by N Kuhn
The bathroom on my room is just a shower and toilet. Turning the water up as hot as it will go, I stand under it, enjoying the pulsations of the shower head. Their soothing rhythm helps ready myself for the day that lies ahead of me. As the water drips over my body, I quickly and quietly satisfy myself. Shoving two digits inside of my hot folds, I stroke myself, thinking of his rough, rock like cock, and how it felt last night. Imagining what it would have felt like, pounding in and out of my pussy, had he not stopped. As I finger myself, I reach up, groping at my breast, with my free hand. The skin where he licked me still remembers the feel of the wet muscle moving across my chest. As I stroke my little bud, a finger still in my clit I start pinching my nipple. Oh, Tuck, I wish this was you in here, with that hard, throbbing cock. Quickly reaching my release, I lean my head against the shower wall, waiting for the waves of pleasure to subside. Man, I needed that, but it really wasn’t enough. It won’t be enough, until it’s really him inside of me. This is like just getting a taste of a line with your finger, but not being able to blow the whole thing. This man is going to drive me insane.
Cleaning up and turning the water off, I wipe the steam off of the mirror as I step out. Sometimes I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Who the hell am I? Not sure if Tuck is up yet or not, I quickly dress and venture quietly out into the house. Nearing the kitchen, a wonderful aroma fills my nose. Bacon, eggs, and coffee. I haven’t had a real breakfast like this in so long, I almost forgot what it looks like, what the smells mean. There’s not much of an appetite in my stomach, even if it does look and smell delicious. Fantastic. The man can cook too. Why the hell am I sticking around throwing myself at a man I can’t have? It’s like one big tease. How will I make it through work today? All I can think of is Tuck. Gawking like an idiot at his half naked body, standing in front of the stove, I slowly creep into the kitchen. Standing there in some torn jeans, he somehow looks normal, at ease. He’s less like the scary guy from last night, and more like boyfriend material. Putting on my pouty face, I crawl up onto a stool at the counter island.
Chapter 5
Watching Lianna enter my kitchen, she seems like a completely different woman. Dressed in a hoodie and jeans, her freshly showered wet hair hangs down her back. The flaming orange red color accentuates her green eyes. There’s a slight flush of red in her cheeks. This is the most beautiful I have ever seen her look, even when she was fresh to the business. She looks real and I feel like crap. I spent half the night tossing and turning, thinking about her lips on mine. The blue color of my dick probably matches my eyes right about now. Thoughts of her hand on my cock, and how it would feel entering her had drowned me. Wishing I could feel her pussy muscles contracting around me as she orgasms, yea, I’m dirty, I know it. But she’s gorgeous, and I can’t help the way my thoughts stray. I am a man after all. Through the whole night, I kept feeling her touch on me.
As the drugs dissipate from her system, she’s going to need sustenance. I don’t normally cook in my kitchen, but I do keep a few staples around. I had enough to cook up some eggs and bacon and I always have coffee. It would be a travesty if I ever didn’t have coffee in this house. I grew up in Texas. One thing I know, is a good breakfast. Momma never was a cooker. I had to teach myself. She spent half her time like Lianna, blowing rent money up her nose instead of taking care of me. I was always happy I didn’t have brothers or sisters, it would have made things worse than they already were. It would have just made it worse than it already was. Who the hell knows where my dead beat father was. Everyone knew he was scum and told me not to waste a single thought on him. Most people assumed I would turn out like him. But, still, it was nice to have someone watching out for me. This old woman Mama Rosie from next door helped me out. Taught me to cook and do my own laundry and much more. I grew up decent I think. Unlike most in my situation, I have a good life, a great job, and something to show for all of my hard work.
Slipping onto the stool at my island counter, she stares down at the ceramic tiling.
