CARTER
The bucket of ice cream tumbles out of her hand, landing with a thud somewhere on my floorboard. There’s ice-cream splattered on the floor of my precious car but I can not be bothered to give a fuck right now. The only way I’m leaving Rory is if we’re surgically separated. Period.A groan rumbles up my throat when she exhales, her body going soft as she kisses me back.In the back of my head, I note that she still wants me and that her earlier display had been just that--a display. But it’s a faint thing because all I can think about is lifting that flimsy excuse of a dress out of my way and shoving home.I’ve been in a different kind of hell seeing her strutting her luscious ass around the house since the last time I had her, dying for another taste of her but knowing that the chances of me getting one was slimmer than a fucking blade.My cock is begging me to free it from the confines of my jeans but I need to make sure she’sRORYI blink at my father, not sure that I just heard him correctly. “Come again?”“You’re getting a bodyguard.”I blink again. “I’m not getting a bodyguard.”“Okay.” He shrugs and I’m about to sigh out in relief that he’s letting this go so easily when he says, “I’m getting one for you.”Oh my fuck—“Elaine.” I turn to my father’s wife with pleading eyes. “Please tell my father that he’s being ridiculous.”Elaine gives me a small sympathetic smile but that’s all I get from her. “I’m sorry, Rory, but my hands are tied on this matter.”“Oh my God.” I fling my hands in the air and fall backwards on the couch. “Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too far?”Dad’s face scrunches up in a look that screams ‘what-the-fuck?’ and points a finger at himself. “I’m taking this too far?”Okay, maybe he is not taking it too far.Maybe it’s me who is downplaying it. Four days ago, I’d been lingerie shopping with my best friend, Avery, when a bullet had sailed past my head. I’d been so shocked
RORYI can count on one hand the number of times I've been speechless in my entire life. It takes a lot to make me speechless and I mean a-fucking-lot. I never thought that mere seeing a person—albeit an astronomically hot and gorgeous one—would do that to me, but that's what happens to me today."Guy to our right is staring at you," Avery informs me and I lift my head, not bothering to be discreet as I search for the guy she's talking about. When I see him, I take him in, my eyes sweeping over his seated form quickly, noting how his chest puffs out like he has a balloon under his shirt and how he flashes his teeth on a grin when he sees me looking, before I look away and to Avery. "Not interested. You can have him,” I tell her before I take a sip of my coffee, my eyes returning to my phone. On one hand is my coffee and on the other, is my phone. I'm currently scrolling through my idol’s page on Picturegram, checking out her latest designs. If there's one thing I love doing, it's
RORYThe big man stops in front of us and extends a hand to my father. "Mr. Tremaine."His voice is deep, rough and husky, and fuck, my knees tremble slightly when I hear it. Dad returns his handshake with a small smile on his face and gestures to me. Me, his daughter who has still not found the strength nor the will to lift her jaw off the ground and act like a human being with a working brain. "This is my daughter, Rory." Then to me, dad says, "Rory, this is Carter Whitlock and he's going to be your bodyguard."The man—Carter—doesn't extend his hand to me for a handshake and even though somewhere at the back of my mind, I realise that it is rude, a huge part of me is also glad that he doesn't want to shake me because I'm not sure I will be able to get my limbs to move. Avery—I forgot about her for a second there—must understand what I'm going through because she jams her elbow into my side not-so-subtly and a cough flies out of my mouth.Embarrassed because this hot man is obviou
CARTER When I took this job, I knew that it was going to be taxing. Most of my jobs usually are, and I don't just mean the protection aspect—no, not at all—I mean the aspect that concerns me constantly being around beautiful women. But I didn't expect it to be so damn difficult, because while I have worked with a myriad of beautiful, sexy women, I have never worked with anyone like Rory Tremaine. It would have been okay if yesterday, she decided to flash her tits at me or even come up with a ridiculous excuse to feel me up. Those things would have been better. But instead, she gave me the fucking tour and ran the hell out of there like her ass was on fire. It wasn't; she was just attracted to me. That much was obvious—and expected. I'm not some egoistical idiot or anything like that. I know how I look and I know what girls think when they see me—a quick hard fuck. And while they might not be wrong, I'm also not going to prove them right by giving them what they want. Most of the
CARTER After getting Rory to work safely—we went in our separate cars, of course—I drove down to the coffee shop where we met yesterday, entered and ordered coffee that I don't really need. I already drank a truck-load of coffee back at Rory's house before leaving, but coming in here without buying anything would make me feel like an asshole. I just need to clear my head for a bit and I can't do that at Rory's. Not when everywhere I turn, I see her things, her feminine touches around the house, I breathe her scent and my hard-on gets even harder. Plus, staying there when she's not around just feels weird.I'm a stranger. How can she be okay having me in her house? If the cases were reversed, I'd be watching her like a hawk. But then again, I'm jaded as hell. It took about two months for me to trust my ex-wife before we started dating. Speaking of, I fish my phone out of the front pocket of my jeans and it brightens up immediately, showing me that I already have four messages from
