Alpha Bodyguard

by Luke Steel

  She gives this bitter laugh I’ve never heard. “He’s not dangerous unless you’re a bottle of cheap vodka. He got close enough to show his hand, and I know that asshole. He’s my father.”

  Shit. The fight goes out of me, and she slumps, looking more fatigued than before.

  “Goddamit, I knew it was him. I mean, I hoped it wasn’t, you know? He’s never given me a thing, and I haven’t heard from in years, not since my mom died. Even growing up, I only saw him when he was flat broke and came around to bully my mom out of anything she managed to save. So I guess he’s coming around to try it with me.” Her lips tighten. “I hate that he can still hurt me.”

  “Sally, I’m so sorry. Tell me how to find him and I will end this.” I take her hand off the wheel and hold it in both of mine.

  She pulls her hand away.

  “You want to drive? Fine. You’re in charge. I don’t fucking care.”

  She throws open the door and walks around, leaving me no choice but to get out and take the driver’s seat. She looks out the window as I turn the key, and neither of us speaks until we reach the estate.

  At dinner, the mood among the cast and crew is dampened but convivial after the long day. Sally wanted me to go down without her, but I’m worried she’s not going to show at all. I don’t want her going back to her dinner alone ritual, especially now that I know the painful secret she’s been hiding. She promised she’d be down after her shower, but most everyone is finished and she hasn’t come down.

  I excuse myself, empty my virtually untouched plate, and hit the stairs two at a time. There’s no answer when I rap sharply on her door, and it’s locked.

  Fuck me sideways. With her so upset, I should have kept eyes or ears on her at all times. This is why you don’t screw your fucking principal. It compromises your goddam judgment.

  I hastily unlock my door and stride across the room. The bathroom is empty, with no sign of a recent shower. Even though I know what I’ll find—nothing—I push open the adjoining door and check Sally’s room. There’s no sign of a disturbance and no Sally. As tough as she is, she’d have fought if someone came for her. But my scrutiny finds not one thing out of place.

  Unless it was her dad, and he blackmailed or threatened her into leaving with him. She could have gone off to confront him on her own. I’m not sure which pisses me off more, the thought of that asshole getting to her, or her putting herself into his hands on purpose.

  One fact stands out to me: if she left on her own, and I think she did, she didn’t trust me enough to tell me. She didn’t trust me to keep her safe and stay discreet. And after everything, that stings.

  I fire off a text:

  Where are you? Call me! – Q

  Shit, I’ve got to run damage control. She’d get reamed by the director and probably Ronette if they found out, and my credibility would be shredded. What kind of idiot lets his principal give him the slip after a run-in with a harasser? Half the movie set saw me run out. I head back downstairs and tell everyone Sally fell asleep. I chat for a while, so it doesn’t seem like I’m hiding something, and head back up to wait.

  Hours pass as I wait, hunched like an oversized gargoyle in a chair in Sally’s room. Sometimes I pace the ten steps to the door and ten steps back. Counting helps me focus. She’s got four total hours before I take action. And if I have to go after her pissbag father, he will hurt for every single hair that’s even mussed on her head. My Yeats sits on the table next to me, abandoned. The first time he’s failed to give me calm. I’ve been watching the moon’s progress across the window, marking the minutes of my self-imposed waiting period, when the key finally turns in her lock.

  She stops when she sees me. I leap up and stride to her, but I keep my hands at my sides. No matter how badly I want to hold her.

  “Where have you been, Sally? And what the fuck were you thinking? Did he threaten you? Did you pay him off? Did he hurt you?”

  She crosses her arms and gives me nothing. Not anger or defensiveness. Just the blank mask that looks eerily like and not like my Sally.

  “Are you done?”

  “Sure. Are you going to tell me where you’ve been, though?”

  She sighs and tosses her purse on the bed. “We’re an hour from Reno. My dad always needs money because he’s a compulsive and mostly shitty gambler. I took a chance that if I saw him here acting the fool, the next place he’d be was a casino. I was right. It took a while, but I finally found him at the slots in the crappiest shithole in town.”