“Hungry?” I ask her. She just nods her head a pout forming on her mouth. I wonder if she’s still upset from last night. Oh well, she’ll have to get over it. My job is to protect her, and that’s what I’m doing. Having drugs in my home is a big no. Bringing lust into the situation will only make it harder to protect her, for both of us.
“Eat up,” I demand, placing a plate full of food and a mug of coffee in front of her. As she pushes the food around her plate with her fork, taking a small bite here and there, I shovel mine down. Within minutes, my plate is empty and she hasn’t eaten much. That’s one of the side effects of her drug of choice. Lowered appetite. That will return as the poison leaves her system. Scraping the stool back, I stand, placing my plate in the sink, at the far end of the island.
“I’m going to go get dressed. I’ll see you in a few and we’ll head out. Ok?” Nodding her head again, I groan inwardly. This is going to be an awesome ride to the studio. I can’t wait to turn her over to her new security detail. Then I can sit down and concentrate on how to get rid of Akio, and how I can use him to get some info on El Burro while I’m at it. I still have a score to settle with that asshole. Plus, the further away from me she is, the less of a temptation there will be to just nail her. Maybe I can concentrate better.
Last night’s events ruined my favorite Ralph Lauren coat. So, today I pull out the Armani three piece, making a mental note to stop and get sized for a new coat on my way home to cheer myself up. I haven’t been able to think straight since bringing Lianna home with me. Every time we get close, my mind goes to mush. I think about kissing those lips of hers when she pouts, which is a lot. I know that she likes to try and use them to get her own way. When she pouted at me in the Hilton, I almost threw her on the bed right there. I had to fight the urge to shove my dick in her mouth. What a turn on that is, those perfect lips, wrapped around me, with her big green eyes looking up at me, as she glides up and down my shaft. Growling at myself, and shaking to clear my head, I need to get it together. If I can’t focus, we could both die.
Good thing I have a lot of willpower. Sex will just complicate things, and I wasn’t lying when I told her I don’t mix business with pleasure. That only ends in one of two ways. Someone dies, or someone gets hurt. That’s all there is. There’s never a happy middle ground with these situations. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way and am not willing to repeat history. Not to mention, I can’t stand drugs. Don’t do them, don’t want to be around them, and sure as hell don’t want that shit in my house. I’ve had enough experience in it dealing with my mother. It’s not easy for a young child to grow up with a druggie mother. Especially when you don’t even understand what it means.
Heading back out to the kitchen, I see Lianna has only eaten about half of what was on her plate, and there wasn’t much on it to begin with. Taking the dish from her, I scrape the leftovers into the garbage, put the plate in the sink and grab my keys.
“Let’s go,” I say to her. Following me to my garage, she looks confused.
“We aren’t taking my Porsche?” she asks.
“No, it’s not safe. It sat out all night, plus, my vehicles all have bulletproof glass, reinforced siding and much more, installed to protect clients. . You want to get shot at by those assholes again, driving your car?” She stares at me wide eyed. Fobbing the unlock button for my Jeep, it beeps, signaling that we can get it. My vehicles are one investment I put a lot of time and money into. In the long run, she knows it works. We would have died last night if not for the bulletproof glass.
Trying to keep the mood between us jovial, I figure I’ll tell her a story.
“I once had a client. He was some Sheiks son. You know what that is right?” Looking at her, standing in my driveway, the sun shimmering off her gorgeous hair, I feel a need to touch it. Playing with my keys instead, to avoid reaching out for her, she shakes her head yes.
“Well, this kid was nothing but trouble. I was his bodyguard, but he just kept trying
to dip away from me. Finally, I get him back in my SUV, and some guy from the club he was in, comes out with a gun. He starts shooting at my Hummer. I’m getting pissed, because this was back when I had just first got all this stuff installed, you know, I was just starting out. Well thankfully it helped, and no bullets got through, right?”
She just nods again, not speaking, but looking at me intently.
