“Right.” The big guy gestured with his beer bottle. “Ain’t polite sayin’ things about others under your breath.”
The old guy sat silently, taking a long drink from his glass. In fact, he seemed to be pretending he hadn’t heard anything at all and was doing a damn good job of it.
The two thugs exchanged glances, and the smaller guy raised his eyebrows. The big one then smiled meanly and together, they turned to face the old man.
“We’re talking to you. Don’t you go pretending you’ve suddenly gone deaf. I ain’t afraid of teaching you a lesson in manners, old man.” The big guy stepped forward and poked a sausage-like finger into the old man’s chest.
I’d had enough. I was almost halfway through my second whiskey and was more stressed than before I’d entered the bar. I stood up swiftly, thinking bitterly that these fools could have done me a favor and shown up an hour later, so they could have gotten chased out by a shotgun instead.
I stood, scraping the bar stool loudly on the wooden floor. The two thugs turned to face me with mean expressions on their faces. Too drunk, they didn’t seem worried that I was the same height as the bigger one, much more heavily muscled, and looked twice as mean.
That was their first mistake.
“You got a problem as well?” the smaller one said. “Looks like everyone in here needs a lesson in fucking manners.”
I held my hands up defensively, palms facing them. “Listen,” I said, in a low menacing voice, “‘cause I’m only gonna say this once.” I paused, noting the silence in the bar and the fact that everyone’s attention was on me. “I suggest you fuck off now, before I teach you a lesson in manners.”
They stood stupefied for a second, their expressions quickly changing from shock to anger in the space of a few seconds. And then they both took a step towards me, their arms raised.
That was their second and final mistake.
I covered the distance to the pair in an instant. Adrenaline slowing my perception of time, it seemed like he was moving like someone under water.
The smaller guy was quicker and had reacted to my advance first, swinging a frightened and savage right hook at my jaw. I tensed my left arm, strong palm facing outwards, and stepped into the punch, deflecting his fist harmlessly past my head. I then brought my right fist up to his jaw in an explosive uppercut, my massive biceps and ripped abdomen giving the punch extraordinary power and sending him flying backwards, landing with a crunch.
An instant later, I turned to face the big guy. But I easily weaved under his first right jab, rising to send a left cross into his temple. He grunted and punched at me viciously with his left, bringing his fist hooking towards my temple. I rocked back on my feet, his fist missing my face by a few inches as his momentum took him slightly off balance.
I stepped into his guard, pushing his over-extended right arm into his chest. At the same time, I brutally headbutted him square on his nose. It broke with an audible crack. I then hooked my right leg behind his left, stepping past him and sending him the rest of the way to the floor. He landed heavily with a grunt of pain.
“Shoulda listened when I told you to fuck off,” I said, my voice distorted from my partially transformed mouth-shape.
The whole exchange had taken a matter of seconds. I looked at the pair on the floor as they slowly picked themselves up. I didn’t expect any more trouble from these two and figured their pride would most likely stop them from going crying to the cops, especially when they’d been the one to start the trouble. Or at least I hoped that would be the case…
I’d been a nasty bastard in the past, but only to people who deserved it, either by threatening me, someone I cared about, or someone I was protecting. I didn’t consider myself a hero though, as I knew the only real way to stay safe was to avoid trouble whenever possible.
Regardless, I hated lowlife small-time wannabe hard men who picked on people for no reason.
I surveyed the eyes fixated on me from around the bar. I had been in the army for a few years in my younger days. My strength, savagery, skill with weapons, and fighting prowess had lead me into the Rangers, which I’d deserted after a period of spiraling self-destruction into corruption and illicit gambling rackets after the breakdown of my first and only marriage.
I turned to face Drake, stunned to see him grinning broadly at me.
“Sorry ‘bout that.” I said after a second. “Just don’t like fools causing trouble where it ain’t needed. ‘Specially fools that gang up on a couple of old guys who ain’t causing no trouble.”
Drake nodded, still grinning. “That’s all right,” he said. He leaned over the bar to tap me on the shoulder, and then pointed a finger at the old guy. “Thing is,” he continued, “if they’d picked on him ten years ago, they wouldn’t be walking outta here.”