RORYI see it in his eyes the moment it dawns on him that this is all just a ploy to get him to come into my bathroom—or see me naked. Same thing. “You don’t need a towel.” He grunts, eyes narrowed. “You don’t wear contacts either.”Both statements are perfectly correct, of course, but I still say, “How are you so sure?”I may wear contacts, there’s no way he can know for certain that I don’t.He stares at me as though I’ve just asked him how he knows the sky is blue and, okay, I see his point. I’m wearing a towel which means that I did not, in fact, forget to wear the imaginary contacts and altogether means that I do not need his help. Busted. “What the hell, Rory?” He snaps, taking several steps backwards as though it is vital he puts space between us. My hands fall from his chest, and with the way his chest is flying up and down with his harsh breaths, you’ll think he just stepped off a treadmill.His angry tone gives me pause. I mean, I understand why he might be angry that I t
RORY"What?" Avery chokes on her toast and I have to pat her on the back several times as she coughs before she can breathe again. "Are you okay?" I ask her, hurrying to the fridge to fetch her a bottle of water and forcing it into her hands. "Here. Drink."She makes no effort to open it. “Nevermind about me. Are you okay?"I frown, giving her a look. What is she talking about? "Of course I am. Why do you ask?" It's not like I'm the one at risk of choking to death every single time I eat because I never have water within reach. "He said you're not his type!" She says in a whisper that somehow manages to sound very loud. "I would die if a guy ever told me that.""You've never been told by a guy that you're not his type?" I ask her with a raised brow. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she hasn't been told that once. Avery is the kind of beautiful and sexy that has you wondering why anyone would not want her
CARTERI sit on the front steps of the house and get to work on lacing my shoes. Every morning before escorting Rory to work, I go for a run. It's not something I have to do considering that there's a basement gym in her house—which I've come to realise she barely uses but keeps it clean—and I can easily use the treadmill. It's habit. I'm so used to running, it's become a part of me. I'm tightening the knot when two much smaller feet appear in my periphery.The feet are clad in blue running shoes so remarkably feminine, it almost brings a smile to my lips. Almost, because in the next second, it dawns on me that they are running shoes which means that whoever this person is, is going for a run. Of course I know who it is. There's only one other person who lives in this house, and who coincidentally has the same size feet as the ones I'm currently staring at—the same person I've been avoiding like the fucking plague.I'm just a
CARTERThe bucket of ice cream tumbles out of her hand, landing with a thud somewhere on my floorboard. There’s ice-cream splattered on the floor of my precious car but I can not be bothered to give a fuck right now. The only way I’m leaving Rory is if we’re surgically separated. Period. A groan rumbles up my throat when she exhales, her body going soft as she kisses me back. In the back of my head, I note that she still wants me and that her earlier display had been just that--a display. But it’s a faint thing because all I can think about is lifting that flimsy excuse of a dress out of my way and shoving home. I’ve been in a different kind of hell seeing her strutting her luscious ass around the house since the last time I had her, dying for another taste of her but knowing that the chances of me getting one was slimmer than a fucking blade. My cock is begging me to free it from the confines of my jeans but I need to make sure she’s
CARTERI’m leaning against the side of my Range, waiting for Rory to get her precious ice-cream while I keep an eye out for any potential threats because one never knows. She hadn’t been safe in her own fucking house for fucks sake, and she’s partly to blame for not letting me know that she’d seen someone in her yard. Although, knowing Rory, she probably saw someone but did everything possible to gaslight herself into believing she hadn’t seen anything. I wouldn’t put it past her. Good thing there are cameras everywhere in the house now. Her father has also gone as far as installing a code on her front gate. A code only me, Rory, and her father are privy to which means no one, try as they might, can get into the house except we buzz them in. Asides from going to work, we’ve basically been on lockdown, ordering in and spending as limited time outside as possible. It’s a sacrifice Rory has been forced to make since she’s refused to mo
RORYI zone out over the next few minutes as the four people in my living room get locked in a heated argument. It’s not deliberate. I simply cannot, for the life of me, comprehend why someone would want me dead. The shooting. What if Avery had not been there to push me out of the way that day? That bullet had sailed right past my head, missing me by mere centimeters. I’d be dead. My dad had been right. I’d thought he was being over-protective and paranoid by wanting to get me a bodyguard but he wasn’t. That bullet had been meant…for me. Oh my God. My hands are shaking so bad and my legs have become so unsteady, I have to walk away from them to sit on the couch. Fear has closed up my vocal chords, making it impossible to formulate words. Someone really is after my life. This person shot at me in public and poisoned me in my own home. Even if I try to be extra careful in public, I’m still not safe inside m
