by M. S. Parker
Tara tugged at my shirt. She might've been hesitant about making the first move, but there was no doubt about what she wanted.
“There's the bedroom,” she whispered as she ran her fingers over the short hair at the base of my skull. “I could light some candles.”
I stopped her with a deeper kiss, walking us back toward the couch. Frilly pillows and candles would cool my body's insistence that I follow through. And I didn't want to risk keeping going while I was standing. Getting a bit dizzy while sitting was one thing. Falling down in the middle of making out would be a definite mood-killer.
When I felt the couch against the back of my knees, I eased myself down onto it, careful to keep my head straight. She followed as I'd hoped she would, putting one knee on either side of my thighs.
She was wearing a skirt and moaned as she ground down against me. I slid my hands up her smooth thighs until I was grasping her ass. Her panties were soft cotton, and I vaguely wondered if her bra was the same. My unasked question was answered when she grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. I leaned forward, licking and kissing the tops of her breasts, then moving down to cover her nipple through her bra. She writhed against me.
“Condom?” she breathed.
I started to nod, then realized that probably wasn’t a good idea. Instead, I kept my mouth on her chest as I shifted her and reached into my back pocket for my wallet. I might not have had sex since Leighton, but that hadn't meant I hadn't kept myself prepared. The celibacy hadn't been intentional.
I tore open the wrapper and reached between us to free my cock. I was almost painfully hard now and the sensation of my fingers rolling the latex over my throbbing shaft was almost too much. I really hoped she was close or this was going to be embarrassing.
“Are you sure?” I asked before I took hold of her hips.
She looked down at me, her hazel eyes darkened to nearly brown. “Yes.”
I nodded and eased her down onto me. She was tight and wet, and oh so hot. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to take it slow. I remembered an old trick my brothers told me about once and started mentally reciting baseball statistics until I was sure I wasn't going to go off the moment I was all the way inside.
She moaned as I held her down on me, gently rocking her back and forth until I was sure she'd adjusted to me. She put her hands on my shoulders, and I opened my eyes to find her with her eyes closed. That was good. I didn't want to see those eyes and wish they were someone else's. I wasn't planning on a relationship with this girl, but I didn't want to be a complete bastard either.
She started to ride me, her head tossed back, breasts thrust forward. I let her take the lead as I focused on her body, forcing myself to think of her and only her. The way she had freckles all the way across the tops of her breasts and on her stomach. The thin patch of dark curls where our bodies met. Her lush lips and the soft little mewls that were coming from between them.
I could feel her body starting to tighten around mine and knew she was close. I slid one hand around to the front of her and started to rub my thumb across her clit. My own body was starting to feel that pressure inside, and I wanted her to go first. Suddenly, she squeezed her thighs, letting out a small cry of pleasure as she came, and the feel of her pulsing around me made me grab her, thrust up deep inside her. I squeezed my eyes closed as I pressed my face against her chest, but it wasn't her I saw as I came, but rather those challenging blue eyes. I hated myself in that moment, but let myself have it.
A minute or two later, I raised my head and leaned back against the couch. Tara smiled down at me as she climbed off. She straightened her clothes as I pulled off the condom, grimacing.
“Trash can's in the kitchen,” she said, gesturing. “I'm going to get cleaned up.”
I nodded and watched her go as I tucked my cock back into my pants. I stood carefully, hearing the bathroom door close. I quickly went into the kitchen, disposed of the condom and washed my hands. I felt bad for not sticking around until she at least came out of the bathroom, but I didn't want to talk. Hell, I didn't know what to say. Thanks? Hope to see you soon, even though that would be a lie. That night with Leighton had been the only time I'd ever slipped out after having sex without even a note.
Until now.
The physical release had done nothing to stop the pounding in my head as I hurried down the outside stairs, but it wasn't the vertigo threatening to make an appearance, but the memory of those blue eyes that sent me home to recover.
