Confined with the CEO and the Bodyguard

by Jordana Pearce

  A lump formed in my throat. All I did was nod. Beau, who was facing up on the table at the time, gave me a sympathetic expression.

  Then, he tried to pull me onto the table with him.

  “No,” I said, and hastily scrambled away. “I don’t do that here. This is my professional space. I can’t mess it up, you know? The way I did...” I broke off. My heart hammered in my chest. “The way I screwed up and got kicked out of my foster home for being a cam girl.”

  Beau watched me for a long minute. Then he got up. “Guess we’d better relocate and finish this discussion.”

  We promptly did, into the living room, where I poured my heart out in a way that I never have done to anyone before. I’m not sure why I chose to unload to Beau, when Dakota is the one who listens with such kindness. In my head it was a test run, maybe, before I pour my heart out to the man I’m falling in love with.

  Or perhaps, I just couldn’t stand being alone with my anger and loneliness anymore.

  After several minutes of listening to my teary confessions, Beau had one of his own. He’d already figured out my daddy issues. It didn’t take long before things led to the scene of rough sex that Dakota walked in on.

  I’m so going to mess things up with him. He’s tender and kind and supportive—everything I’ve ever wished to find in a man—and I am so fucking terrified of messing it up. The fear flooding through me makes me use more force to compensate for the trembling weakness in my hands. To calm myself, I silently recite the names of the muscles as I target them. Trapezius. Deltoid. Pectoralis major.

  “Ouch!” Dakota winces. “Ease up, Sadie.”

  “Sorry,” I mumble. I ease off and keep going with slow, soft strokes. “Is this better?”

  “Yes. Thanks. What’s got you so worked up, Sadie Banes?”

  I love it when he calls me by my full name. I’ve been given cutesy nicknames by some of my foster families, which I hate. But Dakota never does that to me. Ever since the moment I clambered out of my Chevy van, he’s seen me as a whole person. It makes me feel vulnerable.

  “I don’t want you to feel jealous because I was with Beau this afternoon,” I blurt out. I can’t control the emotion in my voice, though I try to hold it back.

  “I’m not,” he insists. I can tell he’s lying though, from the way his body tenses under my touch. I still have so many emotions bubbling under my surface that it’s not surprising when they come out in a rush of words.

  “The truth is, I’m self-sabotaging,” I tell him.

  “Why?” Dakota asks. I feel him relax, which calms me in turn. The physical connection between us has become an unspoken communication channel. I work my way down between his shoulder blades before speaking again.

  “I’ve had to struggle for everything I have. Nothing has ever come easily to me. But the very things I’ve done to survive have made me unworthy of friends or love. I let down my guard once, Dakota. I let myself fall in love, but when he found out that I was working as a stripper, my boyfriend dumped me. I can’t handle it if you do that to me, Dakota. Not that I’m doing that, anymore. Massage was supposed to be my path to independence. But now it feels as though that possibility has been closed off, too.”

  To my utter horror, a tear drips down my cheek. I scrub it away hastily. My patient notices and captures my hand in his warm palm. I am mortified by how much I need his comfort. It’s obvious that the massage is on indefinite pause. That’s twice in one day I’ve let my feelings get in the way of providing the service I’m contracted to perform.

  So much for being professional.

  “Sadie. I’m not going to do that to you. We agreed to a threesome for a few weeks. If you want to stop, we stop.” He licks his lips and I want to kiss him. “But I have to say that isn’t the impression I got. So, tell me, what’s going on with Beau?”

  My eyes burn. I never cry. Not when my mom died, not when I was separated from my half-siblings, not when my aunt called me a whore and kicked me out of the house for showing my titties on the internet. I don’t even remember crying when my boyfriend threw my stripper costumes at me and yelled, I thought these were for me. Only for me.

  But Dakota’s stalwart kindness hollows me out. I can fall apart, knowing he’ll never kick me when I’m down.

  “I was roleplaying,” I tell him. “But I think doing that cut a little too close to real life. It wasn’t as fun as I’d hoped it would be. It was more like...therapy.”

  If I had been honest with myself, I would have known going into it that I’d be an emotional wreck when it was over. My timing sucked.