The old guy winked at me. “Navy SEAL,” he said.
“Rangers,” I replied, nodding
I took a seat two stools down from the old guy. A large whiskey appeared in front of me. “Drink’s on the house today, buddy,” Drake said.
I raised the glass and took a grateful swig. Then I heard the door slam shut behind me, our uninvited guests leaving with their tails between their legs. Most of us had already forgotten they were there.
“So.” The old guys had turned on their stools to look at me. “Rangers, huh? Bet you got some stories.”
I grinned broadly. “Of course. I got tons. If you think you can handle them.” I winked.
Chapter Six
Alexandra
I awoke early, slightly groggy. Olivia and Lucy had ended up staying at my house. We figured there wasn’t much point in them going back home for one day, just to return the next day. Plus, we were having fun.
We’d ended up getting through quite a few bottles of champagne as we lounged around my dad’s mansion, spending time by the pool, Jacuzzi, and sauna while discussing the upcoming trip. I liked my luxuries and home comforts, but Lucy, and especially Olivia, were on a whole different level entirely. They had both called their respective homes’ housekeepers and had their suitcases delivered to my house the first day they’d arrived. Even the small cases they’d brought for the two-day stay had been the size of what a normal person would take for a week-long vacation. I suspected they hadn’t even packed the cases themselves or bought their own clothes.
I rolled over twice to reach the edge of my bed, brushing my unkempt hair back so I could check the time. It was eleven o’clock. I sighed.
Guess I should probably get up soon, I thought tiredly.
I liked my sleep and had gotten too used to sleeping in since graduating college. I wasn’t really looking forward to starting any sort of job but knew my dad wouldn’t let me get away with being a pampered and spoiled rich kid who didn’t do anything to contribute to society.
I rolled over onto my back, sighing with pleasure at the warmth and comfort of my bed. I’d chosen a ridiculously large, ornate, four-poster bed with engraved wood and embroidered curtains. It was beautiful but looked a little out of place in the modern surroundings of the purpose-built mansion my dad had commissioned after finally accepting how wealthy he was. Even still, his eyes had watered when he saw how much the bed had cost.
I snuggled farther into the covers and closed my eyes, my mind wandering.
There’s probably enough room for two Cruz Millers in this bed…
I began to visualize the curtains being drawn back on either side of me as two huge, muscled figures climbed onto the bed.
I didn’t think I could handle two, though. One would have been plenty enough…
I smiled to myself and adjusted the fantasy in my mind, one of the imaginary Cruzes disappearing to leave me alone with the other.
I imagined looking up at the figure kneeling on the bed beside me, skin taut over huge muscles, wearing nothing but some tight and revealing boxers. His big hand reaching down to brush my hair from my face, then running down my chest to gently squeeze one of my breasts. I grabbed my le
ft breast to accentuate the fantasy. Whereas my hand was barely large enough to give my breast a good squeeze, I guessed Cruz’s was large enough to fit most of it in just one of his.
I shuddered slightly at the thought, the fantasy deepening. In my mind, I leaned over, looking up at him, his handsome scarred face looking down at my naked chest. I imagined slowly pulling his boxers down. My mind visualized what would be under them, large and stiff…
I ran my hand down my stomach, under my panties…
Until there was a loud knock at my door.
I sighed in frustration. Great timing.
I hadn’t taken care of myself in a while now, and I was beginning to get more and more sexually frustrated as the days passed.
I guess I’ll get some alone time in the hotel.
Before I could stop myself, my thoughts lingered on Cruz and his large hands…
And then I remembered the knock at the door. “Come in!” I shouted, drawing back the curtain of my four-poster bed.
The door opened slowly, and Olivia’s head poked out from behind it.
“Wake up lazy!” she shouted, smiling. Olivia had always been an early riser and bored easily. She had probably lost interest in attempting to wake Lucy, who could sleep through anything.
“I am awake! I’m just dozing,” I said. “What’s up, anyway?”