  She slips off her shoes and starts undressing as casually as if she’s just unwinding after a long day at the office. I take a deep breath. Shouting won’t get me answers faster.

  “And?”

  “And I called him every name in the book, to my satisfaction and the amusement of a couple cocktail waitresses. Then I told him to go ahead and sell me out. Make a buck off my struggle by selling my story to some gossip magazine. I’m done being ashamed of what I had to do to get by. Seeing him reminded me I had to strip because he was a piece of shit. The past is dead and gone. My future is looking good, and there’s no place for him in it.”

  Our eyes lock. It’s like the word future comes to life and hangs in the air between us in blinking letters. I step past it and take her in my arms.

  With her face against my shoulder, she murmurs, “I’m sorry. I just needed to handle this on my own. I’ve gotten where I am by relying on myself. I wanted to know I could handle this too.”

  “I can respect that.” My breath ruffles her hair. “But you know if you need anything, anytime, I will be there. No matter what, you can count on me. And if it needs to be said, I will do that man bodily harm if he comes near you again.”

  “I know.” A hint of sadness tinges her voice. “But right now, can I count on you for dinner?”

  With a lighter heart, I go with her to ransack the kitchen for leftovers. We’re in luck, and she munches on a cold chicken leg as she gathers odds and ends on a plate. A few crew members are still in the big parlor playing poker and drinking whiskey. I watch her as she sits with them, laughing about the day’s bloopers and shooting the breeze.

  Her smile is as gorgeous as ever, maybe even brighter, as if something clouding the view has been washed away. My smile is bittersweet, though. After this shoot, I’ll be moving on. Doesn’t matter where, really. She won’t be there.

  7

  My eyes fly open. From the light outside, it’s about an hour before Sally’s alarm. I prop my hands behind my head, thinking about the last week. Since Sally told off her dad, she’s been changed on set. Still driven, dead serious about the craft, and harder working than everyone else, but friendlier. She’s let people in, and the entire set has come together almost like family. Filming has been intense, but everyone feels good about the movie. Almost like they know they’ve got something big. It’s fun watching movie magic from the other side.

  There’s been radio silence from Sally’s sorry excuse for a father. A bully like him only goes after vulnerable targets, and she’s anything but that. Ronette asked me for an update, but I was vague. Even though my gut says he’s done, caution doesn’t hurt. Drawing a paycheck for spending my nights with Sally isn’t a setup you walk out on prematurely. I can’t imagine my next gig being anywhere near as fun.

  Sally sighs in her sleep, and I look over at her. I can’t imagine my next gig being anything but shit without her, frankly. Her eyes flutter in a dream, and I hope it’s a good one. Her beautiful face is peaceful in sleep with all of her walls down.

  I’m confident nobody knows, still. Outside this room, we are nothing more than bodyguard and client. I don’t touch her. Half the time, I don’t even talk to her, following at a distance. Which is fine, since I appreciate the rear view.

  But at night, in this room, we touch each other everywhere. Our appetite for each other is insatiable, and even now I could devour her. She’s the sexiest woman I know. Have ever known. Even though we fucked until we were utterly spent last nig
ht, my cock twitches to life as I watch her. I roll to face her and slide a hand under the sheet. My hand meets her naked breast, and I roll her nipple between my fingers. Her nipples respond first, pebbling as I play with them, and then she smiles without opening her eyes.

  My hand migrates toward her pussy and covers her mound. I spread her lips gently and drag two fingers along her slit, up to her clit. Even half-asleep, her body responds to me. I work around her clit gently, and in the still of the early morning, I can almost sense her climax building. I find the spot I know so well now, and as her body tenses, her eyes blink open—and then widen as the orgasm hits her. I cover her lips with mine, and she wakes fully. She kisses me hungrily as if we’ve been apart for months. Or as if we might be.

  When she’s writhing against me, I move over her and slide between her welcoming thighs. I ease into her gently, slowly. I want to remember every inch of her. I want her to feel me there when I’m gone. And most of all, I want to hear my name on her lips when she comes.