  Dakota shifts. He rolls onto his side. The towel is draped over his narrow hips. If I weren’t so much in my feelings, I’d be angling to tug it away. I’m already this far into violating my own personal vow to maintain a firm barrier between my past and my future. What’s one more step?

  “If you needed that, then you needed it,” he says. Dakota’s breath is hot against my temple. “I’m not here to judge. I admit I felt a little left out, though.”

  Fear stabs through me. “I’m sorry. It had nothing to do with you.”

  That isn’t true, though. It was all about the man whose arms are strong and warm around my back. About how I find my way out of the mess of guilt and shame.

  Because only then can I ask for what I really want: his love.

  I tiptoed up to the edge on that first day when I asked if he wanted to be exclusive. But we weren’t ready for that yet—I wasn’t ready for it. Maybe, I’m still not. It doesn’t stop me from wanting it though.

  I crave his love so much that it’s become a hollow ache of constant need, and I don’t know how to fill it. I worry that it’s too much, that I’m too needy, and I will push him away when I try to draw him close to my heart.

  Dakota’s hand skims down my back, over the worn cotton of my tank top, urging me closer. My palms press the compact flatness of his pectorals. He tilts my chin upward.

  “I’ll never leave you out again—” I whisper. Dakota cuts me off with a kiss. His mouth is soft against mine, so achingly tender that I nearly burst into tears. Yet hard behind that tangle of emotions is a bolt of pure lust.

  His touch is like a thunderbolt cracking across the wide-open desert sky. This time, my tears won’t fall. The storm recedes into the distance. My tears dry up and the sting of saltwater is replaced by need. My breasts feel tight and heavy. When he rolls my nipple, I arch into the sensation, seeking relief.

  “Shh, Sadie,” he says, as though I am one of his troublesome horses learning to accept a bridle for the first time. It’s mesmerizing. I am hungry to feel him. Without thinking, I straddle his thighs. We almost topple off the massage table.

  I glance at it and feel a stab of sadness. There will be other ambitions, other goals. Right now, my job is to survive. With Dakota and Beau, I’m fighting my way past the old pain and toward a new future that, right now, I can’t even imagine the scope of.

  All I know is that Dakota is central to whatever it will look like.

  My knees hit the floor. The towel I’ve wanted to yank away is tented by his erection. I move it aside and glance up at him from beneath my eyelashes as I grasp his cock in my palm. The head is dark purple and topped with a glistening white layer of precum. I aim it toward my mouth and lick the tip. He shudders. I swirl my tongue over the top, then suck him.

  “Oh, fuck, Sadie, that’s amazing,” he groans.

  I don’t answer. I love the taste of his cock. I shift position and take him all the way down my throat. My lips touch the nest of hair at the base of his cock. I pop off, delighted at my ability to please him. It makes me feel powerful.

  “Your turn,” he rumbles. Dakota is off the massage table in one swift, silent movement. I barely have time to react before he lifts me onto the table and kneels between my thighs. I part my thighs for him, feeling open and needy and inexplicably shy. He gives me a quick glance as he traces the drenched outline of my sex through the sheer fabric. I moan. My legs are dra
ped over his shoulders. I fall back on my elbows, which barely fit on the narrow width of the massage table.

  “You’re so gorgeous, Sadie Banes.” Dakota parts me reverently. “So pink and pale, except here, at your very center.” He inserts the blunt tip of one finger. I am so wet that there is no resistance, only a sweet invasion that is not nearly enough to satisfy me. “Here, you are bright pink. Almost red. I’d like to taste you.”

  I nod and make a strangled sound of assent. He darts his tongue inside me, and my mouth falls open in a pant. “More,” I gasp raggedly. He grins and winks—winks—at me, which is so incredibly hot that I could combust. He’s quiet and confident, justifiably so. Dakota licks up my center to the small button of nerves that will push me over the edge whenever he wants it to. Right now, though, he takes his time. He scissors me open with two fingers, then adds a third finger and curls his fingers to hit the sensitive spot inside. My heels dig into his back as my leg muscles clench and release. His tongue circles my clit again and again, toying with me until I am ready to explode.

