Rock the Bodyguard (8 page)

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Authors: Loki Renard

Tags: #rock star, #spanking, #contemporary romance, #domestic discipline

BOOK: Rock the Bodyguard
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Another sharp slap made her yelp.

“I suggest you think harder.”

Her cheeks flushed hot red as
embarrassment claimed her entire body, she could feel the very roots of her
hair prickling with heat. “Yes, I have,” she said. “I... didn't think you were
serious.”

“I was very serious, Miss Raine.
You have a tendency to let your sexuality run away with you.”

As he spoke, he let his fingers
drift across her soft lips yet again. She bit back a moan, but could not stop
her hips from performing an elemental dance. Miles was chastising her for
wanting the very thing he was providing, sweet, sweet pleasure. She moved back
and forth, pressing her tingling bud across the ridge formed by his fingertips.

“I'm sorry,” she gasped as he
swatted her lightly with his other hand.

“We must restrain ourselves, Miss
Raine,” Miles said, his voice sounding hoarse and husky. “We must exercise some
self control. Do you understand?”

“Mmm hmm,” Cash moaned. She could
feel the crotch of her panties growing damp. The restraint and self-control
Miles was talking about were mere wisps of an idea. All she wanted was more of
his touch, his strong, large hands slipping over her body.

Instead she got a dozen hard, swift
slaps applied to the seat of her panties. The quick flurry caught her off
guard. She squealed and danced in place, then finally squirmed away onto the
bed, catching herself on the soft coverlet as Miles followed, slapping her sore
bottom with great gusto. The more Cash tried to wriggle away, the harder Miles
spanked, until she was crying out under his hard hand, the skin of her bottom
flushed bright red, the tingling between her thighs forgotten as the harsh
slaps of his hand overrode all pleasure.

“If you're going to tempt me, Miss
Raine, you must be prepared to take the consequences,” Miles said. “That means
a sore bottom for disobedience.”

“But you touched me... there,” she
gasped, turning on her side to try to avoid more disciplinary swats.

“Because it’s what you want, Cash,”
he looked down at her. He was on all fours on the bed with her and his
masculine presence made her feel a fresh bloom between her thighs. “Because
it's what you need.”

“I need you to touch me, but not
touch myself?”

“It's part of learning to obey,” he
explained, gently running his hand down the outside of her hip. “I want you to
be obedient, Miss Raine.”

“I thought you wanted to keep
things professional.”

“I did,” he acknowledged. “But
things will never be entirely professional between us, Cash, will they?”

“I hope not,” she said, her breath
quickening as he slid his hand from her hip over the front of her crotch and
pressed lightly over the top of her mound. She turned onto her back and a light
grinding motion from the heel of his hand had her spiraling into pleasure
again.

“I want to take this slow, Cash,”
he said. “Can you agree to that?”

“Yes!” She would have agreed to
anything with his hand there, so close to the coiling center of desire.

“I'm a disciplinarian in my
relationships too, can you agree to that as well?”

Cash looked up into his face, so
sexy, so serious. “What does that mean? Does that mean you spank your
girlfriends for not taking out the trash?”

He smirked, his cheek dimpling.
“Something like that.” He sat back, releasing her. “Do we understand one
another?”

Cash shook her head. “I don't
understand anything about you.”

“That will change as we get to know
one another.” He smiled down at her and she smiled back, even though he had
slid his hand away, leaving her once more bereft of his touch. “I like you very
much, Cash.”

“I like you too,” she smiled. “Even
when you're being overbearing.”

“I want you to know that I like you
for who you are, not just for your body, not just for your desire.” He moved
away. “And that's another reason why we're going to take this slow.”

“So you can tease me until I can't
take it anymore?”

Miles' smirk grew darker. “I
haven't begun to tease you, my sweet little innocent. And now it is time for
bed.”

“No!” Cash formed a fist with her
palm and hit the bed. “That's not fair.”

“Life isn't fair,” Miles rumbled.
“Your concerts start tomorrow. You need your rest. Get cleaned up and go to
bed.” He pushed up and stood looking down at her. “I suggest you change those panties,
Miss Raine. They seem to have gotten wet.”

