Protecting Freedom Read online

  “I’m really sorry I pulled one of your stitches,” I say nervously. I feel exposed as his eyes rake over my body. Can he not feel the electricity snap around us?

  The white dress shirt and suit jacket are gone, and now he’s wearing a plain black T-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. He looks powerful and intimidating, yet all I want to do is rub up against his body like a kitten. He carries an aura that warns people not to fuck with him. But like a moth to a flame, it just makes me want him even more. His dark hair and dark green eyes are the highlights in my fantasies. His hard jaw and the rough angles of his face might make people think he isn’t handsome, but I’ve never wanted a man more.

  He’s the monster in my closet that I should be afraid of. But all I want to do is open the door and join him inside.

  “It’s fine,” he says, his gravelly voice breaking the silence. “Like I said, I’ve had worse.”

  “Does it hurt?” I take a step towards him, wanting to touch him. My fingers ache for it and I glance over my shoulder thinking we’re pretty much alone.

  “I’ll escort you back to your room.”

  I want to tell him I don’t need an escort, but he probably knows it and is just being polite. At least if he walks me I’ll get to spend more time with him. So I do as he says, wanting to steal any moment I can with him. I move down the hallway at a slow pace but feel him close to me. Much closer than Agent Sweet walks.

  “July told me you’re a Marine,” I finally say. I want to hear him talk.

  “I’m a former Marine. We don’t retire.”

  He’s moved during our walk and is now striding alongside me. He’s so much bigger when he’s so close.

  “So you’re the agent that bosses all the other ones around?” I give him a teasing smile.

  “As of a few moments ago, yes. And while the president is gone.”

  “No more Agent Sweet?”

  “Is that a problem?” he asks, cutting his eyes to me.

  I shake my head. His tone is reprimanding and for a second I wonder why he has to be a jerk for no reason.

  “Agent Sweet is with going to be on July’s detail while she and the president are away. I’ve been asked to stay with you.”

  “You look thrilled about it.”

  I try to make it sound like a joke to ease some of the tension I see in him. Any other emotion besides grumpy would be nice. He doesn't respond or try to deny it. He just keeps walking. I sigh, wondering if I should let this crush go. Maybe going away to college isn't such a bad idea. Unless he’s going to be on my detail then, too.

  “This is only until my dad gets back, right?”

  He doesn’t answer again and he’s so much colder than usual. Is he angry with me? Maybe his stomach is more painful than he’s letting on. Or maybe I’m annoying him and he’s not happy that he has to babysit.

  “Whatever,” I mumble as he opens the doors leading to my private living area. I’m surprised when he steps inside with me and closes the door behind him.

  “What are you doing?” I snap, and suddenly I’m the one who’s angry.

  I’m tired of having all these feelings for someone who isn’t going to give me the common courtesy of answering my questions. And I’m pissed off that I can’t control my body’s reaction to him no matter how hard I try. Now he’s invading my personal space and I don’t appreciate his looming presence in my room.

  “Are you going to be a problem?” His voice is so low I almost don’t hear him.

  “What is that supposed to mean? Have I ever been a problem?” I have no clue what he’s talking about. I never cause anyone in this place a moment of worry. In fact, I try to keep my head down so that I’m left alone. When I’m asked to do something, I do it, no matter how much I hate being locked up in this place. I’ll never again be free to do what I want, but I understood that at a young age. For him to stand here and ask me if I’m going to be a problem pisses me off. It makes me straighten my spine as anger rises. I put my hands on my hips and his eyes move down my body. I’ve never had another agent glare at me the way he is right now, and though I’m mad, heat pools in the lower half of my body. I’m ashamed at how much I like his eyes on me.

  “The president has said you’ve been defiant lately. That I should keep a close watch because you might be trying to rebel.” He walks farther into the room, closing some of the space between us.

  My body freezes and some of my steam evaporates as he takes a step towards me. My instincts tell me to step back, but then I recall something on the Discovery channel about turning your back on an animal. Is that what he is?

