Lianna (Tucked In)

by N Kuhn

  Practically dragging her from the Hummer, I scan the parking area. My eyes are constantly searching for threats. Popping the collar on my jacket, I hold her close to me, trying to look inconspicuous. Hitting the sidewalk, I rush us over to the Hilton. The doorman, recognizing me from previous assignments, opens the door for us.

  “Evening Tuck.”

  “Roger,” I nod in assent. “Which room are you in?” I ask Lianna, as we reach the elevators. Wrenching her hand from my grasp, she glares at me.

  “I’m not a child you know. You’re hired help right? I don’t have to listen to you.” This spoiled brat is going to get herself killed if she doesn’t shut up and listen. Considering that I’ve shot a few people already, and been chased and shot at, I don’t feel like dealing with her childish mood swings. There’s only so much I can do to help an unwilling client. Pressing her body against the closed elevator doors, I lean into her. Stamping down my anger, I quietly whisper in her ear.

  “Those were not toy guns. They were not stunt men. It wasn’t corn syrup blood, or acting. That was real, live, badass men, who now want to kill me, and take you. I’m not willing to die for your selfish actions. This is your fault. I’m saving your life. Now shut the hell up and do what I say or I will let them have you.” Winking at her, I pull back, just as the doors open. Unprepared for it, she begins to fall backwards into the elevator. Quickly wrapping my arms around her waist, I catch, pulling her flush to my body before she falls. Standing in the doorway, our faces barely an inch away from each other, her body tight against mine, I hear her panting. Placing my hand on the door, so it doesn’t close on us, the elevator dings irritatingly. The hardness comes back, and I know she feels it between her legs, as a sly grin creeps across her face. Reaching her hand between us, she strokes my hard cock, and I can imagine those plump lips sucking on it. Ugh, I have to stop, now. I don’t mix business and pleasure.

  Releasing her, I look around, to see if anyone is watching. To the bystanders, we look like two lovers. But you never know who else is watching. One thing I’ve succeeded in was keeping my face out of the tabloids. Anyone who hasn’t heard of me by word of mouth, doesn’t know I exist.

  “Come on tiger,” she says, pushing me away. “I’m on the eighteenth floor.” A slight laugh escapes her mouth. It’s throaty and sultry at the same time. Seeing this once beautiful girl look happy, reminds me of who she used to be. Maybe there is hope for her after all. If she can stay clean. Pushing the button, I ride the elevator up, keeping my eyes averted, looking to anything and everything but her. I really have to quench my hormones. They are the last thing we need right now.

  Chapter 3

  From the moment I saw this man in the bar, I’ve been dying to know more about him. He’s just gorgeous, and in a real way, not that fake, actor look. This man is 6’3” at least, he’s taller than me in heels, and he’s pure muscle. Granted, he’s wearing Ralph Lauren dress pants and an Armani pea coat, but even through the thick coat material, you can see his arms ripple through the material when he moves. His black hair is slightly long on top, and tousled. Urges run through my body and I want to run my fingers through it. He has a slight cleft in his chin, and I can see myself licking him, running my tongue over his chin, and invading his sweet soft mouth. I had seen him sitting in the back of the bar watching me, he was so out of place there. It was obvious his reason for being there was me, and I only wanted to have some fun. Figuring him to be a paparazzi, man was I wrong. Having no idea that all of this would happen, I guess I made a huge mistake. Now my life is in danger, and this sexy temptation of a man is the only thing keeping me alive right now. Man, I wish I had gotten that coke though. I could really use a jolt right about now.

  I already know who he is. After what happened in the bar, it hit me, that he’s the Enforcer. Everyone in Hollywood and probably all of California know who he is. They call him The Tucker. As in, he tucks you in, gets you back where you’re supposed to be, gets you out of sticky situations, or just plain saves your ass. I figured that one out after watching him shoot three men, and carry me over his shoulder like a chastised child. Apparently Rockstar felt that my ass needed saving, and they may have been right. But right now, I don’t care about right or wrong. What I care about, is feeling that long, thick, hard erection of his inside of my dripping wet folds. One look at this man and I’m soaked. I can tell he’s fighting his attraction to me. I’m sure he wants to be all professional, but damn. That erection doesn’t lie. One try. That’s all I want, is one try at it. Fumbling with the key card, I try to get us in my room. I hate these things. They never work for me. Finally, yanking it from my hand, he slips the card into the slot and it works. Figures.

