be ready for you on Monday.”

  “Yes, sir.” Emil nodded. “I won’t let you down.”

  “I know you won’t.” He winked. “Besides, I know Cassandra will keep you in line.”

  Emil chuckled. “You’re right about that one. You know, she made me wait three months –”

  I jabbed my elbow into his side.

  “Ow! What was that for?”

  I glared at him, my finger pressed against my lips to signify that he should be quiet.

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, I should probably get her situated before she breaks the window,” Cruz said with a sigh.

  “What’s going to happen to her?” Emil asked, his arm wrapped around my waist. “You aren’t just going throw her in jail, are you?”

  “No. We are going to try to get her some help.”

  Emil nodded.

  “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

  When we got home, Kimmy ran right into my arms. “Mommy!” She nuzzled her face into my shoulder. “You’re home!”

  “Yes, I am.” I laughed, ruffling her head.

  She looked up. “Hi, Emil.”

  “Hey, Kimmy. What are you still doing up? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

  “But it’s Saturday! Sally said I could stay up a little longer…” she protested.

  “It’s alright. Emil’s just giving you a hard time, honey,” I explained before handing her off and paying the babysitter. By the time I was done, Emil and Kimmy had disappeared into her room.

  Already, he was reading her a bedtime story, giving each character their own unique voice and acting out certain parts until Kimmy curled up into a fit of giggles.

  I watched from the doorway, a smile on my face. I was so grateful that they were able to get along so well. I should have known from the start that Emil had a heart of gold.

  “Mommy! Join us!” Kimmy called out.

  I laughed. “But Emil is doing so well without me.”

  “But it’s the part about the princess next.”

  Knowing I couldn’t deny her puppy dog eyes, I sat down on her mattress, peering over Emil’s shoulder.

  “And then the princess woke from her deep slumber,” Emil announced in his narrator's voice.

  I took over. “When she opened her eyes, she saw the most handsome prince in all the land. She fell in love, her heart beating fast.” As I spoke, I couldn’t help but look at Emil. We weren’t the perfect fairy tale, but he was definitely my knight in shining armor.

  29

  Emil

  Kimmy was soon fast asleep, cuddled into her stuffed animal, a sweet smile on her face. Cassandra leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

  Together, we left the room, turning off the light.

  In the hallway, I took Cassandra by the hips and pressed her against the wall. “Did you mean what you said in there?”

  “Hmm?” she asked, playing innocent.

  “About us.” My hands were already roaming her body, taking in her every curve.

  God, she was perfect.

  “Oh, you mean about us being prince and princess?”

  I nodded. “Did you just say that for Kimmy’s sake, or is there really something here?”

  “Do you really need to ask?” she whispered, taking my cheeks in her hands, our foreheads pressed together. “You know I love you. Why do you always act like I’m going to disappear?”

  “Because that’s one of my biggest fears,” I admitted. “I don’t deserve someone like you. I’m scared that one day, you’ll figure that out and want to leave.”

  She shook her head. “Are you kidding?” She pulled me even closer, our lips nearly touching. “I love you. I wouldn’t even dream of leaving. You’re the only man for me, Emil.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Now, stop acting so worried. You’re stuck with me.”

  Before I could say anything, she closed the distance between us, kissing me hard.

  I kissed her back, letting my lips say all of the things hidden in my heart. I kept her close, my arms wrapped tightly around her, threatening never to let her go.

  Our lips danced together, moving in perfect sync before my tongue ventured forward, slipping into her mouth. They tangled together, our breathing growing heavy.

  Unable to control myself, I snuck my hand into her pants. To my excitement, I found a wet spot already forming on her panties. Wanting to make it even worse, I started to rub her through the silk fabric.

  Immediately, she started to move her hips, grinding against my fingers. “Emil…” she moaned, her head tilting back, exposing her neck to me.

  I took my chance, sucking softly as I rubbed even harder, pushing some of my finger inside of her.

  She moaned even harder.

  “You’re going to wake Kimmy,” I warned.

  “Then let’s take this party to the bedroom.”

  “How about the kitchen? I wouldn’t mind a little midnight snack,” I whispered, letting my tongue linger on her skin.

  “Mmm…”

  I chuckled at her eagerness, carrying her with ease.

  She looked surprised when I bypassed the counter and set her on the dining room table instead.

  Quickly, I pulled down my pants, freeing my cock from its tight constraint. I rubbed it to rock hardness, eyeing Cassandra, seeing her lick her lips in anticipation.

  I stepped forward, unbuttoning her pants.

  As I did so, she took my cock, stroking it, going nice and slow, determined to torment me for a few moments. I guess I deserved that. I had a knack for teasing her to the point of insanity. She claimed she hated it, but I knew, deep down, she loved every second of it.