8
Leighton
My ears rang and I could still feel the bass pumping in my chest as Paris and I pushed through the crowd to the corner of the street. The break between sets was short, just enough time to grab some fresh air, but more importantly, a quick smoke. The sickly sweet smoke from the joint made me laugh before Paris even passed it over. A tight knot of young guys next to us had the same idea and the distinctive smell of marijuana drifted out into the street.
“They weren't this popular last month,” Paris observed as she looked around at the throng who'd come out to hear the band.
“You must be their good-luck charm,” I said before taking a drag on the joint.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself enjoy the way the world around me smoothed out. When I opened my eyes, Paris was looking at the band's poster plastered on the alley wall.
“Yeah, the drummer wasn't bad, but now I'm thinking the front man might be more fun.”
“They always look like that, playing it up for the crowd,” I said, handing her back the joint.
The guys next to us let their comments about our dresses, shoes, and shapes get louder, clearly hoping that we'd take the compliments and want to thank them. I rolled my eyes and Paris turned her back to them, intentionally giving them a good look at her firm behind while ignoring them at the same time.
“We could go backstage, if you want. You know, get away from the general admission tickets.” She pitched her voice loud enough for the guys to hear.
“I'm not up for hearing all about chord progressions and talks with big record labels. Too boring. At least this band's got a beat I can dance to. Remember your fling with that guy in the jazz band?”
“Experimental jazz.” Paris sighed on a smoky exhale. “Yeah, he was sexy, but that noise was awful. And he was poor as shit.”
A couple of the guys behind her had either gotten brave or stupid – I was guessing the latter – and started to step between us. Paris flicked her ash at their feet and grabbed my elbow, spinning me back through the crowd. The bouncer opened the velvet rope without a second glance, and we strolled back up to the VIP lounge. Ricky sat in our horseshoe booth with both arms hooked over the strapless shoulders of a pair of bleach blondes. One was in vivid green, and the other in a blinding orange, but everything else matched from the style of their dresses, to their overdone eyeliner, and rhinestone hair clips.
Seriously? Rhinestone?
“Identical twins,” Ricky said with a triumphant grin.
“Look again.” I shook my head. “And you might want to lay off the shots.”
Ricky peered at both the bleach blondes in turn, seeing that aside from their identical hair and boobs, they actually looked different. He grinned at me, then spoke to them, “Sorry, ladies, but my real diamonds are back. Red and real's what does it for me.”
I repressed the desire to roll my eyes at his statement, watching as he shooed them out of the booth. They scowled at me as the waiter Ricky signaled escorted them from the lounge. When Paris and I sat down, a bottle of chilled champagne appeared, and Ricky sat up to pour for us like nothing had happened.
“So who's ready to dance?” he asked, his eyes sliding over to me.
“I think I'm going to have to call it,” I said, my words slow and sticky from the marijuana. “Grandfather's been calling.”
I pulled out my phone to try and sell the lie. When I looked at the screen, it took a few minutes for me to realize it was actually true. A line
of four missed calls and Grandfather wasn't a man who was used to waiting.
Shit.
I immediately called him back. “Grandfather?” I asked as the crowd cheered the return of the band.
“Leighton? Where are you?” I could hear the disappointment. “Never mind, just come to my office when you get home. I've got a late overseas conference call so I'll be up. We have something to discuss.”
He hung up without waiting for me to respond, and I glared at the phone. From behind me, I heard the familiar giggle of a high Paris. I turned in time to see her collapse against the back of the booth. I stared at her for a moment, then started giggling as well.
“Let's dance!” she said suddenly. She jumped up and grabbed my hand.
“No, wait, I've got to go.” I frowned. “Where am I going?”
Ricky was right behind me, and his arms slid around my waist, fingers brushing against the undersides of my breasts. “You're going up to the roof with me. I paid the bouncer to let us go up there.”
He pressed his lips against the space below my ear. One hand slid up to cup my breast.
