Keeping Her Safe Page 2

  She stops by the sun lounger closest to my man, Seamus, and bends over to spread out the red towel she’s carried with her. Her round ass tips up and Seamus cannot resist. I can hardly blame him, her curved cheeks are perfect spheres and the tiny bikini bottom leaves nothing to the imagination. Her pussy is almost visible. Almost. The desire to spread her apart is unbearable.

  Toothless grannies. Dirty socks. Municipal sewers.

  I run the most disgusting things I can come up with through my mind as I stride across to the pool.

  “Get back to the house.” I tell Seamus through gritted teeth. His smirk falls from his lips immediately. “I’ll take care of Miss Delgado.

  “Yes Sir.” He looks equal parts regretful and relieved to be getting away from the incendiary vision of Cydnee Delgado stretched out on her lounger with her breasts perking high on her chest toward the sunlight.

  One knee bent, still wearing that ridiculously perilous sandal, so that a provocative view of her inner thigh drives a man mad with boiling heat.

  I replace Seamus in his position and stand sentry with my stare fixed rigid, straight ahead. I’m in full sun in a dark suit and within about thirty seconds sweat is trickling down my back. The way my skin prickles from the inside, I doubt it’s entirely the sun’s fault.

  “Agent Quartz.” She says at last, looking up in surprise as though she had no idea I was there.

  “Just Quartz.” I tell her, still staring ahead. “Agents are FBI and I’m no government lackey.”

  “You must be awfully hot in that wool suit.” She whispers. “Can’t you take off your jacket and shirt?”

  “No Ma’am.” I bark.

  “But you could guard me just as effectively from a sun lounger. I’m sure you could fit a pistol into swim trunks.”

  “I don’t have time to tan as well as maintain a secure perimeter.” Cold showers. Ice packs in my pants. I think. There’s a pistol there all right but not the kind she’s thinking of.

  “Well at least you can chat, not like Daddy’s regular guards who never say a word to me.” She insists, not letting me off. “So tell me what happened.”

  “What happened?” Jeez, I sound like a parrot.

  “What was the gunfight at the OK Corral about?”

  “All I know is that a business deal of your father’s went sour and the other party decided war was the best way to solution things.”

  “You know you talk as though your mouth is wearing a suit as tight as the one on your body.”

  “I can’t get too cozy with clients.” I inform her. “But I’ll make a mental note to chill out with the formal language. “ It works for business men, not for kitteny women apparently.

  “Well I’m sweltering.” She says, arching her back so her tits lift even higher. “I’m going in for a dip. Are you sure you don’t want to join me?”

  I want nothing more on earth right now. But she has no idea what she’d be dropping herself into if we were both in that pool. That bikini wouldn’t stand a chance. My fingers would destroy it in seconds.

  “Thank you Miss, but no.”

  “I know, I know, it’s not allowed. But I promise I wouldn’t tell. And you should call me Cydnee, if you really want to get less formal with me.

  She swivels her ass on the chair and her knees come together slightly to one side as she stands up, unspooling that perfect body so yet again I have to envision ice packs.

  “Sure I can’t tempt you, Quartz?” She tosses back at me as she sashays to the water’s edge.

  She does more than tempt me and she knows it. How I stop myself from turning into a beast and ravaging her right on the edge of the pool, I have no idea.

  I exert every ounce of will and all my experience to continue to stare straight ahead. Meanwhile my pupils swivel surreptitiously, just enough to watch her step out of those pumps and dive gracefully into the water.

  No way can that useless swimsuit can have survived the contact. My mind’s eye floods with visions of her finning through the water as the pieces of fabric fall away, and her emerging from the pool with those stupendous tits bouncing free.

  She’s underwater way too long. And then she goes out of my field of vision. I can’t help but stride to the edge and look for her fishtailing form. I don’t see her anywhere in the pool, which is dark colored, not the traditional turquoise.

  I yank my jacket, slightly damp, down my arms, ready to go in.

