Rock the Bodyguard (6 page)

“Look at me.” He spoke quietly and
calmly, which was more scary to Cash than his earlier rumblings. She had the
sense that she was in quicksand, stuck in lies that would surely drag her down
to a sticky end. The only thing for it was to take the quicksand survival
method, stay as still as possible and hope help arrived in time.

She glanced at him quickly, then
looked away again. “I don't want to look at you,” she said. “You just hit me
for nothing.”

“I smacked you because you were
being disobedient.”

She cringed, his voice sounded very
loud in the quiet space. “Keep it down,” she hissed. “Strangers are already
going through my panty drawer. I don't need the whole world knowing everything
about me.”

A muscle ticked in Miles' jaw as he
stood and beckoned for her to follow. He didn't even speak, he just crooked a
long, muscular finger at her and she slipped off her bar stool. She knew she
was in trouble, she could feel it in her bones – and in her bottom for that
matter. As they left the lobby, Cash made very sure to stay behind Miles and
not present the soft target to him until they reached the new room.

To Cash's annoyance, it wasn't
anything like her suite. It was just a room, a large and well-appointed room
with two king sized beds in it, but still a room. “What is this?”

“The best they can do at short
notice, and easier to secure than an entire suite,” Miles explained.

“You can get some rest and tomorrow
you can move back, once we've done a complete sweep of the place.”

Cash sat on the end of the bed.
“This isn't fair,” she complained. “I don't want to sleep here.”

“What's wrong with it?”

“It's not my room. It's too small.
I don't like it.” She rattled off three reasons in quick succession, crossing
her arms over her chest.

“You must be tired,” he said,
giving her a wry smile that made her heart flutter in spite of her irritation
and yes, fatigue. “You get grumpy when you're tired.”

“I do not.”

“It's time to go to bed, Miss
Raine,” he said firmly.

“Where will you be?”

“There are two beds here,” he
pointed out simply. “You can keep the one you're sitting on. I'll take the
other.”

So she was going to be spending the
night with Miles. In separate beds, but still spending the night in the same
room as him. Cash's spirits rose, realizing she was probably going to see him
in his pajamas, maybe less. This was the opportunity she'd been waiting for,
and break in or no, Cash was not the sort of person to turn down a chance to
get what she wanted. “Well,” she said. “If you insist.”

“I do,” he said.

“You're the boss,” she said
demurely, making a move to remove her sweater.

“What are you doing?”

She paused with her sweater half
off her head, looking at Miles with just one eye. “Getting ready for bed,
you're not going to make me sleep in my clothes, are you?”

“Go get changed in the bathroom,”
he said. “You can sleep in your t-shirt.”

“Since when does a bodyguard tell
his client what she can and cannot wear?” Cash gave him what she hoped was an
imperious look. “If I wish to sleep in the nude, that is my affair.”

“Cash,” he said, his patience
obviously starting to wane. “You're making this difficult.”

“Am I?” She shrugged and flung the
light cashmere sweater across the room. “Well you're used to difficulties,
aren't you?” She lowered her hands to the hem of her t-shirt and fixed him with
a determined look as she began drawing it up and over her head. She tossed it
into another corner of the room and stood in her brassiere, smirking at him.

“Miss Raine, you are dangerously close
to a very sore bottom,” he said, his voice all gravelly and low. “I suggest you
pick up your t-shirt and go and get changed in the bathroom.”

“No,” she said, asserting herself.
“I think I'll sleep in the nude tonight.”

“Good,” he said, folding his arms
over his chest. “It's better to spank a naked girl anyway.”

“You wouldn't dare,” she said,
reaching for the single clasp that nestled between her breasts. “It wouldn't be
professional.”

“You take that off and I'll give
you the most professional spanking that's in my power to give.”

She popped the clasp and let the
brassiere fall from her shoulders. It was a bluff. He was threatening her, but
he had no intention of actually going through with his threats. Sure, he was
now approaching her with a grim expression, but that didn't mean anything... oh
and now he was taking her by the wrist as he sat down on the bed and okay, now
she was tumbling forward over his lap and... “Stop it!” She squealed as he
hooked powerful fingers in the waistband of her pants and panties and pulled
them down in one smooth movement. Suddenly naked and very exposed over his lap,
Cash realized she'd made a terrible mistake.

“I told you what would happen,
didn't I?” He wrapped his shirt-clad arm around her waist, holding her easily
as his palm made swift and stinging contact with her bare bottom. She squirmed,
feeling the cloth of his pants underneath her bare and very sensitive lower
torso.

“Please Miles, I'm sorry,” she
started to babble as she realized the full extent of her predicament. He could
probably see everything, everything between her legs... everything between her
cheeks. She was entirely exposed to him and he was spanking her as if nothing
were amiss. It occurred to her that he didn't particularly seem to care that
she was naked. A firm slap against her left cheek interrupted her thoughts and
she squealed. “It hurts!”