  By the time I had pulled her pants down to her knees, she had me so hard that I was leaking. Unable to wait a moment longer, I plunged into her depths.

  I groaned, my cock instantly squeezed on all sides by her tight, little pussy. Fuck, she was tight.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around me, sliding down my length, moaning as she penetrated herself on my cock.

  “Mmm, Cassandra,” I moaned, nibbling on her ear as I grabbed her ass, squeezing it between my fingers.

  She smirked, starting to ride with me, her hips moving in perfect sync. She was a nymph, ready to please. I loved it.

  Soon, we had fallen into a perfect rhythm, our chests beating as one as we made love on the kitchen table.

  Her pussy started to tight around me so I slowed down, not wanting the moment to end just yet.

  I switched my attention to her clit, flicking it back and forth.

  She howled in pleasure, quivering as she orgasmed around my cock. A puddle formed underneath her.

  I gave her a moment to regain her breath before I started up again, building her up to orgasm after orgasm until she thought she’d lose her mind. “Emil…” she whimpered.

  My cock throbbed inside of her, my balls aching for release.

  Knowing
it would be impossible for me to hold out much longer, I pinned her to the table, fucking her in earnest this time. I pounded into her hard and fast, my balls slapping into ass with every thrust.

  Our sounds of pleasure mixed together, but soon enough, I exploded inside of her.

  We collapsed into a nearby chair, our bodies locked together.

  “Fuck! How does that keep getting better every time we do it?” she asked, laying her head on my shoulder.

  I smiled. “I don’t know, but I love it.” I ran my hand up and down her back, outlining her spine with my finger and making her shiver. Gently, I kissed the top of her head, my heart beating with pure happiness. “What did I ever do to deserve a girl like you?”

  She laughed, looking up at me. “You did the right thing.” She kissed my lips, lingering there for a moment. “That’s what I admire most about you.”

  “Hmm?”

  “You could have just left. You didn’t have to come back for me, and yet you did even though you knew it’d be a risk. You could have ended up in jail for the rest of your life.”

  “I couldn’t just leave you,” I whispered. “I was a fool for ever trying.”

  “I won’t argue with that.”

  “Jeez, thanks.”

  “You know I love you,” she said, her fingers dancing around the permanent bullet scar that now decorated my chest.

  I’d wear that scar for the rest of my life.

  But it was worth it.

  Epilogue

  Cassandra

  Can you see her?” I asked, anxiously holding up my phone, ready to capture the moment she came on stage.

  “No.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Maybe she’s in the back,” Emil suggested. “Don’t worry, she’s there. It’s not like she ran off.”

  We both looked at each other.

  “Okay, maybe she ran off, but I doubt it,” he said.

  I bit my bottom lip, starting to get a little worried.

  Emil looked down at me, wrapped his arm around my waist, and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t look so worried. It’ll be fine. How hard can preschool graduation be?”

  “Well… any number of things could go around…”

  “Cassandra,” he said in a reprimanding tone. “Stop worrying.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Like all of the other parents, I waited for Kimmy’s big appearance, but there seemed to be some kind of a delay. In the end, I sat down, my phone still in hand.

  Emil held my hand.

  I turned to look at him. “You know, Kimmy asked me the other day if you were going to be her new daddy.”

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in question. “What did you tell her?”

  “That you might be. I mean, I don’t want to push that role on you or anything, but she does seem very fond of you. Plus, you handle her very well,” I started to rant, my cheeks turning bright red.

  He chuckled and kissed my nose. “You’re cute.” He squeezed my hand. “And I would love to be her new daddy. Actually –” Before he could finish his sentence, there was movement from the stage.

  To everyone’s delight, the procession of preschoolers had started. One by one, they walked out in their little gowns and accepted their diplomas, taking a moment to smile for the camera before scurrying off to be with their classmates.

  Kimmy appeared somewhere in the middle, marching forward like a little soldier.

  “I can’t believe how alike you two are,” Emil whispered.

  “Well, she is my daughter,” I answered, recording the moment. She beamed at me, waving excitedly before she hurried off the stage, her diploma clutched in her tiny fist.

  “Do you mind getting the flowers now?” I asked him.

  “Not at all.”

  As he left, I couldn’t help but wonder what he’d been going to say before he was cut off. By the time he returned, I was still dwelling on it, but I didn’t dare to ask him. I figured it would come up again in conversation if it was important.

  After Kimmy’s graduation, we went to the park. Kimmy was in love with her bouquet of flowers, clutching them to her chest and totally forgetting about her diploma.

  She held Emil’s hand, tugging him toward the playground.

  “Mommy, can you hold these?” she asked. “But be careful! Flowers are fragile!” She enunciated fragile, having learned it in her last week of classes. She made it a point to use the word at least once a day. It seemed to be her new favorite word.

  “Sure, honey.”