She blushed and threw a pillow at
his smirk, then escaped to the bathroom before he could retaliate with more
sharp slaps.

 

*
* * * *

 

Alone in the bedroom, the air still
scented with faint traces of Cash's arousal, Miles knew lines had been crossed.
He also knew that he could no longer stop himself. Cash wasn't going to stop
pursuing him. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and got it. Besides,
after his conversation with Kevin, he was no longer in the mood for being the
kind of professional the industry seemed to expect him to be. Cash was much
more than a meal ticket. She was much more than a mere client. She was a woman
with needs that seemed to mesh with his quite nicely.

Whilst Cash showered, he adjourned
to the main suite to talk to Kevin. There he found Mattie sitting in an
overstuffed chair looking thoroughly furious. Kevin was working on his laptop,
ignoring her.

“How are we doing?” Miles inquired.

“Concert tomorrow night,” Kevin
said. “Then on to Manchester.”

“Will I be allowed to perform? Or
will I still be stuck in this chair?” Mattie snapped the question.

Kevin looked up from the laptop and
pointed at her. “And your time starts again. Ten minutes of silence, that's all
you have to manage.”

“Maybe I like sitting in this
chair,” Mattie pointed out. “Maybe I'll just go on talking and talking and...”

Kevin sighed and shut the laptop
sharply. “Mattie! Do you really have to be such a spoiled brat?”

Mattie growled in response.
“Goddammit Kev, you used to be a lot more fun.”

“I'll be fun when you stop getting
into trouble.”

“Again,” Mattie said, almost
growling. “I never got into trouble. I got jumped. It can happen. It wasn't my
fault.”

“So you keep saying,” Kevin said
grimly.

Mattie scowled furiously and stood
up, her movements still ginger from the injury to her ribs. “I don't have to
take this.”

“Sit. Down.” Kevin snapped the
order, his voice cracking across the room. Mattie sat back down before she even
realized she'd done it. Miles had to hide a smile. Kevin hadn't forgotten any
of the old military tricks – including how to get hopped up little troublemakers
to back down before they got themselves in serious hot water.

“I am not enjoying this tour,”
Mattie began to whine. “This country sucks. I don't have to put up with this
shit,” she said, pushing out of the chair yet again.

“Mattie, if you don't sit back
down, I'll take a belt to your ass.” Kevin said it casually, calmly, as if it
was nothing to him at all.

“Who the fuck have you turned
into?” Mattie growled. “You're a manager. That's it. If Cash and Muscles want
to play kinky sex games, that's their business, but if you lay a fucking finger
on me I promise it will be the last thing you do.”

Kevin stood up and moved across the
room to face Mattie, who was so angry she was shaking where she stood. He
placed his hands gently on her shoulders and pressed her back down into the
chair without saying a word. Then he bent down, putting his hands on his thighs
so they were eye to eye when he spoke.

“Mattie, I know you're a tough
little thing. And I don't want to hurt you, but you've already gotten yourself
into enough trouble to almost end this tour before it began, and if you can't
follow simple instructions, there are going to be consequences.”

Her face set in a rough, tough,
oddly adorable pout, Mattie glared at Kevin. “Fine,” she said. “But can I at
least go get cleaned up and go to bed? I'm fucking tired.”

“Sure,” he said, straightening.
“Good night, Mattie.”

Mattie muttered something under her
breath as she pushed out of the chair and walked away. It sure didn't sound
polite.

“You're not going to actually try
to take a belt to her, are you?” Miles asked the question once Mattie was
safely gone.

“Not likely, no,” Kevin admitted.

“You know she's terrified of being
hit, right?”

“I know what I'm doing,” Kevin
said, his voice terse. “I don't need pointers, Miles.”

“Okay.”

Kevin gave Miles a searching look.
“As long as we're asking questions, what were you doing with Cash for so long?”

“I wasn't impregnating her, if
that's what you're concerned about.”

The men glared at one another.
Miles hated finding himself at loggerheads with Kevin yet again. It was not a
position he enjoyed, nor was it one he was accustomed to. He took a seat and
stared out the window at the London drizzle.

“What's wrong, Kevin? Why are we
fighting? We're on the same side. Aren't we?”

