Holding His Forever Read online

  “Grr. Where are these stupid keys?” I mumble to myself, digging deeper into my seemingly bottomless bag.

  “Front left pocket.”

  I roll my eyes, only because Elle isn’t here to see it. I can hear the smug tone in her voice. I reach into the front left pocket and pull out my keys.

  “It’s creepy when you do that.”

  “No, what’s creepy is the stalker who seems to only be getting worse.” I hear the worry in her voice. I’d probably be the same way if this was directed at her. But a stalker for me just seems strange. If anyone should be stalked, it’s her. Some of the letters she would get when her modeling career was in full swing went from weird— like wanting to shave off all their hair and send it to her—to crazy, men offering her the world if they married her. Even telling her they wouldn’t make her sign a prenup. You should see the way men get all dreamy eyed around her. It’s actually kind of funny. How they follow her around like lost puppies with no brain. I’ve seen firsthand the smartest of men go utterly dumb in her presence. I’ve worked with some of the most intelligent, gifted men in America, but when Elle would show up to drop something off for me, they’d go from brilliant to incapable of putting a sentence together.

  I insert my key in the door, turn it, and the alarm to my condo starts to sound. I hit the disarm button on my keychain before dropping the keys back into my bag, not into my left front pocket. Just a little rebellion because Elle can’t see me.

  “Okay. I’ll meet with someone.” I give in easily because there really isn’t much of a choice. Fighting Elle on something she wants is like fighting a brick wall. It’s better to spend your energy elsewhere.

  I flip the lock back in place and turn, hitting a concrete wall of a man.

  “Good, he’s already there,” I hear Elle say as my eyes travel up and up an endless span of chest. Up, up, up, until my eyes finally land on a hard face with a clenched jaw.

  I blow my hair out of my face, trying to get a better look at him. Jesus. He’s hot in that oh-my-God-he-could-crush-me way. Wait, is that hot?

  It’s then I realize he has his hands locked on my shoulders, holding me in place. I likely would have landed on my ass as hard as I ran into him if he hadn’t grabbed me. My body presses against his, and I watch his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, like he’s breathing me in.

  His arms release me, and one hand goes to the glasses on my face, fixing them.

  “What’s he made of? Concrete and sex?” I whisper into the phone like the man in front of me can’t hear me. He has the words “Hart Security” on his chest. I watch as he takes two steps back from me.

  “Is he hot?” my sister asks, seeming to have perked up at my words.

  “Hot is putting it mildly.”

  The man in front of me narrows his eyes as they travel down my body. I’m short, with lots of curves, and for the first time in my life, I wonder if a man likes what he sees when looking at me. My sister always gets the male attention. This isn’t new to me, nor does it bother me. It is what it is.

  It’s how it's always been. She’s tall, blonde, and has the bluest eyes. She’s also skinny as hell, even though she could out-eat me. I’m the complete opposite. Short, lots of curves, with brown hair and eyes. I tend to blend in. I actually enjoy this since I’m not the best conversationalist. I have this problem where I have no mouth-to-brain filter, and that seems to make others uncomfortable. I’ve seen Elle cringe on occasion from the things that have slipped out of my mouth. It doesn’t bother me like it seems to everyone else, though.

  Just like Mr. Sex here, who has already taken a few steps back from me.

  “Wow. He’s got to be amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call someone hot.”

  My stomach flutters at her words. They ring true. No, I don’t think I can ever recall a time when I thought a man was hot. Symmetrical, maybe, but he definitely isn’t that. His nose looks like it’s been broken a time or two and a small scar runs across his right cheek.

  I wonder if he has more. I take a step towards him, wondering if he’ll let me see. I have no idea why I have the need to know if he has more. It doesn’t make sense. I always have a reason for doing things and thinking things.

  “Do you have more scars? Can I see them?”

  I hear his intake of breath, and then Elle bursts into giggles.

  “Did you just imply you wanted him to get naked?” Elle says through laughter.

  The man in front of me clenches his fists, and I wonder if this is another one of those times I’m making someone uncomfortable again.

  “I…” I pause to think about it for a second. I didn’t think about him having to undress for me to see more of him, but now I like the idea. I lick my lips.

  “Let me talk to him,” Elle says, still giggling.

  I clench the phone in my hand for a second before I pull it from my ear. I’m thankful she isn’t here in person, and I instantly feel guilty for that thought. I love my sister, but the idea of her getting this man’s attention, a man I don’t even know, bothers me. That can’t be normal.

  I hit speakerphone and let her know she’s good to go.

  “Mr. Hart, it’s Elle. We talked on the phone this morning. I just wanted to thank you again for taking the job personally and not handing it off to someone else. I’m told you’re the best.”

  “Ms. Barber, the security here is shit. I got in past the alarms completely unnoticed. The doorman didn’t even give me a second look.” His eyes lock on mine again for the first time since I was plastered to his body. “Furthermore, your sister seems to have no fucking problem with a man she doesn’t even know standing in her home.”

  The last bit comes out in a yell and makes my eyes widen.

  “I’ll call you back.” I click the end button on the phone screen before narrowing my eyes at Mr. Hulk-man over there. Where the Hulk turns green and gets all giant, this guy seems to go all red and appear even larger than his massive self.

  “Listen here, Hulk. You can take your incredible body and vacate my home. I won’t be needing your services.”

  My face warms a little at the word services.

  He takes two steps towards me, crowding my space, a space he didn’t seem to want any part of a little while ago. He lowers himself so we’re nose to nose.

  “Sorry, cupcake. Contract’s signed. You’re mine.”

  Chapter 2

  Drake

  Leaning into her, I catch the smell of sweet sugar. She smells like cakes, and it makes my mouth water. I wonder if she tastes as good as she smells. I’m annoyed that I can’t keep the thought out of my head as I try to concentrate on the situation.