  Gleefully, she ran off with Emil. He pushed her on the swings. As I watched them, I couldn’t help but think that Emil would make an amazing father. Sure, he had made his fair share of mistakes. Stacey was one of them. But I knew deep in my heart that he had learned from that mistake and would never do it again.

  For better or for worse, I was stuck with him.

  After a while, they returned to the bench where I had been sitting.

  When I looked up at Emil, he looked oddly nervous.

  “Are you alright?” I asked.

  “What? Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Emil, spit it out,” I prompted.

  He took a deep breath, and before I knew it, he was down on one knee.

  It took me a moment to realize what he was doing. I was just about to tell him to get up when he pulled out a tiny red box, holding it out to me.

  I gasped.

  The ring was beautiful, sparkling in the bright sunlight.

  “Wow!” Kimmy exclaimed. “It’s so pretty!” She got on her tippy toes in order to see it better, a look of awe on her face. Usually, she would run up and touch things, but she held back, as if afraid of this particular piece of jewelry.

  “Cassandra… you’ve done nothing but make me happy. When no one else would give me a second chance, you gave me a home. You introduced me to a charming young girl who has stolen my heart.” He looked at Kimmy, who giggled, blushing. She hid behind my leg, suddenly bashful. “I never want this to end.”

  I could feel my heart beating faster than ever.

  Was this really happening? Or was I dreaming?

  “I want to be your husband, and I want to be Kimmy’s new daddy. I want us to start a family together. To grow old together. There are so many things I want to do with you, Cassandra, but to start that list, I want to marry you.” He took a deep breath. “So, will you be my wife and make me the happiest man in the world?”

  My heart skipped a beat as my legs turned to jelly. It felt like I was about to faint. I couldn’t believe this.

  “Emil…” I whispered.

  Fear swept across his eyes.

  Suddenly, I sprang forward, tackling him to the ground. “Yes!” I screamed as we rolled around on the ground. Unable to help ourselves, our lips collided into a passionate kiss.

  As soon as we broke away, Kimmy jumped into the cuddle puddle, smiling brightly. “Mommy and Emil are going to get married!” she announced to the world, hugging our heads and pulling us together.

  I laughed, knowing this was just the start of the rest of our lives together.

  Kick Off

  BAD BALLERS - BOOK 1

  PREVIEW

  1

  Sarah

  Grande soy latte, one pump sugar-free vanilla, brewed extra hot? For Yvette?” The Barista standing behind the enormous espresso machine eyed the crowd in front of him, looking to see who had ordered the obnoxious drink.

  “Here!” I called, politely pushing past the 10 a.m. crush of college students and freelancers. When polite didn’t work, I started to use my elbows.

  “Thanks,” I said, reaching for the coffee. The Barista handed it to me, giving me a small, judging smile. It’s not for me! I wanted to say, but why bother. To be honest, I was slightly affronted. I definitely don’t look like someone named Yvette.

  Pushing back through the crowd, I burst on to Boylston Street with my phone out, fingers working quickly to order an Uber. Boston isn’t li
ke New York – it’s actually incredibly walkable, and I could have hoofed it if I’d had the time. But when you’re the assistant of a tireless, jet-setting, workaholic Supermodel, time isn’t something you have much of.

  When a black Honda Accord pulled up in front of me, I hopped in. “Where to?” asked the driver, a dark-skinned young man with an interesting accent.

  “The South End,” I said and sat back, slightly breathless. My boss had her offices and apartment in the swanky SOWA district. Yvette is one of the rare models who manages herself and isn’t beholden to the schedules of an agent. She’s got a great social media presence, a brilliant mind for marketing, and is in enough demand that most designers will travel from New York to visit her. She has an apartment in New York, and she’s sometimes there – but mostly she stays in Boston. “C’est plus European,” she tells everyone. It’s more European.

  Yvette and I had both been up before 6 a.m. this morning because she’d had a meeting with Fianacci, a high-end designer who worked out of his flagship store on Newbury Street. After about twenty minutes, it was clear she didn’t need me, so she’d sent me to run a few errands. I’d picked up her juices for the week, made phone calls to schedule an interview and a few more meetings, as well as visited the bank to deposit a few of her checks. Yvette’s schedule had her back at her apartment for a 10:30 meeting – right around the time she’d be looking for her second coffee.

  Yes. I fetch coffee, and while I’m not the biggest fan of being someone’s bitch, I’m very good at it, and Yvette pays very well. When I had started working for her, just under three years ago, the goal had been to make enough money to pay for law school. I’d waited tables all the way through undergrad, and when a friend – who’d known I spoke French – had hooked me up with Yvette, she had just moved to Boston and her career had just been starting to take off.

  The Uber pulled up in front of Yvette’s apartment building, and I got out, juggling the Whole Foods bags and the coffee. “Thanks!” I called to the driver, shutting the door.