Текст книги "Protecting Her"

Автор книги: Alexis Noelle

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Protecting Her

By: Alexis Noelle

Table Of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Copyright

Copyright © 2015 Ashley Piscitelli

All rights Reserved. No parts of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter without written permission from the author, except for inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be given away to another person except when loaned out per Amazon lending program. If you’re reading this and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then it was pirated illegally. Please purchase a copy of your own and respect the hard work of this author.

Cover Image: Furious Fotog

Cover Design: Cover Me Darling

Acknowledgements

 

To all the people that help me I am so very thankful. Just to name a few Rachael Duncan, Stephanie Phillips, Kellie Montgomery, Golden Czermack, Marisa-Shor, Kaylee Ryan, Kathy Coopmans, Karrie Puskas, S Moose, and Rebecca Brooke. Also to my friends, family, and my husband thank you for you everyday support.

To the readers that love the story and the characters you are my rock stars!

 

Chapter One

Hunter

I look around the bar, trying to figure out which of these girls will be the lucky one tonight. I swear it gets harder and harder to find a good piece of ass that I haven’t hit before. Half of the girls in here are giving me the death stare because I’ve been there done that and didn’t want to put a ring on it. The other half have shot me down, which probably means they’re gay. I know people think I’m conceited and an asshole, but I really don’t give a shit. I may be twenty eight but that doesn’t mean I need to find a chick to tie myself down to.

Most people tell me I’m an asshole, and honestly they’re right. I have no interest in taking a chick out on a date, pretending like I give a shit what she is talking about and then lying and saying I’ll call her the next day. I would rather go to her place, fuck her good, and leave with no expectations of speaking to her again. If you think about it, I’m doing these chicks a favor by not leading them on.

As the bartender hands me my drink and change, a girl I’ve never seen before catches my eye at the end of the bar. She has shoulder length dark hair and legs for days. She isn’t dressed like most of the girls here with as little clothes on as possible, but she is sexier than any of them. Girls don’t understand that less isn’t always better, however, it sure makes it quicker when the chick isn’t wearing any panties. At that point, you really don’t even need to take the rest of their clothes off.

I walk over to the mystery girl, knowing that she is tonight’s conquest. When I position myself next to her at the bar, she looks over at me. “Hey, you’re new here, huh?”

Her eyes meet mine and they are this piercing green color. I wonder for a minute if they are contacts. “Is it that obvious?”

I lean in close to whisper in her ear. “Let me show you around the dance floor, you’ll be a regular by the time I’m done with you.” She pulls back to look at me and a smirk crosses her face. This one is gonna be fun.

“Okay, hot shot, let’s see what you got.”

I take her hand, leading her to the middle of the floor. Before she comes to a stop, I pull her against me, her ass pressed against my already throbbing dick. My hands run down her sides, resting on her hip bones. I grind against her, keeping her in place so she feels every inch of me. Her head leans back against my shoulder and I attack her neck with my mouth. When I nip at her skin, she yelps. Not expecting her to move, she escapes me and turns quickly in my arms. I brace myself for her to hit me or call me a dick, it’s been done before. Instead, she surprises me by hooking one of her legs around my waist, causing the dress she’s wearing to ride up dangerously close to her ass.

Her hands grip the hair at the nape of my neck before she leans back, my arm cradling her back, and grinds herself on me. I groan, not expecting her to be as forward as she is. This girl is desperate for my dick, and who am I to deny her? I can feel the heat radiating off of her. You would think I'm freeing her pussy from years of being locked away. I can’t take this shit anymore. Dancing is usually my tool to get them horny enough to want to fuck, but this chick doesn’t need any encouragement.

I take her hand, surprising her and jolting her from the sexual zone she had been in. We walk toward the back door, aiming for my car in the parking lot. She pulls my hand, bringing me to a stop and rests her back against the wall. “Where are we going?”

“To your place,” I trail my hand down her body, stopping on her pussy and stroking it. “That way I can give this pussy the dick you’ve been begging for.”

Her breath catches as I stroke her up and down. “I shouldn’t do this. I have someone at home waiting for me.”

“Yeah, and I have a fucking goldfish at home, sweetheart.” She looks at me, confusion prominent in her eyes. “Sorry, I thought we were talking about shit that didn’t matter.”

If I can’t go to her place, then we go to plan B. Before she can respond, I walk her back into the club. I find Matt, the owner, and slip him a hundred dollar bill. He nods at me and I pull her up the steps, practically running from the anticipation of sinking myself into her. I open the door to Matt’s office. He and I went to college together and there have been a handful of times that I didn’t want to let a chick go but couldn’t go back to her place. Since I refuse to let these girls know where I live, half of them would probably show up at my door with Voodoo dolls, Matt has let me use his office for a fee.