  “Yes, oh, Dakota, yes,” I hiss. I moan. I am braced precariously on my elbows the short way across the table. I cannot move a muscle above my waist without falling off. When I am close, Dakota abruptly brushes my legs off his shoulders and stands up. He positions his cock at my entrance and catches my eye.

  “Inside me,” I growl. “Please.”

  He slides home. The table is set at the perfect height for him to fuck me, and Dakota does, with great control. Slowly in, quickly out. Repeat. Harder. Deeper. Fractionally faster. I come so hard that my entire body convulses. My arms have gone numb with the effort of holding me up. Dakota’s fists rest on either side of my hips. He’s watching my breasts bounce with each thrust, in between checking my reaction every few seconds. I shift one arm out from behind me and grasp him around the neck. I cling to him and shatter.

  When I come down, he’s not yet done. “Flip over,” he commands, and I obey. This is a new side of him. Ordinarily our lovemaking is fairly gentle. Today, it is different. I am sore from Beau’s not-so-tender ministrations an hour earlier and I hope he’s not trying to take that path.

  “No anal,” I plead in a whisper as he positions himself behind me. Then I rush to reassure him. “It’s not that I don’t want to; it’s that it would be too painful right now. Maybe in a little while—”

  “Another time, sweetheart. Right now, I just want to see you smile.” His solid body is pressed along my back. Dakota finds the right angle and pushes into my pussy.

  I flash him a huge grin over my shoulder. “I’m happy, Dakota. With you. I—” I cut myself off. I love you is not the thing to say after your partner has caught you in the act with his friend. I am a little ashamed of how easily I vacillate between wanting to be dirty with a daddy and needing to be loved. They’re conflicting sides of the same coin. I want them both.

  My thoughts are fractured and fleeting, not much more than incoherent feelings that rush through me. Dakota pulls out, adjusts, and presses me down on the table. He takes my wrists and holds my hands behind my back so that I am flat against the padded surface of the table, facing down toward the floor.

  He slides inside me again, and I sigh with bliss as his cock hits every nerve with perfection.

  “That’s better, isn’t it?” he asks. He pulls back and rams me again from behind. I can barely move but I try to nod. Dakota thrusts with sharp, short bursts. I am so hot for him. So ready. I feel the orgasm building in my pelvis. It’s a tidal wave gathering speed. His movements turn jagged and off-kilter as he gets ready to come inside me. I break a second before he does. Our breath is ragged and harsh.

  Ding. The timer across the room startles us both out of our post-coital bliss—a reminder of how far I have fallen from my goals since arriving at The Black Diamond Ranch a few weeks ago. My heart races. I have no one to blame but myself.

  Dakota pulls out. When he kisses me, I taste myself on his lips. After today, I thought I’d figured out what I wanted, but I still feel so mixed up. The only thing that feels right is him—and right now, he’s walking away as though nothing has happened at all.

  10

  Beau

  Dakota struts into the courtyard outside the Big House looking mighty pleased with himself. I’d guess this has something to do with Sadie. Lucky girl—she gets both of us, the CEO of The Black Diamond, and me, the bodyguard. I hope she appreciates her good fortune.

  “Looks like you two made up?” I say with a smirk.

  “Everything’s fine. We’re still one happy little fuck pod,” Dakota says reassuringly.

  Which tells me that they haven’t worked anything out at all.

  I try to think back to when I was twenty-two. I had dropped out of college and hadn’t yet found my way into doing security work. I was aimless, pursuing any attractive woman with a nice figure and a flirtatious smile. There were good times but it was mostly a lonely and confusing period for me. I’d have screwed up my entire life if it weren’t for my mother to keep me on track.

  Then I remember, Sadie doesn’t have a mom. Not in any real sense. No dad, either, or any other family to speak of other than the estranged aunt and uncle who threw her out. She’s all alone trying to navigate this part of her life. The only support Sadie has is two men who want her body any way she’s willing to give it. We aren’t exactly neutral parties.

  Maybe I shouldn’t be so anxious to see them figure out how much in love they are with one another. Patience is a virtue, as my momma likes to say.