I frowned despite the buzz I still had going on. He knew I hated it when he did that in public. I shifted so that his hand dropped back down. “No, I really have to go somewhere...home. I have to go home,” I said.
“Come on, babe, I gotta have you.” He licked my earlobe. “On the roof. Imagine doing it with all of LA spread out below us.” He put his hand back on my breast and squeezed.
I spun around and shoved him back. “I've told you before that's too far.”
He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. My buzz was gone, and I was just pissed now.
“I've been summoned.” I suddenly didn't want to party anymore. I didn't want to see my grandfather, but he was as good an excuse as any. “Don't want to keep him waiting.”
Ricky stared at me for a moment, then deliberately turned toward the blonde in a green dress hovering nearby. “Can't pass up the view, babe. I already paid the bouncer.”
I watched as he staggered off in the direction of the green dress. My stomach churned as he leaned toward her, knowing exactly what he was whispering in her ear. I knew I could stop him. One little wave and I could have him following me up to the roof.
Ricky caught my eyes as he hooked an arm over the blonde's shoulder. I waved, letting him know exactly how I felt.
“Have fun with your drummer,” I said to Paris as I stepped past her.
“Front man,” she said, dancing against the railing of the VIP lounge. Her dark brown waves brushed against her bare shoulders. “I think I'm going front man tonight.”
“Well, have fun,” I said as I walked down the stairs to the side door, shooting off a text to my driver as I went. He appeared at the end of the alley before I reached it, and I took a small nap in the back of the town car as he drove me to my grandfather's house.
I woke up when my driver paused for the large wrought-iron gates to open. I popped a strong mint in my mouth and shook out my curls, grimacing at the smell. The distinctive smoke clung to me. I supposed I could always tell my grandfather it was from the crowd. I doubted he'd believe me, but I didn't have much of a choice. The driver opened the car door, and then trotted up the steps to open the front door for me. I went inside and headed to the kitchen for a soda. I needed a moment to collect myself.
“Leighton? Let's do this now before my call comes through,” Grandfather called from his office.
I choked on the fizzy soda and trudged down the hallway to my grandfather's study, still coughing. He stood in the hallway holding the door open for me. I stepped past him, stiffening as he gave me a disapproving look. I stood in front of his desk and clung to my caffeinated soda, needing it to hold more than drink it.
“Isn't it almost two in the morning?” I asked.
“And Japan will be calling any minute,” he said, striding around his desk to face me. He was still dressed in his suit and tie, buttons done all the way up. Despite knowing that he'd been up since five this morning, he looked more awake than I felt.
“Is everything okay? Is it Ian?” I asked. It hadn't even occurred to me that it could be my brother. An icy hand gripped my heart.
“Ian is fine.” Grandfather gave me a steady look for a moment, and then continued, “In fact, I haven't been able to tell him yet, but his honorable discharge will be going through soon. He'll be able to come home by the end of the month.”
I sipped my soda and thought about how I was supposed to react to the news. Ian was pretty much fully recovered from his injuries, and definitely happy to be back on base. I hadn't talked to him for a few weeks, but I knew he was ready to get back to his life in the army. He'd hate Grandfather pulling strings and getting him out of somewhere he really wanted to be.
“When are you telling him?” I figured the question was a safe one.
“Well, I would have told him tonight at a dinner I wanted to have, except I thought it should be a family celebration. Not hearing from you in days and not being able to track you down forced me to change my plans.”
Shit.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “I've been busy.”
My grandfather's face darkened. “That might be true for all you tell me, but my sources have been telling me otherwise.”
“Sources? Are you having me followed?” I asked. I knew my tone was bordering on disrespectful, but I was pissed, and I really felt like it was justified.
“No, you're not subtle enough for me to need that,” Grandfather said. He crossed his arms, and I knew he was annoyed. He never crossed his arms otherwise. It ruined the line of the suit. “I simply paid a few of your favorite places to let me know when you come and go.”