As soon as we enter his office, I kick the door shut and have her up against it in seconds.  Keeping one hand on her hip, I reach over and turn the lock. Gripping her ass, I  lift her up, causing her legs to wrap around me. Her perky tits are right in front of my face. “Pull your dress down.” She doesn’t respond but immediately pulls the straps of her dress and bra down her arms. “Stop,” I say before she can free herself from her bra. I run my tongue over the outline of her bra, causing her to shiver and grind her pussy against my cock.

I grip the flimsy lace in my teeth, pulling down and causing her tit to pop out. When I take her nipple in my mouth she moans, and it is so damn sexy. I can’t take not being inside her anymore and carry her over to the black leather couch. I let her slide down my front, slowly letting my fingers drag over her skin. Without a word, I spin her around and push her down so her stomach is resting on the arm of the couch. “You better find something to hold onto, cause there is no way this will be nice and fucking easy.”

I pull my cock out, rip open a condom, slip it over my dick and without hesitation, sink myself into her soaking wet pussy. God, she is fucking tight. My dick is practically screaming from the grip her muscles have on it. I start to drive into her hard, using my grip on her hips to slam her into me, only intensifying each thrust. She screams each time I enter her, and I can see her fingers digging into the leather.

I am never a fucking minute man but this girl has me ready to burst already. I reach around, stroking her clit as I change to slow, hard, grinds into her. When she screams and her pussy tightens around me, I thank God. I let go, experiencing the best orgasm I’ve had in fucking forever.

After my breathing slows down, I pull out of her, eliciting a sigh. She stands up and turns to me as I’m straightening out my clothes. “Well thanks, I’ll see you later.”

Her face twists with anger. “Seriously? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what you thought this was. I’m not your fucking fairytale. I’m not the wine and dine type. I’m the fuck ‘em and forget ‘em type.”

“You’re a fucking asshole.” She crosses her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide her bare chest and show me that she’s pissed off.

“Yeah, I am. Have a good night. I know I did.” I open the door, giving her a smile before walking out, leaving her there.

I know I’m an asshole, but honestly, I just don’t give a shit.

Chapter Two

Samantha

“Samantha.” Do I really have to do this? “Samantha!” Maybe if I hide in here long enough she’ll just go away. “Samantha Baker, I will not call your name again.” Kill me now. Even at twenty four my mom still scares the shit out of me, which is the only reason I open the door.

I step out of the dressing room, already red from embarrassment. “Why do I need to dress like this Mom? I mean, I’m not sure at this point that I won’t get fined by the FCC for nudity.” I look in the mirror and hate the image looking back at me. My long blonde hair is pin straight, stopping just below my boobs. Speaking of the girls, all that is covering them are some small circles of fabric, which I’m still not convinced will stay in place. There are pieces of fringe connecting each circle and draping around my back. As for my bottom half, I get the pleasure of wearing a black thong with the same offending string barely covering my bare ass.

“We need the shock factor. We don’t want people to forget about you or call you boring, now do we?” No. But I also don’t want them calling me a slut. I simply nod my head in response, knowing by now there is no use arguing with my mom, even when it concerns my life or my career.

She has been my manager since she helped me get my “big break” when I was twelve. That turned into her always knowing what was best and controlling my every move. It’s so suffocating and if I didn’t love performing so much, I swear I would just quit.

“Now, we have fifteen minutes until you need to go on stage. Just remember—“A knock raps on the door, cutting off her directions. “That must be the private security we hired for you.” My team has insisted that I hire a personal bodyguard, not that anyone asked me if that’s what I wanted. I have gotten a few creepy letters and they are concerned, not that anyone will tell me what the damn things say. I turn back toward the mirror, trying to convince myself this isn’t as bad as I think it is. I can hear my mom talking to the new goon but I couldn’t care less.

“Samantha, don’t be rude.” I turn around, putting on the best polite smile I can manage. “This is Hunter Stone.”

“Holy Fuck.” My mouth drops open, my hand covering it quickly as I realize what shitty luck I have. It’s him. The asshole from last night. Mr. Fuck ‘em and forget ‘em. My blood boils as I stare holes through him. The fact that I let him so blatantly use me makes me feel ashamed of myself. The asshole doesn’t even flinch though, he seems so unaffected. Does he not recognize me? I mean, sure I had the wig on, but I don’t think it makes that much of a difference. His eyes finally tear away from my body and meet my mine, and that’s when I see realization set in.