  Entering my room here at the Hilton, I remember what a disaster I left it in when getting ready for this evening, to go out. There’s clothes everywhere, shoes, makeup, and panties. I hadn’t been sure how to dress. Some of the extras in the movie I’m working on asked me out. Who was I to say no? I’m always up for a party. Not wanting to over dress, and make them feel uncomfortable, or under dress, then I look silly, I had spent hours finding the right outfit. A slinky dress always works, no matter where you’re going. Stifling a laugh, as he picks up a pair of pink and black thongs off of the door handle, holding them on his finger. His eye brow arches as he glances at me, a smirk plays on those soft, plump lips. His jaw is all masculine, hard lines, with a five o’clock shadow. I know I turn him on, what man doesn’t want me, even like this. Plus, I felt it, when we were in the elevator. Smiling to myself, I strut into my room.

  “If you like those, you should see what I did decide to put under this dress,” I rub my hand down the front of my body.

  “Hurry and pack,” he demands, walking over to the window. As he watches the city from my window, I begin to throw things into my suitcases.

  What does one pack when going on the run? I try to think of any movies I was in where I had to do this. None coming to mind, I just figure I’ll take what I can fit. Grabbing a few pairs of jeans, a couple hoodies, I know I’m not going to have to get dressed up, so at least I’ll be comfortable. A few pairs of heels and my makeup go into the other one. Stalking to the safe in my closet, I glance back to make sure he isn’t looking.

  “You think I’m going to rob you? Sweetie, I don’t need your money,” he laughs at me, his manly laugh. The sound of it reverberates through my bones, soaking me again. Keying in the numbers, I open in, pulling out a few stacks of hundreds I had in there, along with some of my jewelry. I know I won’t be able to take everything, not in the fast pace we need to go, but I can’t leave this stuff behind.

  “Why do we have to leave here? There’s hotel security, and I have you,” I curiously ask him. “Not to mention, this bed will fit two. Blowing him a kiss, he turns to face me. I feel pinned by those icy blue eyes of his. Unable to resist myself any more, I saunter over to him. Running my finger along his collar, I watch as his whole body goes rigid. I can see he’s fighting the attraction between us. Tilting my head up towards him, I lick his chin and inhale the sweet masculine scent of his body. Adrenaline is like an aphrodisiac. I’m so hot and turned on right now that I’m surprised it isn’t showing through my dress. Grabbing my shoulders, he moves me away, but not before I catch the heated glare of his eyes. Lust filled pools of sweet sweet sex.

  “So, the doorman seems to know you. He called you Tuck. Is that your name? Stranger? Ha, don’t worry. I know who you are. You’re here to tuck me right? Yea, is this a permanent tuck? Or just a regular job? Why should I trust you?” I say to him, hoping I sound hot in my drunken state. I’m not too proud to admit I may have had a few too many drinks. What I really want to do, is jump him, right here and now. I’m dying to know what it feels like to have those arms wrapped around me again, while he thrusts in and out of my folds. From what I felt downstairs, his long shaft would feel perfect inside of me. I’m getting wet again just thinking about it. Panty soaker. That’s what he is. Just the sight of this Adonis causes
wetness. Even fully clothed like this.

  “Because the Yakuza are dangerous, and we’ve just pissed them off. They will find you here, that’s why we’re leaving. That’s also why I’m not taking you back to the studio. I’ll have to call your producer and let him know I’m hiding you out until morning, then maybe we can figure out what to do. If this was a permanent tuck, I wouldn’t have wasted my time or bullets saving your ass so many times tonight already.” And he’s right back to business. Huffing like an impertinent child, I cross my arms. Inches from me, I can smell him, his cologne, I breathe it in deeply. The masculine scent is very earthy, and a hint of pine, it suits him. His blunt words leave me too stunned to speak. Yes, maybe from his words, but mostly, from the musky male scent flowing off of him. It’s intoxicating, and if he doesn’t move back, I may get drunk all over again off of him. Though what I’ve already witnessed had quite the sobering effect, it wasn’t enough to fully bring me back to the brink of normal.