“Sure we are,” Kevin agreed. “I'm
sorry, Miles, this tour. It's the first big one I've done, there's a lot riding
on this. I have the label breathing down my neck and Cash has been distracted
from the moment you walked through the door. And Mattie...”

“You like her.”

“Yes, I like her. She's gorgeous.
She's a fighter. She's... a little pain in the ass,” Kevin confessed. “Like you
said she'd be.”

Miles smiled a little. “Well, to
give Mattie her due, she's kept to her part of the agreement. She's followed
all the rules we asked her to.” He snorted. “She even sat in a time out for a
minute or two – I'd say she likes you too.”

“You think so?”

“You threatened to take a belt to
her and she didn't eviscerate you on the spot.”

Kevin shrugged. “She does have two
broken ribs.”

“True,” Miles deadpanned, “they may
be slowing her down. Maybe she'll eviscerate you tomorrow.”

Kevin chuckled and Miles joined in.
Just for a moment, all was right with the world again.

Chapter Eight

The moment did not last. The smile
soon dropped off Kevin's face.

“Look. I know you're getting
involved with Cash. I know you're not going to stop just because I told you to.
And heaven knows she seems to be trying to throw her career away...”

Miles stopped him. “Wait, what do
you mean she's trying to throw her career away?”

Kevin put his hands in his pockets
and cocked his head to the side. “She's turned down six new songs. Actually,
she's turned down every new song that's been presented to her since you
started. You know why?”

“Tell me.”

“She says they're too sexual. She
doesn't want to sing about sex anymore. She wants to sing her own songs. The
label isn't happy. I'm not happy. She's not happy.” Kevin looked at Miles with
a hard, almost angry expression. “She used to be satisfied, she used to know
where she stood. Now she's rejecting everything that made her successful in the
first place.”

“Maybe that's not a bad thing.”

“It's a terrible thing. It puts her
career in jeopardy. It puts my career in jeopardy. Hell, it puts your job at
risk, Miles.” Kevin drew a deep breath. “I wanted Cash to hire you because I
didn't know anyone who would do the job better. But I'm starting to regret it.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Miles
said grimly, swallowing his anger.

“Fuck, I don't really mean it,”
Kevin said almost immediately. “It's great to be working with you again Miles,
it's just...”

“You don't like me having this much
control,” Miles guessed. “You're the manager and I'm a lowly bodyguard.”

Kevin snorted. “You're never a
lowly anything, Miles. I should have seen this coming. Cash has never bothered
falling for anyone before, you know that? I'd take her out to functions and
parties and she'd smile and dance and make polite conversation with guys. But
never any more than that. And I'm not talking just any guys. I'm talking about
men who can have almost any girl they want. But she was never interested in any
of them. Then you walk in the door and she swoons.”

He shook his head in a mixture of
amazement and frustration. “How the hell did you do it?”

“I didn't intend to do anything,”
Miles said. “I'm just myself.”

“And now Cash is trying to be just
herself. And that's not going to work.”

Miles pressed his lips together and
counted to five in his head before responding. “Kevin, do you hear the things
that come out of your mouth? I mean, do you listen to the things you say?”

“I'm telling it like it is.”

“Are you? You don't put the same
sort of pressure on Mattie that you do on Cash.”

“Mattie is different. She's built
her brand on being real. When she sings, people listen because they feel every
word.” Kevin's eyes lit up as he spoke about Mattie. “But Cash, Cash is more of
a product.” He held up his hands. “And before you kick my ass, I mean she's
positioned as something manufactured, she's an image, a young goddess for girls
to aspire to and men to lust after. The two of them couldn't be more
different.”

“Maybe Cash can be more like Mattie
than you think.”

Kevin frowned. “Maybe you should
just let me do my job and I'll let you do yours.”

“Maybe you two should just fuck and
get it over with.”

Mattie had sneaked back into their
presence just in time to hear Kevin's last sentence. She was dressed in black
satin men's style pajamas, complete with breast pocket that contained a couple
of cigarettes and a lighter. “You guys bicker like an old married couple, you
know that, right?”