“Good,” he said. “Perhaps next time
I tell you something, you'll listen.”

“Miles! Stop!” Cash pleaded with
the big man spanking her bottom quite mercilessly.

But Miles did not stop. Miles
spanked her over and over again until her cheeks felt hot and red, until her
legs kicked and parted of their own accord. With every new slap she became
increasingly tender, her bottom sending signals of pain that jolted through her
entire body, her hips pressing against the hard ridge of his thigh.

Then something happened. She was
kicking just as his hand landed again and her hips rode forward and for a
brief, unexpectedly delicious moment, her clit brushed against the fabric of
his pants. In an instant, the pain was transformed into something else,
something much closer to pleasure. Oh it still hurt, but it didn't matter so
much that it hurt. When his palm landed again, she made sure that her hips were
in the same position and again a delightful shock of pleasure went shooting
through her loins.

Cash bit her lip to stifle the moan
of pleasure that rose. She didn't want Miles to notice that she was starting to
enjoy herself. After all there was no way for him to know that she was becoming
almost immune to his slaps, or to know that her arousal was making her thoughts
drift to sinful places. There was no way for him to know any of that. He
thought he was punishing her, silly man.

The next slap landed hard on her
upper thigh and elicited a squeal of surprise from Cash. There was no pleasure
in that slap which caught virgin skin and put no pressure on the throbbing bud
between her legs. She craned her neck around and glared up at him. “What was
that for?”

“You know precisely what that was
for,” he said, easing her up from his lap with a knowing look.

The move completely denied her the
pleasure of pressing against his leg and she pouted, until she saw a little wet
spot on his pants. Then she blushed and hoped that he hadn't noticed it. She
was so embarrassed that she didn't even protest as he lead her, naked and red
bottomed, to a corner of the room and bade her stand there. She was glad for
the relative privacy of the converging walls as he moved away.

It was only when she'd been
standing in the corner for a minute or so that the full extent of the
punishment sank in with burning hot fury. Her bottom felt swollen and it ached,
so she put her hand back to try to ease away some of the overwhelming
sensation. As her fingers made contact with her tender rump she inhaled
sharply, a sound that cut through the silence in the room.

“Cut it out, Cash, no rubbing!”
Miles' censure was sharp and swift. So much for the reserved gentlemanly facade
he liked to present to the world, once he got going he was a tyrant. Cash
returned her hands to her sides, eager to avoid any further demonstrations of
his ire. She couldn't rub her bottom, but nothing could stop the devilish
little smile that played across her lips as she pressed her thighs together.
She was slick and wet and her bottom was not the only thing still throbbing.
Spanked and sore, Cash had never been so aroused in all her life.

Miles went into the bathroom and
splashed water on his face. His mind was full of the image of Cash's cute round
bottom and the pink lips that lay between her thighs, lips that had gotten
larger and more dewy as the spanking went on, opening up like a perfect flower
dripping nectar onto his thigh. It had taken all his strength and resolve not
to pet that soft, wet spot, to part those lips and feel the hot, silky interior
that surely lay beyond them. He looked in the mirror, giving himself the steely
look he usually reserved for the badly behaved.

“Don't you dare,” he growled at his
reflection.

It took several minutes for him to
regain his composure and deflate in strategic regions. When he stepped out of
the bathroom, it became apparent that Cash hadn't heard him enter the room. She
hadn't heard him because she was distracted. He knew she was distracted because
he could hear her panting in a pretty, feminine way – and he could see that one
hand was busy between her thighs. She was playing with herself, right there in
the hotel room, her lissome thighs trembling with pleasure.

“Cash!” Her name whip cracked
through the room.

She squeaked and moved her hand
away swiftly. He smirked slightly. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying the
situation quite so much, but there was a certain joy in playing the role of
dominant, even if Cash didn't know that was what he was doing. Miles swept up
her panties from the floor and handed them to her over her shoulder, followed
by her t-shirt. “Get dressed and get into bed,” he said, keeping his voice
stern.

Cash obeyed him quickly, pulling
the panties up over her long, slim thighs. It was necessary to bend as she did,
her puffy pussy lips clearly engorged from her attentions, her tight little
sphincter winking at him briefly before being covered with silky fabric. The
t-shirt followed in quick succession and then she scurried into bed, all
without meeting his eye.

“You will go to sleep now, Miss
Raine,” Miles said, switching out the main light, leaving the room lit by the
muted glow of a lamp. “You will not leave this room until I give you permission.
Do you understand?”

She curled up under the blanket,
lying on her side. He could see the curve of her deserving behind prominent
under the covers and was forced to resist the urge to lay yet another slap upon
it.