  Reaching up, I grab onto the necktie hanging from his shirt. Pulling him in closer to me, I run my hand over his hard muscled chest. A groan escapes my lips, oh I have to have this man. Closing in, I reach up, and latch onto his mouth. Placing a hand on the back of his head, I pull his face into me. Kissing him hard, with longing, he responds, only for a moment, before pushing me off of him.

  “I don’t think so, Lianna,” he says, unclenching my hand from his tie. “We don’t have time for this right now. Trust me, it’s not for lack of wanting you either, before you get all pouty.” Straightening his coat, I watch as he checks his gun, replacing the clip with a new one. Putting on a pout, I back up, falling to my back on the bed. The feeling of his mouth still tingles on my lips. Rubbing them with my finger, I close my eyes and sigh.

  “You really think you’ll need all those bullets? We lost them, didn’t we?” I ask him. He just continues staring at me. His face is emotionless. I can’t tell if he’s mad, or just an ass.

  “You don’t want me? You won’t tell me your real name, but I know you’re Tuck. You won’t let me stay in my hotel room. So, I’m supposed to just go with you because you say so?”

  “You can call me Tuck, that’s all you need to know, I saved your life, and yes, you have no choice. You’re coming with me, either voluntarily or over my shoulder again. Don’t think I won’t. Try me.”

  “Hm, I may just like that one Tuck,” I say, giving him a sly grin, “I would love to try you. You going to spank me while you do it too?” Rolling his eyes at me, he storms over to me. This man is even sexier when he’s angry. I love it. He grabs my arm just above the elbow, gripping tightly. It hurts, and a squeal of pain escapes my lips.

  Putting his face in mine, so we are almost touching, I can feel his hot breath on my nose.

  “Pack your things and let’s go. They will be here soon.”

  “How do you know?” My anger boils over. He doesn’t have to treat me like this. I’m the client after all. He should be doing what I say. “ I didn’t even tell them my name. Only a few of the guys knew who I was. The rest just thought I was hot. Unlike you. Plus, how would they find my hotel room so quickly? The room isn’t under my name.”

  “Lianna, I don’t have time for this. I’ve already told you who these guys are and what they are capable of. They have connections. I’m not going through this again. Stop stalling. By now, they know the name of the movie you’re working on, where you’re filming it, you’re staying, under what name, your credit card number, and I’m sure, your panty size. Let’s go, I’m not going to say it again. I hate repeating myself. If you don’t move your ass, then all your things get left behind.”

  Now full on brooding, I push him out of my face and continue packing my things in a huff. Who does he think he is to talk to me that way? Handing him two suitcases, I’m not worried about the rest of my stuff. With the money I got from the studio, I’ll be okay for a while and I can buy some new things. Opening the door, he motions for me to stay and wait. Cautiously he looks both ways down the hall, bends over and picks up my cases, walking into the hallway first. He motions for me to follow behind him, and I gladly do. The view is quite nice from back here. Finding it amusing the way he creeps down the hall towards the elevator, it quickly loses its humor when out of the elevator comes three Asian men with guns.

  Dropping my suitcases, Tuck slams me against the wall with his left arm, pulling his gun out with his right. Man he’s quick. The breath is knocked out of me, as I start to slide to my knees. Before the men even get a chance to realize what’s going on, Tuck has already shot one of them in the foot. As he falls to the ground screaming, the other two quickly take aim. A door opens down the hallway, a curious guest looks out. Seeing the guns, they quickly dip back inside their room. No doubt calling the police or hotel security, maybe both. Bullets and drywall rain down on us both, as they spray their shots everywhere. Screaming, I place my hands over my ears. Their aim must be horrible, because they didn’t get us once, but it doesn’t stop the fear spreading from the pit of my stomach. It over takes my body, and I don’t stop screaming. Tuck grabs me by the back of my neck and throws me to the ground. Pinning me with his hand, face down, he tries to block me with his body. I hear him growl, as he takes his next shots.