  He’s so much bigger than me, and from the look in his eyes, he’s starving.

  I stand there unmoving as the muscles in his chest flex with his slow movements. If we were in the woods I’d be the prey and he’d be the panther lurking in the tree. The thought frightens me, but god help me, it makes my legs weak with need.

  “Is it a boy that’s the problem?” His question catches me completely off-guard.

  I’ve never talked about dating to anyone, let alone my dad. Why would Washington think that’s why I’d be rebelling? I’ve been asked out before, but who really wants to go on a date with a girl who has to bring the Secret Service as a chaperone with them? Still, I don’t want to sound like a pathetic girl who can’t get a date. I have no idea why I’m trying to make him jealous, because there’s no possible way he would be. But I can’t keep from insinuating that it might be a possibility. Just to see his reaction.

  “That’s none of your business. Besides, I turn eighteen tomorrow, so it’s not like you can stop me.” I try to keep eye contact with him, but his stare is too intense.

  I decide that’s the moment for me to turn and walk away from him, but he doesn’t let me. He reaches out and grabs my arm, forcing me to face him. This is the first time he’s ever touched me, and my heart is pounding in my chest. Then I gasp as he pulls me even closer, my body now flush with his, not an inch of space between us. I have to crane my neck back to look up into his dark green eyes that are full of possession yet clouded with reluctance.

  “The best thing you can do right now is stay away from them,” he says as he licks his lips. “Maybe even me, too.”

  I’m shocked into silence as he leans in just a bit closer. His voice is meant to be threatening, but it sends a shiver of desire down my body and I shudder against him.

  “And I know exactly how old you are. I’ve been counting the days.”

  He releases me quickly like I’ve burned him. I stand there stunned, wondering what got into him. He’s never talked to me like that. No one has.

  “Stay put,” he commands as he points to the floor.

  Then he stomps out of the room and slams the door behind him. All I can do is stand there with my body on fire and my panties shamefully wet. All he had to do was put his hands on me and my body began to ready itself for him.

  I grit my teeth as angry tears sting my eyes. For one second I thought he might just kiss me, but instead he scolded me like a child and left me here all alone. I give myself one second of self-pity, then I force all of my emotions to harden.

  He thinks he can tell me what to do? I’ll show him what rebelling looks like.

  Chapter Two

  Honor

  I make my way to my bedroom and go into the closet. It’s far too big for me, but many others wouldn’t agree. I stopped fighting the stylist long ago. Normally I wear what I’m told to. It’s chosen from a list of approved clothes and laid out for me like I’m a child. I could wear something new every day for a year and still not wear everything in here. And it’s sad because none of it is my style. It’s all so clean cut and professional, but I was raised on a ranch in Tennessee. I’m more comfortable in cut-off shorts and dirty boots, but that’s not in the dress code. Right now I’m worked up, so I’m going to wear whatever I want. Or at least something that resembles what I’d like to wear. It takes me a while, but I finally find a pair of jeans and a strap
py top that is supposed to be worn under something. Not today. It’s hot out and I’m going to dress accordingly, even if I don’t go outside.

  I go to my desk and dig around for a pair of scissors. I smile as I grab them and go to work on my jeans.

  When I’m finished, I put the clothes on and look in the mirror. I feel more like myself right now than I have in a long time. My pink bra straps are visible under the top, but it’s cute. I turn and see that I’ve cut the jeans too short, but I don’t care. Washington will probably report this back to my dad, but he doesn’t seem like the type to take care of it himself rather than tattle on me. What could he even do? They’re shorts and my vagina is covered. Pretty much.

  I slip on some flip-flops and grab my sunglasses and push them up into my hair. I grab my phone and see it’s time to meet with Chad Diamond. This was one of the reasons I’d gone to see my dad this morning. I wanted to see if I could get out of this meeting. He’s supposed to help me pick the college I’m going to attend. I wanted him to be here to help me weigh all my options and see which would fit me best.