“You know Mattie, with the way you
antagonize Kevin every time he's irritated, I'm starting to think you want a
good thrashing,” Miles observed, keeping his tone neutral.

“I do not!” Mattie scowled at him
furiously, but a hint of a blush on her cheeks belied her anger.

“The lady doth protest too much,”
Kevin chuckled, his good humor returning almost instantly as they ribbed
Mattie.

“The lady is going to put her boot
in your ass if you don't shut up,” Mattie rejoined.

“Are you going to let her get away
with that?” Miles smirked. He was hardly ever flippant, but he'd had quite
enough of Kevin's lectures and even more of Mattie's attitude. Maybe Mattie was
just the distraction Kevin needed.

“Mattie, go to bed,” Kevin groaned.
“We've all had a long flight.”

“Oh for god's sake, stop ordering
me about,” Mattie said. “I'm going to have a smoke.” She half-limped over to
the balcony that overlooked the street. A gust of cool, wet air blew in as she
went out and huddled in a corner, attempting to light her cigarette. It didn't
work. Within a couple of minutes she was back, shivering and annoyed. “This
weather is shit,” she said succinctly. “I'm smoking in here.”

“Mattie, please for the love of all
that is good in the world, go to bed.” Kevin stood up, apparently ready to deal
with the problem. “This isn't a smoking suite.”

“This isn't a fucking anything
suite,” Mattie observed. “It looks like somewhere old people go to die.”

She had a point. The décor was
dated to say the least, no matter how much the hotel might have described it as
'classic'. It was also fairly ornate and probably quite valuable, but nobody
was in the mood to be impressed.

“What are we doing?” Cash was up,
wearing a long white silk robe that gave her an ethereal presence in that
stuffy British room. There was a brief moment of silence as Miles, Mattie and
Kevin stopped and simply stared.

“Why are you all looking at me like
that? Have I grown an extra head?” Cash swept onto a couch and looked at Miles
and Kevin. “Were you picking on Mattie again?”

“I do not pick on people, Miss
Raine,” Miles said. “Not anyone who doesn't go out of her way to deserve it.”

“I need a cigarette,” Mattie said.
“They're being fucking Brits about it.”

“Brits?” Kevin queried.

“I could use the word I was going
to, if you like?”

“Oh let her smoke if she wants to,”
Cash sighed. “There's some sort of library room in this place isn't there?”

There was indeed 'some sort of
library room'. It was a smallish room festooned with book cases, and furnished
with four leather arm chairs set in circular fashion about a heavy carved
wooden table. The room was provided with an ashtray, which was all the
encouragement Mattie needed. She was soon ensconced in a chair that seemed two
sizes too large for her and puffing away like a little steam train.

Whilst Mattie smoked herself silly,
Cash, Miles and Kevin went to their separate rooms. Cash was disappointed that
Miles refused to share her room, Kevin and Miles were still displeased with one
another and Mattie, well Mattie thought the whole deal was a bit shit. With the
London rain pounding down outside, the foursome settled in for a vaguely uncomfortable
and mutually disgruntled night.

 

*
* * * *

 

All discomforts were forgotten the
next evening when the tour kicked off at the O2 arena. As usual, Kevin remained
behind at the hotel. He was edgy enough with all the travel and paparazzi
problems without adding loud pounding music to the equation. Miles supervised
Cash and Mattie's transport to the venue and kept close guard as they prepared
for the show. The tour was a large affair and in addition to Cash and Mattie,
there was a stage crew that had traveled over from the States, as well as
several more support staff including a dedicated seamstress to get Cash in and
out of her less conventional outfits. Even the flamboyantly charming Raoul had
made it his business to come along, in case of 'dance emergencies'.

It was Mattie's first time opening
for Cash. She was practically vibrating with nerves. Miles suspected she was
also dosed up pretty well on painkillers because she showed little sign of
being injured, at least at first. Whilst Mattie bounced off the walls, Cash had
gone to her mellow place. She sat quite still and calm as the make up team
worked their magic, transforming her from pretty young woman to mega star.

When all was said and done, Miles
retired to the wings to keep watch. There were several additional men posted
around the arena, all of whom he'd personally vetted. With the recent security
breaches, he wasn't taking any chances. It was more than a professional mission
to keep Cash safe - it was a very personal one.