“Yes sir,” she murmured softly.

“Good night, Miss Raine.”

*
* * * *

Cash's hyper-sexed hijinks were a
pleasant distraction, but they were not Miles' main concern. Miles' main
concern remained the break in. Someone had been watching. Someone had been
waiting. Someone had taken advantage of Mattie's injuries to not just get into
Cash's suite, but to make a point.

Whilst Cash slept late into the
next day, Kevin and Miles got to work. Kevin seemed to have recovered from the
shock of the night before and nothing was said about his reaction. Miles wasn't
sure he'd know how to begin addressing the issue, and there were bigger fish to
fry.

Security footage showed a shadowy
figure in dark clothing, balaclava and a hood making his way into Cash's suite.
The clothing was baggy enough not to give away much besides height, which
appeared to be somewhere in the 5'8 to 6'0 range. Kevin and Miles watched the
footage over and over again, becoming more concerned with each passing view.

“This isn't about harm,” Miles said
grimly. “This is about trying to scare Cash.”

Kevin shot him a sidelong glance.
“Did it work?”

Shaking his head, Miles was glad
that the answer was negative. Cash had been outraged by the idea of someone in
her suite, but she hadn't been scared. “She didn't see the worst of it. And
she's easily distracted.”

“Distracted? By what?”

“Just, girl things,” Miles said
vaguely. “She was very tired. She went right to sleep.”

“Well I don't want her finding out
the full extent of what happened,” Kevin said. “I need her mind on the tour. So
keep it quiet and play it down if she asks about it.”

“Don't worry,” Miles said. “I'm not
going to let her be terrorized. But this means lock down. I want Cash and
Mattie in the suite tonight. And I'm beefing up security here too.”

“Wait.” Kevin stopped him. “You
want Mattie in the suite too? Why?”

“Because she's coming on the tour,
because she's injured and she needs to be watched.”

Kevin smirked like he knew
something. “Don't tell me you're softening toward her.”

“I'm not softening on anything.
She's a variable.”

“And you like to control
variables,” Kevin said, nodding. “You haven't changed a bit, Miles.”

“No, I haven't,” Miles agreed.

Their subsequent inspection of the
suite did not make Miles any happier. The word 'WHORE' was smeared across a
wall, in what the officer on scene told them was likely animal blood. The word
'DIE' had been likewise daubed across the silk coverlet of Cash's bed. Her
belongings did not seem to have been touched, which was strange.

“We need to check everything,”
Miles said. “Check for razors, needles and other sharp objects.”

“Razors?”

“Whoever was in here had a field
day,” Miles said grimly. “And they were prepared. They brought animal blood.
God knows what else they left in here.”

The rest of the morning was spent
picking through Cash's things. Miles found himself in the position of going
through her lingerie drawer. There was nothing lascivious in it as he was
wearing thick gloves and using elongated metal tweezers. He did not enjoy the
task overmuch, and he knew Cash would not be pleased if she knew what he was up
to. Or perhaps she would be, and perhaps that would be worse.

A forensic cleaning team was next
to go over the suite. Before Cash stirred around two in the afternoon, the
suite was returned to its former glory. Every single item of linen was
replaced, every foodstuff and beverage discarded. Miles had even gone so far as
to insist that every stick of furniture was switched out and even decorative
items and pot plants were changed. When all was done, it looked as though
nothing had happened at all.

*
* * * *

Cash woke with a slow ache in her
bottom and a slick wetness between her thighs. Discovering that she was alone
in the hotel room, she set about finishing what she had been too afraid to
finish the night before, plunging two fingers inside herself as she fantasized
about the man who had taken her in hand so completely. With her digits buried
deep in her pussy, Cash rocked her hips back and forth, biting her lower lip so
as to stifle any moans that might be heard. In her mind, Miles was there,
without his clothes on. In her mind, he was pressed against her body, his hard
muscular frame making her feel soft and fragile by comparison. What she'd give
to have him push himself inside her, to claim her. That was how things should
have ended, he should have fucked her like she needed to be fucked, he should
have plunged his... Cash moaned, feeling the walls of her pussy spasm around
her fingers. Was she really too timid to even think the word? She had never
been with a man before, but she knew what she wanted.

Cock. She wanted his thick cock
pushing deep inside her body. She wanted every inch of it held deep inside her.
She wanted it thrusting in and out and in and out... Consumed with lustful
thoughts, she arched her hips and worked her pussy shamelessly, feeling her
juices seeping down her fingers. Pressing the heel of her palm against her
sensitive clit, she ground it there until the swirling pleasure rose and burst
and for a beautiful moment her body was filled with perfect sensation.

When the pleasure abated to a
pleasant afterglow she discovered that there was a slight ache in her bottom.
How did he do that? How did he manage to spank her in such a way that even when
she was naughty in his absence she felt his censure?