“So, then, this douche bag goes and gets in his vehicle, which was a big old pick-up truck. We weren’t at no ritzy bar, we were in Venice Beach. This guy, he drives his truck right into my Hummer. But, because I had it reinforced inside, we were fine. Messed his truck up more than mine. So, I look back, and this kid has pissed himself, right there in my Hummer. Now I’m even angrier. Not only do I have to fix my truck, but now I have to have it detailed. It smells like piss. I remember shaking the Jr Sheik and asking him what the hell he did to the guy. His reply was, ‘I grope his woman’. Oh my god, I could have smacked the crap out of him. When we got there I told him to keep his hands to himself.” Laughing at the memories of my earlier jobs, I look at Lianna. She has a bored look plastered to her face. Instantly I stop laughing, throwing my hands in the air.
“I give up,” I say aloud to no one.
“What exactly was the point of that story? Besides wasting my time?” her annoyed tone strikes me as fake. She’s just trying to pretend it didn’t interest her.
“My point is, that taking my vehicle is safer. It’s in a locked garage, and no one can get to it. Plus, if those guys come across us in the streets again, we’ll be alright. I’m sorry for telling you a story about my past. It won’t happen again.” Propelling her towards the garage, she stops dead in her tracks. Spinning on her heel, she looks me straight in the eyes.
“Thank you, for opening up a little. I liked it.” Her smile spreads across her face, finally reaching her eyes. Wishing I could just tell her how beautiful she looks right now, I don’t. It wouldn’t be professional of me.
Following her to the other side, of my Jeep, I help boost her up into it. The undercarriage has been raised, to keep it up a little higher from the ground. That makes it easier for me to check specifically for bombs and other nefarious materials when I’m working. Also, it helps if you have to drive up over a curb or sidewalk, you can clear it. You can never be too safe. Just as every other time I get in my vehicles before leaving, I bend over, doing a quick scan of the Jeep. Clear. Even though I already knew it would be. My home is like a fortress. I have the top of the line security system and I update the technology every four months. If anyone even steps foot inside the perimeter of my property, I get signals on my cell phone, and silent signals in my home.
I didn’t want the crazy loud alarm everyone else uses. If someone is dumb enough to come onto my property, I’m shooting the idiot. Then the cops can come. Noises would scare them away. Smiling to myself as I slide up into the Jeep, I look over at Lianna. She looks sullen again.
“What’s wrong with you? Still mad at me?” I ask.
“Nothing, it’s just a lot to deal with. I’ve made some pretty stupid mistakes. Now I’ve put your life at risk, my life at risk, and basically anyone who comes around me. Even this new security team you set up. If one of them gets hurt like you did, I don’t think I can handle it. You should just let this guy kill me. No one would miss me.”
That statement tears at my heart, just hearing those sad words from her pretty mouth. The thing is, I know how she feels. I’ve felt that before when I was young, starving and dirty. Mama Rosie had come to look in on me, after not seeing me outside for a few days. Laying on the couch too hungry and weak to move, she picked me up, carrying me to her house.
“Just let me die,” I had told her. The look on her face was probably the same one on mine right now. Staring at Lianna, I can’t believe a young woman with so much of her life left feels that down. Maybe it’s the drugs speaking, maybe she has some other issues I don’t know about. Either way, it bothers me to hear she doesn’t care about her life.
“Of course people would miss you. What about your parents? Your fans?” I ask her.
“They haven’t been a part of my life since I cut them off from my money I was making. They only ever wanted to use me, live off of me. Lazy bastards. I wasn’t working to give it all to them. I was working to make a life for myself. You know how hard it is to be fifteen, working sixteen, seventeen hours days on set, and still trying to finish school, only to have every penny you make taken by your parents? And it’s not like they ever really cared to begin with. I was just a means of bringing them out of their poor lives. Growing up, they used me in any way they could exploit me and make some money. Pageants, acting, all of it.” Seeing a tear well up in her eye, I decide to not press it. Guess we both have some hard pasts to get over. Thinking to myself, she really should see a shrink. She could invest in that, not drugs. That’s some crazy shit, just like me, and probably her reason for all the drugs and booze. Like I said, I was lucky, and went the opposite way with my life.