The lights went out, and a hush
fell over the crowd. A bass line kicked in, a spotlight hit the stage, and
Mattie began proceedings with a primal scream that erupted out of her small
frame, echoing around the stadium. Her cry was met with one from the crowd, but
even the combined shouts of thousands of people could not drown out her voice.
Miles found himself impressed, deeply so. Mattie commanded the stage
completely, and when she began to sing / scream lyrics it was actually quite
something to behold.

 

YOU WANTED ME DEAD

BUT I'M IN YOUR HEAD

SO LIVE ON LIVE ON

WITHOUT ME

 

A volley of drumbeats rent the air,
a second spotlight lit the stage and Cash's voice lifted in a honey-sweet
melody.

 

My blood, your heart,

I'll never end,

Hold your breath,

Hold your breath,

Hold your breath,

Take it all in...

 

They looked good together up there
as they shrieked and sung something that managed to be haunting in spite of the
bass that seemed to make the whole world rumble. The crowd loved it, throwing
their hands in the air as they screamed along with Mattie and attempted to
match Cash's lyrical prowess.

For once, Cash was dressed in what
Miles considered to be almost appropriate attire. She was wearing jeans, albeit
very tight, very ripped jeans, but still jeans. Her upper body was clad in a
dark tank top, cut low to reveal ample cleavage. Compared to her usual outfits
it may as well have been a potato sack.

Miles was forced to come to a
reluctant, very unlikely, conclusion. Mattie was good for Cash. Cash wasn't
doing her usual gyrations; she was just singing her heart out. He was certain
she would return to her usual moves later in the program, but as he watched her
sing with Mattie, he saw something he'd not seen since the morning he'd caught
her dancing all alone. He saw Cash being herself.

 

DROWN ME BUT I DO NOT DIE

CUT ME BUT ITS YOU THAT BLEEDS

I'LL LIVE ON. LIVE ON. LIVE IN

YOU EVERY TIME YOU THINK OF ME

 

Mattie's voice rose to a raw
shriek, the lights slammed off and the venue was plunged into momentary
darkness whilst the hook from Rodeo began pounding over the speakers. When the
lights came up again Mattie was gone, Cash was in a skirt that just barely
covered her ass, and her hips were already gyrating with the beat. Her smile
was broad, but even at a distance, Miles thought it plastic. It was back to
business as usual. Back to the poppy beats, filthy lyrics and mindless
messages.

To his surprise, Mattie made a
beeline for him after her part of the performance was done.

“Whaddya reckon, Muscles?” Mattie's
eyes were caked with enough dark makeup that she looked like a raccoon. She was
already smoking, a fact that did not surprise him in the slightest.

“I thought it was very good.”

Mattie beamed and her entire face
was transformed. “Well thanks Muscles, that's real nice of you to say.”

“What do you think of the concert?”
He attempted polite conversation, thoroughly expecting an eye roll or a sort of
derision at the question. But Mattie seemed to be in a chatty mood.

“I think I'd be tearing my hair out
if I was Cash,” Mattie said. “But she looks damn good doing her thing. They
love her.” There was a pause and a sidelong glance. “Almost as much as you do.”

“Excuse me?”

“You think it's a secret? I know
who it was in those photos. That was you, Muscles. You and Cash have been
taking long walks on the beach. Canoodling in the sand dunes.” Mattie grinned.

“Is that what Cash told you?”

“Cash is keeping her mouth shut,”
Mattie said. “But I know what I see. And I know what I hear. You and Kevin are
fighting over her like a couple of Billy goats.”

Miles pressed his lips shut,
neither confirming or denying. Next to him, Mattie cackled with uproarious
amusement. “Don't worry,” she said. “I won't tell. Wouldn't want to get you
into trouble, Muscles.”

“Mattie...” he growled. “Stop
stirring.”

“Hold this,” she said, handing him
the cigarette. “I gotta get out there again.”

Sure enough, the music slammed into
a minor key and the bass line slowed as Mattie stomped out onto the stage. She
began to sing just as Miles started to make another sweep. He caught the first
verse, such as it was.

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