Slipping out of bed, she showered
and dressed, putting on the same sweater and pants she'd worn the previous
evening. She tucked her underwear into the pocket and went without; it was much
too messy to put back on. By the time she was done cleaning up, Miles was
waiting at the door of her room.

“Miss Raine.”

His deep rumble made her blush.
What if he knew what she'd been doing?

“Miss Raine, your suite is ready.”

She glanced up at him and saw to
her disappointment that he was back in business mode. There was no gleam of acknowledgment
in his eye, nothing that told her he too was thinking about what it had been
like to see her naked the previous evening, to make free with some of the most
intimate parts of her body.

“Ms. Dwyer is there,” Miles added.
“She has been released from the hospital.”

“Mattie!” Cash beamed. “Is she
okay?”

“She will be fine. Kevin and I are
going to have a chat with her, if you'd like to go get settled in.”

And that was how Cash ended up
lurking behind a potted plant, watching Miles and Kevin scold Mattie, who was
looking pretty good if you didn't count all the bruises. She sat on the couch
with her feet up on the coffee table, smirking gently.

“You're trouble,” Miles said,
standing over her. “And I'm not sure you're up to this tour.”

“If people being trouble stopped
them going on tour you could kiss goodbye to half of the oldies you listen to,”
Mattie pointed out.

“I do not want to have to scrape
you off every street in Europe,” Kevin agreed with Miles. “And how are you
going to travel and perform with broken ribs?”

“Carefully,” Mattie said. “Look,
stop fussing. If you want to kick me off the tour, then kick me off the fucking
tour. Spare me the lecture.”

Cash couldn't help but admire
Mattie's resolve. She really didn't take shit from anybody, even Miles. Cash
found it hard to imagine looking Miles in the face and swearing at him, it
seemed like the sort of thing he'd respond to swiftly. But Mattie was getting
away with it. How was Mattie getting away with it?

“I'm not going to kick you off the
tour, Mattie,” Kevin said, sighing. “But you have to be more careful.”

“Okay, good,” Mattie said. “Then
we're done here.”

“Wait a minute,” Miles said. “If
you're going to be living here, there are rules to follow.”

“What rules, Daddy Muscles?” Mattie
smirked and Cash had to clap a hand over her own mouth to stifle a giggle.

“A nine o'clock curfew for
starters,” Miles said. “And you don't share your suite key with anyone.”

“A nine o'clock curfew?” Mattie
laughed. “Muscles, I'm twenty one years old. I'll stay out as late as I want.”

“Then you won't stay here.”

“You're not in charge,” Mattie
pointed out. “Cash is. This is her suite and her tour.”

“Yes, and I'm in charge of Cash,
which means I make the rules. If you don't like it, you know where the door
is.”

“Miles!” Cash came out from her
hiding place, quite annoyed. “Mattie can stay here as long as she wants.”

“Yes, she can,” Miles agreed. “As
long as she understands that there are rules to be followed and consequences
for not following them.”

“What are you going to do if she
doesn't?” Cash asked the question out of sheer curiosity. If Miles tried to
spank Mattie he'd probably lose a limb.

“You do remember, Miss Raine, that
there was a break in yesterday,” Miles said. “A fairly serious one.”

Cash quailed under his stare. Truth
be told, she'd almost forgotten about the break in. The suite looked as if it
had never been touched and she was thoroughly distracted by what had passed
between her and Miles. “I remember,” she said, shifting where she stood. “Of
course I remember.”

“Cash,” Mattie said, breaking the
silence. “It's okay, chill. If Muscles here wants things done his way, we'll do
things his way.”

“Thank you, Mattie,” Miles said.
“As for you, Miss Raine, you will be under the same restrictions as Ms. Dwyer.”

“And so begins the most boring tour
of all time,” Mattie drawled.

Miles looked at both Mattie and
Cash, his expression hard. “If you two are bored, then I'll know I'm doing my
job.”

*
* * * *

In the aftermath of the lecture,
Miles decided to approach Mattie on her own. She'd fled slowly and
uncomfortably to the balcony, where she appeared to be doing her damnedest to chain-smoke
herself to death before their flight left.

“Hello Miss Dwyer,” he said as he
stepped through the doors and closed them firmly behind him to prevent gusts of
toxic smoke blowing into the suite.

“Hey Muscles.” She nodded as she
leaned against the balustrade. Cool as a cucumber, that was Mattie. He had to
admit he was becoming a little fond of her, she was a tough little thing, and
he admired toughness in all its forms.

“I appreciate your co-operation
earlier,” he said, sitting at the table. Whenever he stood he ended up looming
over Mattie, which wasn't ideal for the type of conversation he was hoping to
have with her.