by N Kuhn
“If you tell me where we’re going, I can drive. You don’t look so good.”
“I don’t think so babe. Besides, I have the keys.” My jaw drops. They were in my purse. Yanking it up, I search through the contents. He’s right. How the hell did he get my keys? This gorgeous beast in front of me just winks as he turns into the parking area. Oh the secrets he must have locked up inside that handsome head of his. Tuck walks straight over to my car, without even asking me what I drive. It’s scary the amount of things he already knows about me, and he really seems to know a lot. Yet I know next to nothing about him. I don’t know whether to be creeped out, or to find it impressive that he’s so smart. Tossing my bags into the back, he slides himself into the driver’s seat of my Porsche. I’ll have to buy new car seat covers after this, if I make it out alive.
As the engine rumbles, he squeals the tires, heading out of the parking lot.
“Where are we going?” I ask him.
“The only safe place I can think of. My house.” Picking up his phone, he hits one button and puts it to his ear. I didn’t mean to eaves drop, but it’s impossible in such a small car.
“It’s Tuck. Yea, I got her, but we had some problems. I’ll give a full report in the morning. You may want extra security detail on the studio. Starting now. I’ll call Staff Management and make arrangements for personal detail, but I’m going to need you to get some extra guards for the lot. Yea, I’ll call you then. Don’t worry about where we’re going. It’s somewhere safe. The only place I know I can guarantee her safety. I’ll explain that in the morning. Uh-huh. Ok.”
Chapter 4
It’s sort of hard to completely understand a conversation when you’re only hearing one side of it.
“So, you said you’re going home? I’m going to your house? I can’t wait,” I purr at him. Keeping his eyes on the road, he just shakes his head and chuckles. Reaching over, I place my hand in his lap, slowly trying to creep it closer and closer to his cock. Sex calms me, and right now, I’m a big bag of nerves. I could use a whole lot of calming down. I know it’s there, throbbing hard, waiting for me, he should just give in.
“Don’t even think about it Lianna. You’re business. I don’t mix business and pleasure. I have a job to do and that’s get you back to filming. That’s what I intend to do.” So he says. I’m sure I can change his mind. Continuing my journey upward, I keep trying to inch my fingers to the waiting treasure between his legs. Grabbing my hand, he just picks it up, placing it back on my lap. Not once did his eye divert from the road in front of us.
We make the rest of the ride in silence. Leaving behind the city scape for rolling hills. His home is out here in the burbs, where it’s quiet, peaceful, and beautiful. I would love to live out here. To just be away from it all, I think things would be easier for me. Maybe I wouldn’t still be doing drugs. Three failed rehab trips and I’m slowly killing myself with booze, lines of coke and smokes. Even I’m smart enough to know what is happening to me. My problem is that I don’t care. What do I have left to make me want to change? Nothing. No close family, no real friends. Everyone in my life is fake. They are either there for the money or for the chance to say they know someone famous. I can’t even count one person I feel is truly, really a reliable friend. That’s pretty sad. What kind of person doesn’t have one real true friend they can always turn to? I’ve been acting since I was six. Everyone from my earliest memories have something to do with acting. The one girl I thought was my best friend, was really just a rival. Only nice to me in hopes to out act me at auditions. The life I live is lonely.
Pulling my purse up, I dig through, finding my cigarettes. I light a smoke up, offering one to Tuck.
“Those things will kill you, but then again, so will the drugs and drug dealers.” His disdainful manner leaves me feel uneasy. I’m sure he’s pissed right now. If not for me taking off from the studio, he wouldn’t have a bullet in his side, a smashed up Hummer, and an unannounced house guest coming over. I’m sure he has a wife or girlfriend at home who’s going to be really upset when he walks in with me. Lots of women hate me. Their men want me, which isn’t my fault. It’s not like I fawn all over them, well, not when I know they are attached. If I’m out at a bar, I have been known to get out of line a little. But, I’m out having fun. Whose business is that? Mine. But no, I do anything and the whole world will know about it by morning. Hating that I’m constantly under a microscope, I find it hard to enjoy my life. So instead, I try to hide away, in my empty mansion, and I turn to lines of coke, and bottles of Jack. That’s my life. Me and my choice of poison. Paparazzi is always in my face snapping pictures when I do venture out. They follow me around, just waiting for me to do something stupid again. It’s a lot of pressure and I’ve been dealing with it for years. This is most definitely not the life I wanted for myself.