  And then she comes flying up right at the edge beside me. She laughs in delight at having forced me to strip, not to mention being completely discombobulated.

  She paddles water while she adjusts that damn suit to cover her gorgeous points. I can’t step away now, making a lame retreat. So I remain where I stand by the edge of the pool, my pants’ legs half-soaked from her splashing.

  “Come on in.” She says as I replace my jacket. “It’s absolutely divine in here. You’ll love it I promise.”

  “I have no doubt.” I grunt. “But I’m working, Cydnee.”

  She makes a fake little pout by putting out her bottom lip. If she was any closer I’d have to suck that flesh up into my mouth. Starting there and traveling swiftly down over all the other parts of her that are fully exposed.

  “So answer me something honestly.” She says, tilting her head to one side which makes her look even more luscious.

  Danger signs flash in my mind but she’s just a girl, almost a decade younger than I am. I grit my teeth and look down at her, bobbing in the water right beside my toes.

  “If you weren’t working, would you join me in the pool right now?”

  She smiles, seductive but innocent too. I can see how she could wrap a man round and round her little finger, including Daddy. But I’m not buying it. She knows exactly what she’s doing. If I don’t put a stop to this, she’s only going to ramp up her play until she turns me into a wild animal ready to ravage her.

  I fix her gaze in mine and then crouch all the way down until we’re barely a foot apart, in a staredown. The delectable tops of her tits rise up and down on the water’s surface. I can clearly see her nipples through the wet fabric now that the holes in the knit have stretched.

  I swallow hard, forcing back my ravenous need to pull her out of the pool and bend her over the sun lounger.

  That’s exactly what she needs. A strong man to tear that piece of string down her thighs and give that firm round ass a good spanking. Her eyelids flutter a little as she looks at me, waiting for what I have to say. Waiting breathlessly I might say, which only makes my dick strain harder in my pants.

  Fortunately in this position, on my haunches, she can’t see how hard I am for her. Definitely don’t need her telling Daddy about Bad Bodyguard.

  “Sure, I’ll tell you honestly.” I say, my voice half croaking in my throat. “I enjoy swimming and I enjoy games. But if you continue to test me, you might end up with more than you can handle.”

  Her eyes grow wide as she remains trapped in my steely gaze. I fix my features coldly so she can’t detect the voracious hunger pummeling at every cell. One word, one lick of her pink tongue across her full lips and I might devour her right here. We teeter on the edge - literally on the edge of the pool, and on the edge of whatever this need driving us is.

  I assume the poor little rich girl is bored and that isn’t worth risking this job or my reputation for. If I was going to risk it for anyone though, it would be Cydnee, with her delectable lips and full perky breasts on a body made for sin.

  But I won’t be played and now she knows it.

  I power my thighs to stand and return to my spot further away from the pool. It takes all my resilience not to reach for her towel and envelop her in my arms as emerges slowly, like a goddess, from the water.

  3

  Cydnee

  I feel his eyes on me as I relish the water cascading over my body when I climb out of the pool.

  Bastard. He could have easily said; ‘Sure Cyd, if I wasn’t at work there’s nothing I’d like more than to
strip off and dive underwater to play with you’. Instead he made out I was acting like some little tease. He came into the safe room with attitude and I have a sneaky feeling that Daddy has something to do with that. Even without the cell, I’m like a prisoner in this house, ever since my mother ran off.

  Is it wrong for a woman to be attracted to a man and to let him know it? What, are we living in the Puritan age when women were owned like cattle and if they had any money of their own were forced to give it to the man she married to do with whatever he felt like? I’m sure my father would have made it a feature of his work contract that Quartz and his men didn’t so much as look at me.

  But I see that he can’t help himself. He thinks he’s got the steely gaze down pat and that I’m not aware how his eyes trail my every step, way more closely than is required in order to protect me.

  I wrap the towel tightly around my body and walk back to the house. As I pass, of course he fixes his stare straight ahead. But I feel him boring into me from behind with every nerve ending. I remind myself not to pout. He already seems to think I’m a brat, so I’ll have to let him know he’s wrong about that too.