“I’m hungry. Breakfast?” She approached the bed. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?” she asked, noticing my flushed cheeks. She hesitated suddenly, raising a hand to her mouth. “Oh, did I… interrupt something?” She poked me and started laughing.
“No!” I said, a little too indignantly. She’d probably already made up her own mind about what I was doing before she entered though, and no doubt would tell Lucy all about it later. “It’s just hot under these covers,” I lied. “What do you want to eat?” I asked, changing the subject. Olivia loved food. Especially expensive food.
“Hmmm. Reckon your dad’s housekeeper will knock us up some pancakes and bacon?”
“Good idea. I could use some strong coffee as well. All this champagne is catching up to me. Meet you downstairs!” I shouted as she walked out.
*
A little while later, I walked into the large kitchen to find Olivia at the breakfast bar devouring pancakes with bacon and maple syrup.
“Jeez, you couldn’t wait?” I said good-naturedly. “Morning, Sue,” I said to my dad’s housekeeper, who served as a maid, chef, cleaner, and general helper around the house. She lived here most of the time and had her own suite at the end of the mansion.
“Morning, love,” she replied in her strong British accent, turning to face me. “I’m afraid your hungry friend couldn’t wait for you to get down here. She said she was bloody starving, bless her.” Sue gave a motherly smile. “Yours will be ready in two minutes, dear. There’s coffee in the machine.” She waved a finger absently at the coffee machine, turning back to finish cooking the fresh pancakes, which smelled delicious.
I grabbed a large cup of coffee, added lots of cream and sugar, and joined Olivia at the bar. She had nearly finished her breakfast.
“Slow down!” I said, poking her in the ribs. “You’ll give yourself indigestion!” She grinned at me with a mouth full of bacon and pancakes. I laughed, thinking about how she probably wouldn’t eat like that when Cruz was around. “All set for later?” I continued, taking a large sip of coffee. I closed my eyes in pleasure at the rich sweet taste of the strong brew Sue had made.
“Yeah. We just need to get lazy bones out of bed,” Olivia said, her breakfast finished. There was barely a speck of food left on her plate. “I’ll just tell her your bodyguard’s here, wearing nothing but a thong. She’ll be ready in no time!”
Sue laughed, turning her head to look over her shoulder at us. “Now, girls! He isn’t a piece of meat, remember,” she said, gesturing to Olivia with a wooden spoon.
“Well, from what Alexandra tells us, that’s exactly what he is,” Olivia said, beaming like a child at her own joke.
Sue tutted, but there was a partial smile on her face. She came over to put a big plate of pancakes in front of me, with a bottle of maple syrup. She then placed the cutlery neatly on either side of the plate and handed me a folded white napkin.
“Thanks, Sue,” I said, smiling gratefully at her. She had started working as a maid soon after my mother had passed away and had looked after me when my dad was at work when I was young. To this day, she still saw me and my friends as children and would stop at nothing to see our needs met.
“No problem, dear. Enjoy.”
Olivia chatted absently while I ate my breakfast, flicking through her phone. I wasn’t really listening to what she was saying, but knew it was something about what she wanted to do in Paris—more than likely spending her dad’s money on stuff she didn’t really need.
I finished my breakfast soon after, almost as quickly as Olivia had devoured hers. “So, shall we go and wake the lazy ass?” I said before draining the last of my coffee.
Olivia jumped up excitedly and ran out of the kitchen. I followed quickly, chasing her up the stairs as she ran to the large bedroom she and Lucy were sharing.
Olivia opened the door and ran to Lucy’s bed, jumping on it without hesitation. She started shaking Lucy, who appeared to be still deeply asleep. I thought I could hear a murmured, “Get the fuck off of me!” coming from beneath the duvet.
I giggled and jumped on the bed too, pulling back the duvet. “Time to get up!” I said, poking Lucy in the face. “You need to make yourself look pretty for when our ride gets here!”
Lucy deftly pushed Olivia off of her, throwing her onto her back and slapping her in the face. “Bitch!” she said, sounding genuinely annoyed for a second. “I was dreaming about pancakes.”
Olivia and I both burst out laughing.