“Watch your mouth, young lady.” I look over at my mother and am about to tell her to send him back. Then I realize she will ask how I know him. I would have to admit that I snuck out, went to a club unattended, and had a one-night stand with this loser. Who am I more afraid to be around? The douche, or my mother? Definitely my mother. “Now, I am going to make sure everything is set up for you. Mr. Stone, please be sure to escort my daughter everywhere. She is not to be out of your sight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Who the fuck is he kidding? He has no damn manners.

She leaves and I expect the groveling to start. Him to beg me not to have him fired. To forgive him. “So, you look hot in the light too? That’s a real accomplishment, sweetheart. Most of these club skanks are barely tolerable once you turn the lights on.”

He did not just fucking call me a club skank. “Listen to me, dickhead. You’re on my turf now and—“

“Turf? This isn’t West Side Story babe, and I’m still not playing the part you want me to.” He smirks at me and I want nothing more than to smack the smile off of his stupid fucking face.

“I can have you fired, you know.” I try to assert myself, crossing my arms over my chest but feeling more insecure and unsure than I have in a long time.

“I thought that you would have; however, my guess is that mommy dearest would kick your ass for being out without her. Not only that, but having a one-night stand with a guy like me? Not how a lady should act, Samantha.” He wiggles his finger at me in a mocking manner, and I clench my fists in anger.

A knock at the door saves me from looking like an idiot because I have no idea what the hell my response would have been. “Miss Baker, they’re ready for you.”

I nod at the assistant and then walk toward the door. As I pass Hunter, he grabs my hand, making me pause in front of him. “Don’t pretend you’re not thinking of how quickly I could shred all of those little strings you’re wearing and send you spiraling. I know I am.” His hand smacks my ass.

Before I know what I’m doing, I smack him across the face. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I grit out through clenched teeth.

He rubs his cheek, half smiling before his head dips down close to my ear. “Baby, soon you’ll be on your knees begging me to touch your hungry pussy.” He straightens up and holds the door open. “After you, Miss Baker.” His comment pisses me off and turns me on at the same time. My body and my mind are in disagreement when it comes to this piece of work.

We walk down the hallway to the stage, the only noise between us  the clicking of my hooker heels and the resounding cheers from the waiting crowd. I stand at my spot under the stage and take a deep breath. As the platform starts to rise, my nerves begin to calm. Performing has always been my safe place. That is until my mother decided slutty party songs were the way to go. I miss writing. I miss really singing. A song doesn’t mean anything without emotion. This performance doesn’t do much for me except make me want to hide tomorrow when the tabloids are tearing me apart. I push through it, giving the sexy looks, shaking my ass, and swinging my hair on cue. I pray that a day comes that I can do what I want again. That my mom finally realizes I used to do this because it made me happy. Now I do it because it makes her happy.

Before I know it, the song is over and Hunter is waiting for me. He walks me back to the dressing room and I think that this arrangement might actually work if he could keep his mouth shut. We get into the room and I kick off the heels, groaning as my feet get relief. Hunter is suddenly behind me, his hands on my hips, pressing me against him. I want to pull away from him but there is something about his touch that makes me lose all common sense. That’s what happened last night; it’s like I can’t think when he is this close. His hand skims down my side before cupping me, making me gasp as he brushes over my clit.

“You know those sexy ass shoes would look much better in the air while I’m fucking you. Holding these long legs above your head while you scream my name. Too bad I don’t mix business with pleasure.” He releases me and opens the door. “I’ll be waiting out here for you to change, Miss Baker.”

When he shuts it, I want to scream at the top of my lungs, half from aggravation and half from sexual frustration.

I. Fucking. Hate. Him.

Chapter Three

Samantha

I get dressed slowly, not in any hurry to go back out there and face Hunter. It would be my luck that out of all the people in the world, he would get assigned to be my security. My mother laid out this intricate outfit but I just don’t feel like putting it on. I grab a pair of yoga pants, and a bright pink t-shirt; if I have to have him annoying me the rest of the night, then I damn sure want to be comfortable while he does it.

I felt so cheap after he walked out on me that night. I mean, I get that I slept with him shortly after meeting him, but he didn’t need to treat me like shit. I still can’t believe I did that. It’s so out of character for me. I have only had sex with two other guys and both of them stemmed from longer relationships. There was just something about Hunter that made me lose all control over my emotions, and my body. The worst part is that he knows it.

I take a deep breath and open the door. His back is to me and I can’t help but glance down at his ass. Jesus, I didn’t know men could have an ass like that. His voice jolts me and I jump. “You can look, but don’t touch.” I give him the finger before pushing past him and walking down the hallway. “Slow down, cupcake.”