  I had thought none would suit me, but now I’m beginning to rethink things. Either I need to get away from Washington and his cold shoulder, or I need to find out if he’s so pissed off because he wants me, too. I feel the attraction between us and I watch the struggle in his eyes. I’ve watched him every day for three years, and I see that something in him has changed. Maybe he’s like me and just needs a little push.

  Either way, my meeting with Chad is going to help with that. He’s going into his senior year at Brown University. He’s cute and has asked me on a date before, but I turned him down because my heart wanted Washington. Also, I think some guys show interest in me because of who my dad is. Maybe I’ll invite Chad to my birthday party. I still need to reschedule it. If I could cancel it, I would. I’d rather do something small, but Dad seems to think this is worthy of a big celebration.

  I grab my messenger bag and head for the door. When I swing it open, I see Washington standing there.

  “Freedom is on the move,” I chirp before he can say it into his radio.

  His eyes roam down my bare legs, but I don’t stay to look at his reaction. I just keep on walking like I dress this way all the time and don’t have a care in the world. I feel him following me closely and I can’t stop myself from peeking over my shoulder. His jaw is rock solid and his lips are pressed together in a tight line.

  “I don't think your outfit is appropriate,” he says as he grabs me by the arm and spins me around to face him. It doesn't hurt, but I can feel his barely controlled strength as he once again pulls me close to him. “I think you should change.”

  “No,” I say, pulling my arm out of his grip, and try to keep walking. He steps into my path, and suddenly a wall of muscle is blocking the way. “You can’t tell me what to wear.” I look up at him and watch his nostrils flare.

  “Didn’t you just say you aren't rebellious?”

  “If you’re going to say that I am, then I might as well live up to it.” I say it in the sweetest voice I can muster.

  “This isn’t like you,” he says, but his voice is softer this time.

  “How do you know? Maybe this is my new and improved self as I get ready to go to college.”

  He looks away and thinks for a second before he turns his dark green eyes back on me. “All right. How about we make a deal?”

  “What kind of deal?” I ask as my eyes move down to his mouth. His lips look so soft.

  “If you change, I’ll do something you want.”

  “Like what?” I hedge. I want to know what he has that I want. Then the idea sparks and I decide to throw caution to the wind. Why not go after what I want? “How about a kiss?”

  “Fucking hell,” he mutters before he clenches his teeth and closes his eyes.

  If anyone walked in on us right now they’d see how tight he’s holding me, how close our bodies are pressed together. No one ever talks to me like he does, but I like that he’s not so careful. Everyone is so polite and well-mannered in front of me. I’d take Washington cursing up a storm over programmed robots any day of the week.

  When he opens his eyes again, his lids are heavy and his lips part just a little. “You’re seventeen, Honor. You can’t say shit like that to me.”

  “I’m eighteen tomorrow,” I remind him.

  “Trust me, I know that.” He releases me and takes a step back then runs his hand through his short dark hair. “Besides, this place has too many eyes.” He looks to his left and right as if making sure we’re still alone.

  “Not in my wing.” I point towards the doors that lead back into my private space.

  I don’t miss the fact that he never said no. Maybe he’s considering it? Anything that has his body on mine is going to make my panties explode. I decide to tease him just a bit more and see how far he’s willing to be pushed.

  “You’d be my first.” I play with the too-short hem of my shorts, and I’m not disappointed when his eyes go there. Is he thinking about all the ways he’d be my first?

  “Honor,” he says in warning then lets out a string of curses. I swear he’s trying to talk himself out of it. “Go change and I’ll tell you what happened to me.” He points to his stomach where the bleeding happened earlier.

  “Deal,” I agree, knowing that it’s better than nothing.