Driving the Jeep down my driveway, I hit the button for my garage to close behind us, and head into the city. Our ride is silent. Neither of us knowing what to say, or what to expect when we get there. My story didn’t have the effect I thought it would. Our mood is anything but jovial. As instructed, the studio has higher security today. The wait to get onto the lot is long. Checking my surroundings, I notice a BMW Alpina, much like the one from last night, parked in the street, across from the lot. Chances are, it’s one of Akio’s men, watching to see if and when we show up. The usual packs of fans that wait at the entrance have been backed up another hundred yards from the lot, and guards patrol the area. Someone must have taken the threat seriously. As I steer the Jeep up to the studio entrance, I take notice of all the Asians walking about.
Pulling through the lot, towards the studio they are filming at, I can’t believe my eyes.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Is it tourist day? Any one of these people could be Yakuza. Hell, Akio himself could be sitting around here waiting on you.” Swearing under my breath, I look on in disbelief.
“Do you not know anything about the movie I’m working on? These are the extras. It’s set in Japan. That’s how I met those guys from last night,” she explains. This is just great. The Yakuza, Akio, they could get in so easily right now. I’m going to have to make sure that her detail sticks around and keeps a close eye on Lianna. There’s no way I can expect the security detail to do it alone, so I’ll have to try to stay on as well. Disembarking from the Jeep, I walk around, opening the door for her. Adjusting the suit coat I have on, I make sure that my gun is covered. Looking at the silver Rolex on my wrist, we’re twenty minutes early. The whole crew will be shocked, seeing her on time. Rumor has it, Diva Lianna likes showing up late, or not at all, again, the reason I have a job.
Being prepared today, I have a full clip, and an extra one in my pocket. You never know when you will need extra ammo. Especially considering the circumstances here. If Akio is as determined as I think he is, there’s going to something going down today. I can almost guarantee it. Being ready and prepared for any contingency is important to my job and success. Entering the lot, I continue to scan the area. A woman, about fifty, bleach blonde hair, fake lips and sagging tits runs up to us, squawking at Lianna.
“Lianna! I’m so glad you’re back. Come on, we have to get you into wardrobe and makeup immediately.” The woman’s voice sounds like a pack and a half a day habit. She starts tugging on Lianna’s hand. Interjecting myself between them, I remove her grip from Lianna, and cross my arms over my body.
“Tuck, this is Beverly, she’s my makeup assistant. It’s ok. I’ll be fine with her. She’s not Asian, so she can’t be part of our problem,” she tells me a smirk playing across her mouth. I’m glad she finds her safety and current situation so amusing. Unmoving, I continue to glare at the middle aged woman in front of me. The shocked look on her face tells me she isn’t used to not getting her way. As she shr
inks away from me, backing up a step or two, Lianna maneuvers around me, taking the woman’s hand.
“You’re going to the producer’s office first. Those were my instructions.” Brushing past the woman, I squeeze onto Lianna’s arm tightly.
“You’re hurting me Tuck.” Loosening my grip, I place my hand on Lianna’s back, guiding her in the direction needed, leaving the dumbfounded assistant in the wake. Making our way to the back of the lot, the producer has a small cubicle like trailer. Surrounded by equipment, costumes and junk, he sits behind a small desk, looking perturbed. The man is short, and gaudily dressed. His gold chains would normally mistake him for a shark or wanna be producer. But those of us who really know he’s Len, know that he’s the best producer Hollywood has right now. His partially balding head, horn rimmed glasses, he looks like a loser. But this loser has lots of bank, he sounds fatherly and demanding when speaking to people, and has made some of the best movies in Hollywood lately. Len the Producer they call him.