  Elle Barber sent an email to us early this week requesting security for her sister. I’d never heard of her, but apparently two of the guys that work for me had, and they let me know right away they would love to take over the case. My partner, Daniel Pinkoski aka Pink, was in the dark like me. But after one of guys Googled her for us, I think Pink may have swallowed his tongue. He hasn’t said a damn word since he saw her picture, and I’m beginning to wonder if he’s in shock.

  Seeing Elle didn’t do a thing for me. I was more concerned about why she thought her sister needed security and not her. After all, Elle is the famous former model. I don’t know why models have to be so skinny. Give me a big girl, thick with curves, and I’m a happy man. I want a woman with a little chunk to her. Something soft for me to cuddle against, not that I’ve ever cuddled a woman before. But maybe I’m just describing Zoey, because ever since I laid eyes on her picture, she’s the only thing I’ve been able to see, and thoughts of her in my bed pulled at me as I ran my hands all over her.

  Elle sent over a package of information including a picture of Zoey. The second I saw her, I knew this case wasn’t for anyone but me. Fucking gorgeous was all I could think. It took me a good ten minutes of staring at her picture before I moved on to what else was in the file. Emails and screenshots of harassing texts, several complaints
filed with the police department stating her apartment had been broken into but nothing was stolen, reports detailing accounts of stalker behavior but with no other witness to give further details.

  What had me worried the most was the fear I could hear in Elle’s voice when she told me about what was happening. She’s scared for her sister, and I don’t blame her. The stalker was being more aggressive. What first looked like a little online bulling that I thought might be linked to getting information on something Zoey was working on started to morph into an obsession for whoever was doing this. I’ve seen this before, and things like this never end well, but I’m not going to let that be the case here. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Zoey safe, and from what her sister said, it’s going to be a fight to get Zoey on board with any plans I might have.

  I was with the Dallas police department in investigations for five years before joining their SWAT team. After a drug raid one night, when I took a bullet to my knee, I was permanently off the force. I was able to get back about seventy-five percent of the use of my leg, but it wasn’t enough to let me back on the team. So I started a security firm with some friends, and it’s been doing great. The guys on the force send a lot of business my way, and we take on private cases when we can.

  After I talked with Elle on the phone, I let her know I would personally handle the case and make sure that Zoey got the full treatment. She’d get live-in bodyguard protection until we caught the stalker. I wouldn’t leave her side until there was closure on the situation. It wasn’t enough to make sure it went away. I needed to make sure it never happened again. For some reason, just looking at her picture made me feel protective of her. The thought of anything happening to her made my blood run cold.

  Luckily, I don’t have anything keeping me from staying with Zoey for as long as it takes. I’ve always been kind of a loner. My dad skipped out on my mom and me when I was little, and my mom died two years ago from a heart attack. She drank like a fish and smoked like a chimney, but it was fast when she passed, thankfully. The only family I have now is my boy Pink, but he comes from a big German family that’s always making him eat, and I try not to get up in his business. I know he just wants me to join in on their fun, but having never really had much of a family, I always feel awkward and don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around them. It’s better he just goes and does his family thing and we hang out after.

  Getting into Zoey’s apartment was a fucking joke. The doorman was asleep at the counter when I went by, only slightly stirring when the ding of the elevator went off. Getting into her apartment and bypassing the security was just as easy. The system isn’t a bad one, but putting four zeros as your passcode isn’t smart. For all this talk about this chick being a genius, she didn’t seem to think that through.

  “Cupcake? What does that mean?”

  She doesn’t flinch at my words. Instead, she tries to get closer to me. This chick looks way too innocent to be trying to pull one over on me. What’s her motive, I wonder, narrowing my eyes at her.

  “It means I’m here as your hired bodyguard, which also means I’m staying here. My name is Drake Hart, and I’m in charge of your security.” I make my words firm, brooking no argument. Her sister said it might be hard to get Zoey to agree to the security, and normally I wouldn't take a case like that. I don’t want to be chasing after someone who doesn't want our services, but with her, I’ve found myself making an exception. The need to make sure she is safe is riding me hard. I can’t let someone hurt her It is clear she needs someone to watch over her and I am going to make sure that person is me. “Want to show me to your spare bedroom?”

  “Aren’t you going to sleep with me?” she says, tilting her head to the side, still looking up at me.

  My cock got hard the second she walked in the door, but I swear to God, I just popped a button on my jeans. The damn thing is going to bust through any second if she keeps talking to me like this. Fuck, to be in her bed with her…I wonder if her sheets smell as good as she does.

  Looking into her eyes, I see no seduction or hidden agenda. She genuinely thinks that I’m supposed to sleep with her. “And why would I do that?” I nearly choke out before taking a deep breath, trying to pull myself back.

  “If you’re here to protect me, day and night, the closest place to do that is by my side. You could show me your scars then.”

  She looks down my cheek and over my body unapologetically, and I’m once again stunned by her bold talk. What the fuck? How has this curvy goddess not got a ring on her finger? Following her forward lead, I go for it.

  “Why aren’t you married?”

  “I’ve never found anyone I wanted to test intercourse with.” Her words are simple and to the point. Almost like I should just know this.

  Someone could come in and knock me over with a feather right now. Is this girl telling me she’s untouched? Jesus Christ.

  “You always this forward?” I ask to see what she says. Seems she likes the truth. No beating around things.

  “I guess so. Most people hate it. I say what I think. I think my mind works a bit different than most. I guess I’m sorry if I offended you. But I don’t see how. I was just answering your questions.”

  I feel myself smile a little, and I let out a breath. “No. I like it. Cuts through the bullshit.”

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  Everything For Her… December 2016

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