My mind raced over the last few days. Paris and I had accepted every invitation that had come our way and it was all a blur of parties, concerts, lavish dinners, and drinking. There were hotel rooms, restaurants, bars, and clubs that knew us by our first names, so keeping track wouldn't have been difficult. And I knew how people who worked at places like that viewed the people like me who didn't have to work for a living. Hell, I knew how my own grandfather looked at me.
“Suffice it to say, I've not been happy with the reports I've received,” he said. “Since I can't seem to stop your bad decisions, I've decided to do something else.”
Shit. Grandfather was the executor of my inheritance, and I was sure he could cut me off with one phone call.
“I'll stay here tonight,” I said, hoping to placate him. “Let's invite Ian over for breakfast. He and I can make pancakes, just like we used to. Then you can tell him the great news about his honorable discharge.”
Grandfather blinked at my rapid change of subject, and then his eyes narrowed for a moment before his expression softened. “You don't have to pretend I don't know how Ian feels. Despite what you think, I don't want you or your brother to be unhappy. I just want to do what's best for you.”
I sighed. He always used that line. “Ian loves the army. He always talks about how proud our parents would've been of him. He's not going to want to leave.” It was pointless to try to argue. “Besides, what's he going to do instead?”
“Ian is going to go to college.”
Well, that was predictable. Which meant I knew what was coming next.
He didn't disappoint. “One of you has to plan for your future. One of you has to take some responsibility.”
My temper flared. “You want me to go to college? Fine, I'll sign up for online classes tomorrow. Whatever.”
He slammed his hands down on the desk, making me jump. “What I want is for you to be safe during what I'm hoping is a phase.”
I bit my tongue. Instead of saying any of the things that came to mind, I sipped my soda and waited. I'd already lost my temper once.
“Remember how your brother said a Special Forces operative saved his life?”
“Yes?” I asked, confused by the change of subject.
“I wanted to find some way to repay him
for such a selfless act.”
“Didn't you have him shipped to Cedar-Sinai when you found out he was in a coma?” I asked.
“Yes.” He sounded pleased that I remembered. “But, as it turns out, he's also in need of a job and I've hired him.”
“Sounds good. I'm glad,” I said. I was, sort of. I didn't know the guy, but he saved my brother's life and that meant more to me than anything else.
“Excellent.”
Okay, that wasn't the sort of response I was expecting. How else should I have responded to hearing that my grandfather was going to help the guy who saved my brother's life?
“I'm happy you'll cooperate.”
My head jerked up. Cooperate?
“You'll be safe with him as a bodyguard, because even if I don't know where you are, I'll know how to reach you. And our hero will get a well-paid and much-needed job.”
Was he fucking kidding me?
“You hired a babysitter?” I asked. I was so angry that my voice was shaking.
“A bodyguard. It's the best thing for all of us,” Grandfather said as he opened the door to his office.
My head was spinning, but I was moving toward the doorway before I could process it. Habit. I turned once I was in the hallway, my mouth already open to argue.
His phone rang before I could say a word, and he gave me a rare smile. “I'm glad we got that settled.”
Settled? I thought as the door closed in my face. No fucking way. Hero or not, there was no way I was going to let someone settle into a well-paid position as my babysitter. I couldn't get him fired, and I didn't want him to quit since he needed the job. I did, however, need to figure out a way to get him to request another position.
But first, I thought as I texted my driver, I was going to enjoy my freedom while I still had it.
9
Leighton
It was easy enough to find Paris when I returned to the club. She was dancing on stage with the front man of the band gyrating next to her. She motioned for me to join her, but my grandfather's news had shocked me completely sober. Not only did he think me incapable of going to college or doing anything useful with my life, my grandfather had now decided I couldn't even be trusted to take care of myself. I knew Paris would find the idea of me trailing around a bodyguard hilarious, but I wasn't ready to make fun of it yet.