  I wanted a kiss, but being able to learn something about him, anything really, is better than nothing. I’ve been around him a long time, but he’s still such a mystery to me. Does it make me a little pathetic that I’m willing to trade my protest against my normal clothes for scraps of information from him? I decide not to dwell on it right now. I’ll think about it later. Instead I focus on the fact that I’ll get to spend extra time with Washington.

  When I enter, he follows me but stays in the living room while I go to my bedroom and shut the door. I pull off the shorts and flip-flops and replace them with a pair of black wide-leg pants and grab a cardigan to throw over my top. I slip into some black flats then walk into the main room. When I get there Washington is looking down at his phone. His head comes up as he slides his phone back into his pocket.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out the question without thinking. I’ve never had the courage to ask him before, but I can’t stop myself from doing it now.

  “That’s not the question I agreed to answer.” His voice is stern, but his eyes are soft.

  “Fine.” I decide not to push my luck. Instead I turn around in a slow circle. “I changed. Does this meet your approval?” It’s on the tip of my tongue to call him Daddy, but I hold it back.

  “I never said I didn't approve of the last one. I just don’t think others should see you in it.”

  “Others besides you?”

  “There you go, asking another question I didn't agree to answer.” I swear his lips are fighting a smile. His dark green eyes seem playful.

  “Okay, then tell me what happened.”

  “I was shot,” he says simply with a shrug of his shoulder. He says it so casually he could be talking about a paper cut. I’m shocked and unsure of what to say. “It’s fine.” He comes closer to me, and I must have a worried look on my face because he places his hands on my upper arms and leans down a little to look into my eyes. “Hey, I said it’s okay. It was a through and through. It just needs some time to heal.”

  He reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear, and the gesture is so familiar. As if we are more than what we really are—two people who barely know each other. For all the time we’ve been near one another we haven’t shared much. But it doesn’t stop me from loving his touch. Loving him. I can’t explain it. I don’t care that some would say it’s just a crush because we don’t know each other. But I do know how he makes me feel. And that isn’t something that’s ever changed. Not in three long years.

  “Are you sent on top secret missions?” I don't know a ton that goes on. My dad tries to shield a lot from me, but it’s impossibl
e to block everything from my eyes.

  “Not anymore.” His hand drops away from me and he takes a step back as if realizing what he’s doing.

  “So, what is it you do now?”

  “I was asked to watch over you until your dad gets back.” He puts his hands in his pockets and I wonder if it’s to keep from touching me? I can see the look in his eyes and it’s not as straight-laced as he would want everyone to believe.

  “I'm sorry,” I tell him as I lean against the seat closest to me and watch his eyes follow the curve of my hip.

  “I’m not.” His voice is lower than before, and he clears his throat.

  “I meant that you had to give up the missions. Not that you had to watch me.” I bite my lip to keep from smiling and watch as the corner of his mouth turns up.

  “I see. Well, it wasn’t what I wanted to do anymore.” As if he can’t help himself, he takes a step closer. His hands are still firmly buried in his pockets, but the muscles of his arms are strained.

  “So what is it you want to do?” My eyes trail down his tight black shirt to his trim waist. I begin to fantasize about what’s under there and if he’s got that sexy V on his hips that leads down to his cock. “You aren’t leaving, are you?” The thought springs into my head and I have to look up and meet his eyes. My heart begins to pound as the worry spreads.

  “Why? Would you miss me?” His words are teasing, and I’m surprised how much I like the sound of it. His cocky smile makes my fingers twitch. I’d love to run my thumb over his bottom lip.

  “Maybe a little,” I admit, trying to play it cool. “But you wouldn’t, would you?”

  “I have no idea, sweet pea. But if it’s up to your dad, then yeah, I’m staying.”

  Why do I love that he called me that? He’s not looking at me as if I’m some kid he’s having to babysit. I catch the way he’s licking his lips and the way his eyes linger on the hint of cleavage that I keep leaning forward to show him.

  “What if it’s up to me?” Emboldened, I step forward, and this time I’m the one to reach out and place my hand on his chest.