  As before, my heart starts to race hard the closer I get to him. He has this strange influence on my body, like voodoo or other dark magic, he makes me pant and sweat and get prickly all over. I imagine what it would be like if I were naked beneath that powerful body, the things he could make me do and feel.

  Just to show him he’s not as cool as he thinks he is, once I’m a couple of paces past him, I drop the towel and grab it in one hand to trail it behind me along the ground like a fur. I put a little swing into my hips and the wet bikini bottom rubs at my aching clit, swollen large now thanks to Quartz.

  I hear heavy footfall behind me and the next instant his hands are on me. My heart feels like it might explode as it hurls into my throat. He scoops the damp towel from the ground. As he drapes it around me, his palms come down on my shoulders just as though it really is a luxurious fur he’s cocooning me in. I want to lean back into him, feel the solid ripples of his torso melt into my back.

  He bends down towards me. I feel his hot breath on my neck and it makes me shiver. Before I realize what I’m doing, I press my ass against his pelvis and feel the hard bulge straining the fabric, the heat of him running through my tailbone and up my spine.

  A tiny moan escapes my lips and I purse them tight to stop it escaping any louder. But too late, something snaps and he pulls away as though I’ve lit a match to his skin.

  “Don’t catch a chill.” He rasps into my ear, his breath burning my lobe.

  I want to turn and fall into his arms, beg him to wrap me against him and hold me. I want his hands all over my body, squeezing and molding until I cry out loud. His palms lift away from me and the chill descends between us. I flash him a glare of loathing and storm back to the house.

  I throw myself down on my bed and tears of frustration prickle my eyes. I determine that I will not act like a spoilt brat and I force them back down. The heat in my body is unbearable despite the room being cooled to the perfect temperature. The sodden fabric rubbing at my nipples and my clit is enough to make me crazy. I tug at the strings of the bikini and pull it off me. As soon as the cool air hits my sodden folds, I feel a frenzy of need take control of me. My fingers slide into the slit and I moan out loud, finally, as my other hand yanks one side of the top down freeing my breast.

  I pinch hard on the rigid nipple and tug it ferociously. At the same time I stroke the length of my clit and rub circles around the pointed nub. Why can’t this be Quartz’s hard fingertips probing my tender places? A rush of heat goes through me at the thought. Another moan and I rock my head side to side and lift my hips, imagining his thick shaft sliding into me and my walls opening wide to welcome him.

  It’s completely insane, the height of lust I feel for a man who only popped up in my life a few hours ago. But isn’t that how desire is? The body knows what it needs, who it needs and will insist on having it somehow.

  The intensity in my pussy starts to gather into a point and I know I’m close. My fingers pick up speed, swirling through the juices pouring out of me. As the heat travels up my thighs ready to pool in my core, I arch my back and my neck. The explosion comes and I have to bite down on my lower lip to stop from shouting Quartz’s name at the top of my lungs.

  I fall back in the damp sheets, spent and relaxed for now. Later when I check myself in the mirror, a drop of blood is at the corner of my mouth.

  I stay in my room the rest of the day, reading, surfing, bingeing. I don’t want to see Quartz. I’m certain that he’d be able to read the pleasured satisfaction all over my face and I can’t stand the thought of his smug grin, knowing that I used him as my fantasy ride.

  I eat the snacks I keep hidden in my room for the times I don’t feel like leaving it, but by the evening, when I step out of the shower, I realize I’m starving. Mostly that’s due to a delicious aroma of bacon wafting upstairs from the kitchen. Luckily Daddy has left his personal chef here for my benefit and even more fortunate, clearly he didn’t come to any harm in the showdown.

  I start to throw on some sweatpants, thinking about the perfect crop top to add for maximum effect. But then I change my mind and go with a sexy little sundress I’ve never worn because you know who told me to take that off first time I put it on, same as the string bikini.