  Her legs wrap around me, urging me to go faster, but I ignore her. I stare into her eyes as I push into her and slide out, feeling her body change around me. I shift my angle so I ride higher, letting the ridge of my dick rub against her clit, ultra sensitive from my earlier attention. She whimpers, pulling at me, and whispering the dirty talk that always sends me over the top, but I’m immovable. Inexorable. In control, for once.

  The light in the room brightens, and an almost beatific glow falls over us. Her bow-shaped lips soften the strong, angular lines of her face. With her dark hair spread over the pillow and her eyes glowing almost amber in the diffused sunlight, I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful. I pull back and flex my hips gently, giving her only the tip in quick strokes. Craning my neck, I savor the view of my cock disappearing into her wet folds, swollen with arousal. If I stare long enough, will I remember it forever when she’s gone?

  Her head whips from side to side on the pillow, and she digs in her heels to shove her hips toward me. The sheets twist around her fingers. I roll my hips harder against her, and tremors rack her thighs. When her whimpers rise in pitch, I relent and give her my full length in pounding strokes. I watch her face, savoring the raw emotions that pass across it.

  “Ah, god I love fucking you,” I groan.

  “Harder,” she moans.

  My cock throbs with that last surge before the end, and we come almost together, hers right after mine. While our bodies are still enmeshed, I kiss her again.

  “Happy wrap day,” I whisper.

  As usual, I’m parked in my portable chair watching Sally act. They’ve run the scene twenty times, maybe, the director asking each of them for different emphasis and emotion. Finally, he yells “Cut!” on the final scene, and the cast and crew erupt in cheers and applause. They’re dispensing hugs and smiles when my phone rings. I know who it’ll be.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, man. It’s John at the agency. Have you made a decision about the job? A permanent gig for a senator in DC is a plum. I need to know if you’re interested because everyone else will want it if not.”

  “I don’t know yet. This job is just wrapping up, and I need to decompress for a minute. I might cash in some leave time. Can I get back to you?”

  “Don’t dick around too long, Quinn. Jobs like this don’t come along every day. Yeah, the guy asked for you by name, but that don’t mean he’ll wait around for you to decide to grace him with your presence.”

  “Yeah, I know, man. Thanks.”

  Yeats is the last thing to go in my bag. I place the volume on top and think about his fierce lover, the woman he could never tie down. The boards creak behind me, and Sally’s light floral perfume surrounds me.

  “So, I’m all packed. How are you coming along?”

  “Finishing touches.” I zip up my bag.

  She bounces on my neatly made bed, wrinkling the coverlet. “This house is spooky as hell but pretty cool. I’ll miss dining with animal heads.”

  “Yeah. I’ll miss the trees. I’m likely to be in nothing but concrete jungle for the foreseeable future.”

  An awkward silence falls. Sally breaks it with fake cheerfulness that’s laughable on someone with her acting ability.

  “I’ll actually miss everybody, I think. It’s been a little bit like summer camp, or how I always imagined it. But with better food.”

  “Yeah, I don’t get to eat like that very often. I seriously considered asking the chef for a couple of her recipes.”

  “You cook? Of course you do,” she gushes.

  This sunny chatterbox has stolen Sally’s body. I’d assumed she would be as stoic about this as she is about everything. Whatever I expected, her turning into a cheerleader isn’t it. I want to call her on it, if nothing else than to make it stop.

  But I don’t know if I’ll like the answer.

  Is she giving me the brush off after great but transient sex, or is she nervous because she wants more?

  “What I’m not looking forward to is LA traffic. I mean—”

  “Shut up.”

  “Excuse me, what?” A hint of her steel comes through.

  “I mean I need to talk to you. We need to talk. What’s going on here? I mean in general, between us. I need to know.”

  Her fake cheer falls away. “What do you want to happen, Quinn?”

  “I’ll tell you first what I don’t want. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow without you. Or any other morning, really. I don’t know where we go from here, but wherever it is I’m headed, I hope it’s with you.”

  I sit in the desk chair and let my head fall into my hands. I rub a palm over the prickly fuzz at the back of my buzzed hair, staring at the wooden planks and waiting for her answer with my heart in my knees and my breath on hold.