RORY The next few days are a blur of Carter following me everywhere around the house like a big, broody, sexy shadow and my father, Elaine and Avery constantly dropping by to confirm if I’m truly recovering as I claim and not just downplaying my situation to get them to stop making a fuss. I stopped taking my medication prescription last night and I feel like myself again, yet everyone insists I stay home for the remainder of the week so that Carter can monitor me for any lingering reactions. Just the thought of it is enough to have me rolling my eyes. My dad clearly has massive trust issues where I’m concerned because does he seriously believe I would lie about or try to downplay something as serious as my peanut allergy? With too much free time on my hands, I’ve resorted to making sketches of designs I’d love to see come to life. Most of the time, I sit in the living room with my head buried in my sketch
CARTER My breath catches in my throat. Caught in her gaze like this, I suddenly cannot move a muscle. Even my lungs have refused to expand to let air in. I stand there, still as a fucking statue and wait for her to say something. To relieve me of this fucking torture so that I can go back to functioning like a normal human being. But she just blinks and turns onto her other side, facing away from me. The breath I’ve been holding leaves my nostrils harshly. She’s still angry. Of course, she is. What did I expect? Pivoting, I head to my room. Sit on the bed, stare at a spot on the wall--I have no idea how long--fall back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. Then I get up, whip my shirt over my head, toe off my jeans, climb onto the bed and lie face down on it. One minute. Two minutes. Three minutes pass. Fuck this.
CARTER "Have you noticed anything since you moved in?" After Spencer successfully managed to calm Rory until the latter went back to sleep—although that had more to do with the pain relievers in her system than him—he'd gestured for me to meet him in the waiting area, the frown lines on his face a dead giveaway as to what he wanted to talk about. Turns out I was right. I shake my head. "Nothing out of the ordinary." Which is why I'd begun to ask myself why he really hired me in the first place. I'd started to wonder if maybe Rory was right—that she isn't actually in danger and that her father is just being paranoid, and maybe the bullet that sailed past her head had really been nothing more than an ugly coincidence. That is, until today. "You've never caught anyone loitering outside the house?" He asks. "Never seen anyone watching her too closely? All the times she's been out, she's never ha
CARTER “Carter!” I look up to find Spencer Tremaine hurrying down the mostly-empty corridor towards me. It’s the fastest I’ve ever seen the man walk, and the closer he gets to me, the better I see his appearance. His hair sticks out in all directions and his eyes are wild, panicked. The same way, I’m positive, I’d looked when I’d handed Rory over to the nurses. “Mr Tremaine.” I extend my hand to him for a handshake and as he returns it, his eyes scan the waiting area where I’ve been standing for the past few minutes as though he expects to see his daughter here. “Have you heard from the doctor?” I shake my head, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest and the panic that’s threatening to creep in. “Not yet.” Spencer exhales harshly, turns in a circle obviously out of sorts, before dropping down on one of the chairs stacked against the wall. “Where is she?” Th
RORY There’s a spring in my step as I bound up the steps leading to my front door. I stop to grab the box of goodies waiting for me right next to my door before punching in the code and going in. Avery may not see it as much but Lord knows I have come to look forward to seeing these packages on my doorstep and after a long, tiring day of work, they’re the perfect way to end the day. Funny thing though, it feels like I ate them just yesterday even though I didn’t. I couldn’t have. Dropping the box on my kitchen counter, I place my bag and phone next to it and reach for a plate, taking out two slices of cake and an extra-large burger from the box. I carry my plate and go out into the living room where Carter is sitting on one of the sofas with his laptop on his thighs, a place I’d love to be right now. As it turns out, I’m not above getting jealous of non-living things. He doesn’t look up when I enter the li
RORY The first swipe of his tongue on my pussy has my back arching and a scream tearing out of my throat. He drags his tongue all the way from my pussy lips to my ass crack and its so strange, so shocking and so fucking dirty, it blows my mind. “Oh, God. Do that again,” I moan, cupping my breasts through my top. He holds eye contact with me as he does it the second time and I mewl, pleasure pooling inside me. It takes a hold of my body until I am not myself anymore, controlling me as easily as it has possessed me. Carter’s eyes fall shut in bliss as he really starts to eat me out. He plays with my clit, stiffens his tongue and spears me with it, fucking me. He kisses me there the way he kisses my lips, thoroughly and messily, and I ride his mouth, chasing my orgasm which I can already feel building inside me. I work one hand into his hair, sifting it through the strands as he wrecks hell on me with his mouth.