  But damn, Dakota has got to start asserting himself. It’s not that he’s passive, exactly. He stands up for himself when necessary. Like when Janet, the administrative assistant who bilked him out of money he was rightly owed, Dakota put his foot down and refused to prosecute. Yet if he hadn’t trusted her so easily, The Black Diamond would be in far better financial shape.

  I’ve reminded myself a million times that my job is to keep him physically safe and leave the financial and legal issues to his professional advisors, but I’ll never understand his decision not to follow through. To me, it’s an example of his inability to run this ranch at a profit.

  “Are you ever going to prosecute Janet?” I ask. I turn off the hose and begin coiling it around the holder. “It’s not too late. The statute of limitations hasn’t run out.”

  Evening has shaded the wide sky above us in pink and orange. White puffs of cloud appear to burn from within. I never get tired of New Mexico’s skies, but I miss Georgia. This place is too dry and prickly for my tastes. I’m not sure why I’m being such a rattlesnake about the fraud issue, either. Being Sadie’s confessor today has gone to my head a little. I have advice for everyone, and I’m arrogant enough to feel certain they should heed it, I guess.

  Dakota closes down at my question. “I don’t know why you’re bringing that up now, but no. Janet had enough problems. There’s no need to add to them.”

  “If you file the charges, you can claim reimbursement for the losses,” I tell him. I’m sure his accountant has said this before. His sister is a lawyer back in Chicago. She handles most of his legal work. I know for a fact she’s pushed the same point. But when Dakota makes up his mind, he gets stubborn. “Are you going to lose The Black Diamond over a two-bit fraud?”

  I’ve made him mad, now. Good. I’m not exactly anyone’s mentor, but if I can get him to change his mind by delivering a swift kick in the pants and save the ranch in the process, then I’ll play that role.

  “I’m not going to lose the Diamond,” he says through gritted teeth. “I bought this place as an investment. We hit a couple of potholes—”

  I cut him off. “That is such a fucking city-slicker way to put it—”

  Dakota returns the favor. “Because that’s all I am to you, isn’t it? A spoiled rich kid wasting his daddy’s money. Pissing it away so I can play with ponies all day instead of doing serious shit.” He kicks a pebble into a cactus. “That’s what you think of me. Nothing but a dile
ttante.”

  I try to remember what dilettante means, but there’s a reason I dropped out of college. Never was the academic type. “Nah, I just think you’re a soft-hearted pussy who’s going to lose his legacy and have to go running back to his day job.”

  Dakota inhales. He never, ever gets mad. But I am, right now. I realize with a cold shock that my hands are clenched by my sides. My easygoing façade has been breached. I am angry. Furious. “I know that isn’t what you want. When are you going to man up enough to go after success?”

  He kicks the dirt and I sense it’s a proxy for kicking me. I roll my shoulders and flex my fists. I’ve seen Dakota move. He’s lightning-quick on his feet and agile. I outweigh him by thirty pounds, but I’m older, slower and injured. I don’t want to fight. I want him to listen to me.

  “If I had half the advantages that you do, I’d have set myself up for life,” I tell him, and I don’t like hearing the note of anguish that’s crept into my voice.

  Dakota’s posture shifts fractionally. He’s not a fighter by nature, not physically. But he’s ready to take me if I throw a punch, but I don’t like my odds so I keep my attacks verbal in nature. “You’re squandering your entire future. You have a heart of gold, but you do not have a head for business. All I’m asking, friend, is that you listen to me.”

  I’m jealous. Damn. No wonder that all this time I’ve been questioning his authority at every turn. Adding Sadie to the mix has only inflamed the tension that has gone unspoken between us for so many months. Tonight, they’ve come to a head.

  Sadie’s not the only one with issues.

  “Beau,” Dakota says softly. Evening light casts a bronze glow over his exposed forearms and face. When did he become a part of this arid landscape? Unease prickles my neck. The sense that I am wrong creeps over me. A movement flickers at the corner of my eye. Sadie. My friend’s back is to her. He doesn’t take note of her presence while he continues to speak. “You’ve been nothing but an asset since the day I first held the key to this property. You’ve been a friend and a steady hand. I know you didn’t want to come here, and I appreciate your help. I really do.”