  Something paper whacks me on the head. I look up, and her eyes are level with mine as she kneels in front of me.

  “I hoped you’d say that.” She fans out two slips of stiff white paper. “I’ve got a few months off before I have to start promoting this thing. Will you come with me on a trip?”

  I focus on the plane tickets. Ireland. With Sally.

  “You realize they drive on the left side of the road, don't you Sally?”

  She grins so hard all her blindingly white teeth are on display.

  “I guess you’ll have to take the wheel, then.”

  I pull her face to mine and plant playful, smacking kisses all over her gorgeous face. She throws her arms around me, and the office chair tilts, spilling me on the floor. She tumbles with me, both of us laughing our fool heads off. I roll her on top of me, and she bounces on my chest as my chuckles fade away. Her dark brown eyes find mine, and they’re raw with need and some other emotion. One I’ll think about later. Her smile fades too, and we crash together. I wrap my hand in her ponytail and hold her head to mine, then I tug at it to tilt her chin and expose her neck. I nip and suck, my bites getting more forceful. She meets my bruising kisses with nails digging into my muscles, her body writhing against me. In between kisses, I manage to get her shirt off and cup her breasts. I take her mouth again, sweeping my tongue between her lips. Sally moans against my mouth as my thumbs rub circles over her lace-covered nipples. We’re frantic to get to each other, rougher than we’ve ever been. She fumbles at my pants as my hands push her skirt up and tear off the silk panties blocking my urgent fingers.

  Then I wrap my arms around her and roll her under me. I draw back enough to get my pants down over my hips.

  “I can’t wait, Quinn,” she gasps. “Fuck me now.”

  I’m on my knees, pants bunched just below my hips, and I push her tight pencil skirt all the way up. She bends her knees to let the skirt ride up, and I love the view. I hook my hands behind her ankles and lift her feet over my shoulders. Then I meet her eyes as I position myself at her entrance.

  “Quinn, I need you. Now.”

  But I make her wait, pinned to the floor with the head of my dick just touching her folds.

  St
aring intently into her eyes, I say, “Sally, I will go with you anywhere.”

  With a powerful thrust, I impale her completely with my full length. She cries out but doesn’t tear her gaze away from mine. I pause again. She pants and wriggles her hips, but before I move, I say again, “Anywhere.”

  I pull out and ram her again, loving the ecstasy on her beautiful face. Her lips part on a low moan, and the urgency of before crashes back into us. The angle gets me so deep, I’m worried I’ll hurt her, but her sounds are pure pleasure. Her hands come up to tweak her nipples, and I increase my pace to a frenzied rhythm. The intensity of the moment brings me hurtling toward climax, but I won’t let go until she comes. I shift my hips to angle upward, and I feel the change in her body as the pitch of her moans gets higher. Yes. Her hands flail at her side for something to hold, but there’s nothing. Her fingers stretch out, and her eyes finally close. Her neck arches, and her muscles tense. She’s right there on the peak, so I keep my rhythm, relentlessly burying my cock in her over and over until the tension uncoils and her body tells me she’s over the edge.

  A few more strokes and I let go, spilling into her in hot spurts.

  Only our heavy breaths break the silence as I ease out and disentangle her legs. When I collapse beside her on the floor with a grunt, she wriggles closer and lays her head on my shoulder. Her breasts press against my side, and I wrap my fingers around her shoulder, tracing her soft skin.

  The dark knots in the wooden beams overhead look like eyes, staring back at me as I wonder where Sally and I will find ourselves after Ireland. But I don’t care. I’ll focus on the journey, and worry about destinations later. For now, having this woman next to me is enough.

  Epilogue

  Sally walks out of the bathroom and my breath catches. In the six months since the movie wrapped, I still haven’t gotten used to her beauty. If anything, she’s inexplicably more beautiful than when I first saw her. For the movie premiere, she’s wearing a deep purple gown with a floaty chiffon layer that gives her an ethereal look. The neckline plunges in the front and back, and the draped folds at the front accentuate her gentle curves. I can barely keep my hands off the swell of her breasts visible in the vee of her dress, but I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that it’s not allowed. Yet.