  All falls quiet fast. Trying to look up, he finally releases me.

  “Make sure you tell your boss that Tuck said the score is now eight to zero,” he shouts as one of the men rushes away. Crawling to my knees, my body shakes so much, I can’t stop it. The other two men that had been shot, now lay in the hallway, bullets in their head, blood soaking into the carpet.

  “Why did you let that one go?” I inquire.

  “Akio needs to know I’m not just going to lie down and take this. I’m serious about protecting you and will do what it takes. Someone has to deliver that message to him. We need to get out of here before the cops show up. I hate having to answer questions. Let’s go,” he instructs me. Impossible though, I can’t move. My feet are frozen to the ground where I stand. Tuck pulls a phone from his pocket, and dials. Who the hell is he calling at a time like this?

  “Clean up, Hilton, eighteenth floor.” That’s all he says, as he fumbles, trying to get the phone back into the coat pocket. Sobs escape my lips, even though I try to hold them in. Feeling the first tear fall down my face, seems to give the rest free reign. The warm salty water drips down my cheeks, and I’m sure my makeup isn’t holding. I can only imagine what I look like at this point. Too bad real life doesn’t come with a makeup artist or wardrobe change.

  Seeing his stony face take on some sort of confused look, I know he hasn’t any idea what to do with me.

  “Just hold me for a second you moron. I was just shot at.” His face contorts, as if he has something he wants to say, but he just keeps his mouth shut. Coming closer, he encircles me in his arms. This tough, shoot em up man has no clue when it comes to women apparently. I wrap my arms around his waist, and feel his strong muscly hips. If I weren’t so upset right now, I would absolutely have other things on my mind. But in a hallway riddled with blood, bodies and bullets, I can’t do anything but sob. Crying into his shoulder, staining the expensive Armani shirt with my tears and mascara may not be the worst thing to happen to him tonight. Feeling a wetness on my hand, I pull it from his waist, bringing it up in front of my eyes. Looking down, I can see it’s covered in blood.

  “Oh my god,” I exclaim. “Tuck, you’re hit. They shot you.”

  “It’s just a scratch. Now will you listen to me? We have to go. Immediately. No more screwing around.” Nodding my head yes, the words stuck in my throat. I’m ready to follow him anywhere he leads. Hauling one of my heavy cases up, I stumble towards the stairs. Taking it from me, he carries both of them with ease, and even opens the door for me. Entering the stairwell, I pause only to take my heels off, preparing for the eighteen floor trek to the ground level, then head off behind him in a rush to catch up.

  “I think from now on, I’ll request a floor closer to the
ground,” I quip, trying to sound cheery while breathless. It’s a failed attempt. I’m breathing so heavily. I haven’t been this short of breath, well, ever. Even after some amazing sex, I could still breathe. Making a mental note, I decide I need to work out more. Behind him, I can see drops of blood hit the steps here and there.

  “Are you going to get that checked out?” I ask him.

  “I can take care of it myself when I get home. Let’s go, hurry up.” The man really doesn’t say much unless he has to. There goes any idea of small talk to help make me feel better. Finally reaching the bottom floor, he slowly peeks out of the door.

  “All clear. Wrap your arm around my waist to hide the blood for me please. Stay right by my side, do not move away, no matter what. Got it?” he commands. Nodding my head, I follow his instructions. Nonchalantly we exit the stair well, looking like two lovebirds that just can’t get enough of each other. Cops begin filling the lobby of the hotel. One of the officers comes over, pushing us towards the door.

  “Come on folks, clear the area please.”

  “What’s happened?” Tuck asks the door man as we emerge. The old guy just winks at Tuck, taking the hundred dollar bill extending from Tuck’s hand and turns his head away. A lot of guests tip the doorman, but I guess Tuck tips for silence, judging by the amount. Directing him to where my car is parked, he starts slowing his pace. I can tell that his wound is affecting him. Urging him on, I try to take one of my cases. He shakes his head no, and picks the pace back up. I have to practically run to keep up.