Pulling up into a driveway, we are surrounded by trees, and it’s almost like being in the country. You can’t even tell that the bustling city is only miles away. Noticing that there isn’t really any close neighbor, I think Tuck must like solitude as much as I do. The house is a ranch style home, one floor, but long. It has blue siding, with a quaint little red door, white shutters. It’s the picture of quaint and cozy. The front step area is all flagstone, leading from drive to door. This looks like the adorable little house I grew up in, only nicer. Back when I was younger, my family was poor. I knew nothing about money, but plenty about drugs and booze. I caught on to that at an early age from my parents. Things have changed so much, I almost don’t know who I am anymore. Wincing in pain, I see lines crease on Tuck’s face as he tries to drag his tall body out of my little Porsche.
Rushing around the front of the car, I try to help him. He just brushes me off. That must be a manly pride thing. They have to do everything themselves, no help from the little lady.
“If you had a real car, instead of this toy, it wouldn’t be so bad. I’m too tall for something this tiny.” The gruffness in his voice just masks the pain, so I don’t snap back at him. I can see it written in his body language. Forgetting my bags, I follow him into the little house. Surprisingly, there’s no one here anxiously waiting by the door. The house is void of all female touches. Bachelor screams at me from every item. From the black leather couch, to the trophies and medals on the wall. How is a man, this smart and attractive, single? Or maybe they just don’t live together. This is something I should probably try to figure out, and quickly.
“You were military?” I ask him, looking at the medals and photos adorning his walls. He just grunts, walking off towards the kitchen. Straggling behind him, I look at the decorations, getting a glimpse of who Tuck really is. The man behind the tough guy façade. By the time I reach the small kitchen, he’s already washing his wound with rubbing alcohol and sanitizing a needle. His shirt was removed and I can see every inch of his well-defined upper body. Flashes of heat course through my whole body. I want him so bad. If I’m going to be killed by some whack job mobster, I want a crack at Tuck first.
“Oh ew! You’re going to do that by yourself? What if the bullet is in there? Won’t it get infected?” Feeling faint, I sit down in one of the chairs at the little breakfast nook. Interested in what he’s doing, I can’t take my eyes off of it. I’ve never seen something like this. Real gunshot wounds, real blood, real medical detail by the injured party. I mean, you see it in movies all the time, but this is my first experience of a real life trauma.
“It’s a through and through, that’s why there’s two holes. It didn’t hit anything important. I’m not bleeding to death, and I just cleaned it out. This isn’t my first rodeo with a gun.” Taking a closer look at his naked chest, I can see several scars from gun shots and a large scarred wound on his shoulder.
“What happened there?” I say, pointing to his arm and shoulder. My curiosity really does seem to be getting the better of me. I know I’m just a tuck for him, but he’s interesting. I’m not used to meeting men who don’t want to talk about themselves.<
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“My best friend died. That’s what happened.”
He ends the conversation. I can understand not wanting to talk about it. That’s fine. It’s hard to watch, but his strong fingers work with agile ability using the needle and thread. Soon enough, he manages to get both holes stitched up and the bleeding is slowing down. Tossing a rolled ace bandage at me, he holds two pads to his wounds and stands there, staring at me. Having been so engrossed in watching what he was doing, I hadn’t noticed he stopped working, and the bandage falls to the floor after hitting me. Bending to pick it up, I just look, wondering what it’s for.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I ask. As soon as the words left my mouth, I know how stupid they sounded. My cheeks blazed with an embarrassed heat. Unable to meet his gaze, my eyes shift down to the bandage in my hand. As I take it, our hands touch and I feel an electricity build under my skin, ready to combust. This man is dangerous and I love it. He oozes masculinity from every pore. I would give up all the drugs and booze in the world for one night with this guy. But he doesn’t seem interested.