I press the elevator button and turn to face him, looking around to make sure no one is close and paying attention to us. “Cupcake? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The doors slide open and both of us walk in. Hunter still hasn’t answered me, so I look over at him. Once the doors close, he backs me into the corner of the elevator. Our faces are only an inch apart and it’s like I’m getting drunk just being this close to him. He grabs my ass, lifting me up and balancing me on the railing that surrounds the elevator. His hands snake around to the front of my thighs, his thumbs pressing down and massaging me. I get wet instantly and the closer he gets to my clit the more I writhe from the sensation. His hands freeze as his head dips down to kiss my neck before nipping at it, causing me to yelp. “I called you cupcake because that’s what your pussy is like to me. So. Fucking. Sweet. But I can’t allow myself to have it more than once.” His hands trail up my body before they hook under my arms and place me back on the floor. “Close your mouth cupcake, you might catch flies.”

Why the hell do I keep letting him get me worked up? I swear he is like a fucking drug, he is so bad for me but I love the high he gives me. My body is so heated and screaming for release, I hope my damn vibrator has batteries in it. How am I going to survive being around him? The elevator dings and I step out, hoping my face isn’t too red.

“Samantha!” Fuck. I thought she left. I turn to face hurricane Mom. “What are you doing in pajamas?”

“Mom, they’re not pajamas,” I say, exhausted from the day’s events, Hunter playing with my emotions, and my mother being my mother. “They are normal clothes, that normal people wear on a daily basis. They’re comfortable.”

“Well, do I need to remind you that you aren’t normal? No one will want to take a picture with you looking ‘comfortable’. They want the star, and it’s your job to give it to them.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be the star anymore. Maybe I want to be a girl. Maybe I want to have a life that doesn’t have every second planned out for me.” I try to keep my voice from shaking. I walk away from her, not wanting to say anymore. I know she thinks she is doing what is best for me, but I’m suffocating. I can feel the tears building and I just want to get into the car before they start to fall. People see you in the news and on TV and think you have everything. Yes, I’m so blessed to be where I am and to have what I do. On the other side, I’m a prisoner. I have no say in my own life.

The doors open and there is a sea of people behind the barricades. The flashes blind me and I focus my eyes on the floor. Hunter’s arm loops through mine in an attempt to guide me, and I follow him. I hear a clash of metal and Hunter curse under his breath.

When I look behind us, I see that the barricade fell and we are now surrounded by people. We are still about ten feet from the van and there is nowhere to go. The crowd is closing in, everyone yelling my name from one direction or another.

“What the fuck!” Hunter yells next to me, trying to get to the security guards and push through people. “Come here.” Fear sets in as I see the crowd moving toward us. He picks me up, holding me against his chest and I feel safe in his arms. Even if he is an asshole, I have this comforting feeling that he won’t let anything happen to me. I hate how he makes me feel. He turns and begins to back into the crowd, pushing his way through people. I feel him beginning to put me down and look next to us to see the truck. Thank God.

He holds the door open for me and climbs in after I do. “Holy shit! Is that fucking normal?”

“I don’t know what normal is anymore,” I say, as I stare out of the window. Normal is having no friends because everyone wants something from you. Normal is not being able to date because most guys just want to say they had sex with Samantha Baker. Normal isn’t a word I know anymore.

“Hey,” I feel his hand touch my arm. “Are you okay?” I nod my head. “Okay, Joe is going to stop by a drive through. What do you want to eat?”

“Nothing.” My mood has dropped severely. The only thing I want is my bed, not that it will be my bed because I’ve been in a different hotel every night.

“You need to eat something. I mean, I got here around lunch time and it’s almost nine now. You have to eat.”

I turn to him, puzzled by the rough edge to his tone.

“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. Besides my mother would have me committed for even thinking of eating that junk. If you’re hungry though, feel free to stop.” I resume my previous position, turned away from him and staring out of the window.

The car goes through the drive through and both Joe and Hunter get something to eat. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t salivating just from the smell inside the car. I wanted to get something, but my mother’s words haunt me every time I eat. I look over at him as her words play in my head.

Stick with the salad, you know anything else will go straight to your thighs.

No one wants to look at a fatty, Samantha.

One mistake is all it takes.

Make me proud.

My stomach grumbles and I know Hunter hears it when he turns to me. He raises an eyebrow as he seems to assess me but he doesn’t say anything.

When we get to the hotel, I go straight up to the suite. I need a long bath and honestly I really need some sexual gratification. Hunter walks me upstairs but when I try to close the door to the room, he pushes it open and steps inside.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, having no energy to play games.

“Going to bed, same as you.”

“Then you need to go to your room.” I open the door and look at him expectantly.

“I am in my own room. Your mom said she is booking suites with two rooms so that you’re never alone. I guess that means you’re stuck with me, cupcake.” He winks before retreating with our bags.

My mother hates me.