  Okay, the bikini I understand, it’s barely short of scandalous, but this dress is quite demure in my eyes. It’s low cut in back with cross over straps but that’s about as much skin as it exposes. The skirt isn’t as short as some and my boobs are definitely covered. Unless I bend over of course. But that’s a different matter. I slide my feet into a pair of high heeled sandals that make me much taller than my five feet two and head downstairs, stomach rumbling with anticipation.

  My stomach isn’t the only thing. I thought I’d relieved the ache in my clit earlier but as I slowly descend, I can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of running into Quartz. Only two of his men, still standing sentry at the doors, are around.

  What if he’s gone? Maybe he was only here to organize his crew. Maybe he’s told Daddy I’m impossible and left me with these bland meatheads in gray suits. The men nod and wish me a good evening but I resist inquiring where their boss is, not wanting to give them something to smirk about.

  I’m disappointed to say the least but the aroma from the kitchen is calling me louder. I clack across the marble floor and into the huge kitchen that my mother had renovated at massive expense about two months before leaving. There’s a huge island topped with white marble, actually it’s quartz and that brings a smile to my lips. Above the island she installed a whole slew of French copper pans hanging down that have never been used as far as I’m aware.

  “What’s for dinner, Monsieur Brai…?” My voice trails off.

  “Spaghetti carbonara.” Quartz says.

  “Oh.” I squeak. He’s standing at the six-burner Viking range with his broad back to me. His white shirt sleeves are rolled up so his incredible forearms are exposed, covered with tattoos I’d like to examine close up. If he’d ever allow me to get close. He’s even wearing Mr Braillant’s white chef’s apron. But Daddy’s petite French chef never looked so hot in it. As Quartz stirs the huge copper pot, the sinews flex and his inked triceps pump. All the air goes out of me.

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of those no wheat, no dairy, vegan chicks.” He says, turning to grin over his shoulder at me.

  “I…” Yes. “No, not really.”

  “Good, because this is my old Nonna’s special recipe and she’d be upset if you didn’t try it and fall in love.”

  Is this the same Quartz as before? Or did aliens spirit him away and leave a chilled out smiling guy, no longer talking like an AI unit, sporting amazing muscles and tattoos who can actually cook a meal in his place? I think I may already be in love, even before the first bite.

  “Where is nonna now?” I as
k, right as the smile falls away from his mouth.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” He asks in the old gruff tone.

  “Nowhere. What do you mean?” I snap.

  “You’re all dressed up as though you’re going on a date.”

  Damn, perhaps I should have stuck with the sweats.

  “It gets boring schlepping around the house, with nowhere to go to wear my nice things.” I say, feeling defensive.

  His hard gaze softens again.

  “Well you look very nice.” He says.

  “Just nice?” I say with what I hope is a flirty smile.

  “No fishing in my kitchen.” He says.

  “Is it yours now then? Will you be combining kitchen and body artistry in one?” I realize my slip of the tongue too late. “Bodyguard I mean, not body.”

  Heat floods my cheeks as he scrutinizes me with a smirk on his divine mouth.

  “No, you get to sample my chef artistry for one night only. The new cook your father hired won’t arrive until tomorrow. Are you any good in the kitchen?” He adds.

  “Useless.” I say. “I don’t think I’m much good at anything other than shopping, dining and lying by the pool.”

  “Well you do all that really well.” Quartz says - an actual compliment I didn’t have to beg for. “How about you try washing that salad.”

  “I can do that.” I say, eager to put my hands to use and distract my overheating body.

  I wash and even cut up the leaves and vegetables he’s put out. He tells me to put them in the giant salad bowl and while I’m doing as he says, he comes to stand beside me at the kitchen countertop to whip up a salad dressing from scratch, not taking advantage of the prepared stuff in the refrigerator.

  “That smells amazing.” I whisper.

  He’s so close the aroma of his man skin, a light sweat from the heat of the day I suppose, smells even more enticing than the pasta dish. As he pours and whisks and grinds, I’m mesmerized by the flexing inked forearms. My pussy pulses is in an agonized state of clenching and my underwear is way beyond damp.