“Didn’t you play a nurse in your last movie?” incredibility fills his voice, making me feel dumber, “Come on, tell me you didn’t learn a damn thing playing that role? Do you just repeat your lines, and not study your part? No wonder you’re a ‘has been’.” The exasperated tone he uses makes the words sting all that much more. Standing, I gently wrap the bandage around the pads, to hold them in place. The heat coursing off of his body sends a shock wave of desire bolting through me again and my panties soak more. I may have to do something about that. After I get a few passes around his chiseled waist, he takes the bandage from my grip, finishing the job himself. He’s right. I can’t believe I’m such an idiot. I wish I could just hide my head right now.
“What now?” I whisper, without backing away from him. Turning my eyes towards him, I see a flicker of something in his deep blue pools. Lust maybe. Reaching up, my lips brush his. Doesn’t hurt to try again, I always get what I want. It just may take a few tries. Aching, I want to feel him on me again, feel his body pressed against mine, lips on my mouth. I want to know what it’s like to have those hands on my body and him inside of me. His body goes rigid and still, like he’s holding his breath. Taking in a deep breath, my pulse races as I press on further. Crushing my mouth onto his, he resists at first, but then matches me move for move. As his tongue invades my mouth, his hands wrap around my hips, pulling me in. The strong fingers of his, tickling, and feeling my bare skinned back. With a sigh escaping my lips, a cell phone rings, interrupting us. Letting out a groan that sounded too much like relief, he backs away, grabbing for his phone from the jacket he discarded in haste. The look he gives me is a mixture of regret and hunger. Retreating back to my original seat, he walks out the door that connects the kitchen to his back yard. As he paces back and forth, I wonder if it’s a girlfriend, or worse, a wife. I haven’t noticed a wedding ring, but who knows. As I watch him, he rubs his hand through his hair, and I can tell he’s not happy.
Upon returning, he stands on the far side of the room, staring at me, as if not knowing what to do. Crossing his arms over his chest, he closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath.
“You can stay in the guest room tonight. It’s not the Hilton, but it will have to do,” finally speaking, “I’ll go get your cases.” He leaves me sitting there alone. Am I not attractive anymore? Have I fallen so far in my career and life in general that a man as gorgeous as Tuck doesn’t want me? It certainly makes a woman want to re-evaluate her life. Maybe it’s time to clean myself up.
A few minutes and lots of banging sounds later, he emerges from the hallway.
“Come on, this way,” he directs me. An impatient look crosses his face, as he waves his arm, motioning for me to hurry up. Standing, I follow him to the room at the back of the house. It’s a cute little room. Blue flannel sheets and blanket. I haven’t slept on flannel sheets in I don’t know how long. This will be fun, like camping. But, instead of worrying about bears and mountain lions attacking, I’ll be lying here hoping the sexy beast across the way. How am I supposed to get any sleep knowing he’s there and I can’t have him?
“I’m right across the hall if you need anything. Get some rest. I have to take you to the studio in the morning. You’re filming all day, and we’ll be meeting your new security detail there.”
Without waiting for me to answer, he closes the door softly behind him. The click driving home the fact that I’m all alone, scared and clueless as to how to handle it. Digging in my purse, I revert to what I know. I find what’s left of my little baggie of coke. Pouring it out onto the dresser, I start cutting it up. Just as I finish snorting the first line, the door slams open. Filling the doorway, a shocked Tuck stands there, towel dangling from his hand, wearing only a pair of basketball shorts.
“Are you kidding me? You brought drugs into my house? This is why you’re in this mess. This stuff is garbage!” Storming over to where I stand, awestruck, he scoops my blow into his hands, and takes it to the little bathroom that’s adjacent my room. I hear water running as he washes my nose candy down the drain. As the effects of my line start to tingle through my body, fear takes over. What am I going to do? I need that. I need it to be level headed, to work, to live. He can’t do that.
Marching up behind him, I slap him upside the head. His body freezes, and I can see he’s trying to tame his temper, and fear creeps over me. Backing up a step, I wonder if he’s going to hit me. My father would. I can’t say that I don’t deserve it either. Man, I just keep messing up. But, I refuse to let him see fear. Bristling my back, and raising my shoulders, I stand, defiantly in front of him, and go on the offense.