Cruz
I was awake early as usual. The alarm clock next to my bed showed 6.30 a.m., the green lights blinking in the gloom. My military conditioning to awake early had never faded, and I could never really sleep in past seven a.m.
I had ensured everything was ready the day before, so I had nothing to prepare on the day the trip started. The previous two nights, I’d broken my three-whiskey rule, figuring I was unlikely to get into trouble as I’d already had my share for the day with the two foolish thugs. Plus, I’d needed a couple extra to chill out, and the drinks had been free.
I’d awoken as clear-headed as ever, the adrenaline from the fight seeming to neutralize the three extra whiskies I’d had. Anyhow, it wasn’t nearly enough for me to get drunk. I had the constitution of an Ox, and a staggering tolerance for alcohol. when my wife left. I had so desperately wanted to drown myself in alcohol to cope with her leaving me, but could never manage to get successfully drunk. So eventually, I’d stopped hitting the bottle when I realized it would be a shitload cheaper to just talk to someone about it.
After ensuring my gear was all ready and double-checking the limo, I’d taken a walk down to a payphone to call my contact in Paris. Jean-Jacques, he liked to be called; I had no idea if it was his real name and didn’t care. Jean, as I called him to his annoyance, had ensured I had access to a few guns when I got to Paris. He’d told me he would leave a key in a locker at the airport gym, which would then open a safety deposit box near the hotel we were staying at. After ensuring the girls were safely checked in and having a look round the hotel, that would be my first destination.
A solid and reliable .357 snub nosed revolver, six shooter and surprisingly easy to conceal for a gun that could pop heads. And a Glock 19, reduced size and weight making it a perfect backup weapon. Plus enough ammo to take down two full crews of knuckleheads.
We just had to get there in one piece.
I’d have a gun in the limo, which I’d leave in the glove compartment. I’d told the guy I was hiring from, and he’d looked at me blankly until I handed him a fifty. Then he smiled and nodded at me.
It was the flight I was worried about though.
But the chances of being jumped on there were slim; a plane would provide no room to fight and nowhere to escape to with a hostage. Moreover, there would be an armed air marshal on board, maybe two. I just had to have a look at my fellow passengers and mark any I thought were suspicious. Any trouble that happened on the plane would be one-on-one, and the tight confines would work in my favor. My huge strength and speed would be unmatchable.
No, there wasn’t much to worry about until the night we got to the hotel, but I’d be armed and twice as fucking deadly. My gut feeling told me that if anything, we would be watched for a while before something happened anyway, and that it would probably be between the first and second destination. Or possibly later.
I had started to feel much better now that the day of the flight had come. All I had to do was keep Alexandra safe. Her and her friends, who probably weren’t anywhere near as hot as she was.
Chapter Seven
Cruz
Later that day, I grabbed my clothes and gear in my tattered bag, double checking the chamber in my revolver. Fully loaded. I had a combat knife hidden in my pants too. Sheathed, of course. Didn’t want any accidents happening.
I left my apartment, double locking the door in the process, and headed for the store where I’d hired the limo. Or where Alexandra’s dad had hired it, to be more precise. I’d made sure there were a couple of very expensive bottles of champagne in the fridge. Again, all courtesy of the girl’s father.
I arrived at the entrance of Alexandra’s mansion an hour before I was due, not wanting to leave anything to chance.
I made my way to the front door, nodding at the guard standing like a statue to the right of the entrance. “Mr. Miller,” he said, nodding back.
Taking the steps two at a time, I pressed the doorbell. A few moments later, the door swung open and I was greeted by a kindly, middle-aged woman who adjusted her gaze up to my face, smiling. “Ah, Cruz Miller I presume? Pleasure. Please, come in,” she said, stepping to the side.
The entrance of the house led to a large spiral staircase that I had caught a glimpse of on my previous visit. I stood to one side of the foyer with my arms behind my back, adopting a nonchalant but powerful pose. I switched my brain off, knowing it might be a while before the girls were ready. The middle-aged lady walked up to me, staring at me quizzically. If she was impressed or intimidated, she showed no sign.
Mr. Beast_An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 51