“Who do you think you are? You pull me out of a bar, I’ve been shot at, someone is trying to kill me, and it’s all your fault. If you had just left me alone, I would be fine. Now, you flush my drugs down the drain? You’re paying for that. Don’t forget, you work for me.”
In a flash, he’s grabbed my wrist and pinned me to the wall. Sure that a smack is coming now, I turn my cheek to him.
“You don’t need that shit. You’re better than that. Open your god damn eyes,” he screams in my face, “You had it all. What happened to you? Has it sunk into your head yet what you’re up against? God damn it! Those men are going to kill you. Get it through your thick skull. I can’t help you if you’re drugged up,” he screams in my face. Punching the wall next to my head, his hand leaves an imprint. As scary as it is that he’s yelling, and hitting things, he hasn’t hit me, and I find the anger it’s hotter than anything.
Feeling his rock hard body pressed up against me, his torso naked, even with the bandages, he’s glorious to look at. Slowly trying to breathe in and out, my eyes never leave his.
Tilting my face to his, I take his lips. A rush of pleasure soaks my body, my fold seeping with juice already. I’m so anxious to fuck him. Wiggling my wrist free of his grasp, I reach down, stroking him through the thin material of his basketball shorts covering his cock. Our tongues tangle inside each other’s mouths. The taste of him is pure man. No one I’ve ever been with has felt so good. As a small groan escapes his lips, he pushes into my hand, pressing himself harder against me. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he lifts me, slamming my back into the wall. Snaking my arms around his neck, I balance myself while twining my legs around his hips. His mouth now traveling down my neck, nibbling at my chest, his tongue licking the skin just above my breasts.
“Fuck me, now,” I say to him. For some reason he stops. Just right there, stops what he’s doing.
“Business, Lianna. You’re business.” Releasing me, I slide down the wall to the floor.
“You son of a bitch. You’re crazy. You run around shooting people, like you’re some Boondock Saint, you’re secretive, you won’t talk to me. Our tongues tangle inside each other’s mouths. The taste of him is pure man. No one I’ve ever been with has felt so good. But, I have to rely on you to keep me alive? Get the h
ell out of here.” As he rushes back out of the room, slamming the door in his wake, I wonder why he keeps running away. It feels like the whole house shakes from that slam, and I hear something crash to the floor and shatter. My legs quivers from the unreleased pent up passion. Just a kiss and a touch has set me on fire. Trembling, I slip out of my heels and crawl into the bed, not even bothering to change. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out. Dreamless and restless sleep encloses around me, leaving me alone in the dark room, and cold bed.
Before I know it, early morning comes, and the sun brightens my temporary home, waking me. The curtains in here are paper thin, so there’s no chance of falling back asleep. Part of me is curious to know where the proverbial rooster is. We are almost in the country after all. I think Tuck must be from the south somewhere, he has a slight drawl, even though he hides it well. When he’s angry, it seeps out, dripping from every word. It wouldn’t surprise me to find a chicken around somewhere, or some sort of livestock, gardens, and a pick-up truck. Smiling to myself, I toss my legs over the side of the bed, my foot rests on one of my suitcases. Kneeling down next to it, I open it, pulling out a pair of jeans and a hoodie. Since I’m just going to the set today, they are going to handle makeup and wardrobe, so I won’t need to get dressed up. Tuck is driving me, so I won’t need to worry about the paparazzi getting a glimpse of me looking anything less than fabulous. I’m sure my agent will be happy with that. Any day I don’t embarrass him is a good day. I guess he has a lot of bad days. Dressing like this, is just asking for photos to be spread around with rumors. ‘Lianna Landry pregnant, hiding baby bump?’ ‘Lianna on drug binge, can’t afford new clothes.’ I’ve seen it all. I don’t have the energy for anything today. I don’t even want to work. I wish I could just give the money back and disappear. That’s all I want right now, besides Tuck. All of it. I’d give it all up for him. He’s just so tempting and yet comforting, and I hate not getting something I want. Safe, that’s what he is. He’s safe for me. I know he would protect me from everything.
