Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
The notebook makes a hell of a lot more sense now.
Her lips part a little. “You want to sleep with me again,” she realizes. “You want to take that risk…But if the Tri-Force finds out you’re having sex with me, they’ll fire you. Correct?”
“Correct.” My voice is stricter, breath caged in my lungs. No one is covering my ass the way that Akara and I covered Farrow, and the leads are more protective of the girls in these families. “It would also do damage to the men on SFO.”
She nods, understanding. “Because that’s two Omega bodyguards who’ve slept with their clients, and from your bosses’ vantage, that’s two too many.”
“Exactly.” I nod. “But the fake dating op gives us more coverage to do what we want.” We can do this again. I want to do this again. I’m settled with this fact. It feels right. No indecision. No backtracking.
Her eyes glimmer. “It gives us plausible deniability,” she says into a warm smile. “So we use the fake dating ruse as a way to keep having sex.” She closes her notebook and takes a lighter breath like something is rising off her shoulders. “I do think that this is the best thing to come out of the Cinderella ad. Wonderful, passionate sex. That no one can know about, of course.” She frowns. “Including Maximoff. I wouldn’t want him to have to keep a giant secret from all of security again.”
“Then I won’t tell Banks.” It’s only fair. “For the same reason.”
We shift nearer, her blue robe parts between her soft thighs and slips further open at her chest, her small breasts peeking out. My cock strains in my boxer-briefs, and my hand warms her thigh. She places her palm atop mine.
Our eyes lock in an intense beat.
“It’ll have to end eventually,” she says. “We can’t have sex, if we’re not fake dating. The risk of getting caught would increase tenfold.”
I nod, more tense. She’s right. The end date has to be the breakup. A public breakup that security is choosing the date and time and details for. Then things return to the way they were.
No touching.
No kissing.
Definitely not my cock in her pussy.
These logistics aren’t the kind with a happily ever after for us. But at this point, I think we’re both willing to enjoy anything we can.
“Sounds right,” I tell Jane.
This is the only way I can keep Jane safe, the team safe, remain her bodyguard and fulfill a knockout desire we’ve both restrained ourselves from and hungered after.
She begins to smile more brightly. “It seems we are dreadfully tangled, you and I.”
Couldn’t agree more.
22
JANE COBALT
“That is so unnecessary and categorically illegal,” I say aloud and adjust my clutch on the steering wheel, watching paparazzi drive on the shoulder of the bumpy two-lane highway.
Reckless cars fight with each other to be closest to my blue Beetle and to Maximoff’s red Audi, my best friend driving in front of me.
We stay in the right lane, and I concentrate and ride close to his bumper. Not letting anyone squeeze in between our cars.
Thatcher and I would’ve just taken back roads and split up from Maximoff and Farrow, but with the sheer aggression and swarms of cameramen who like to play chicken and bumper cars, we would’ve been trapped in Center City for a troublesome decade. We’ve chosen a troublesome hour on a highway instead.
As my brother Eliot would say, “Paparazzi are ravenous fiends out for flesh and blood.” That has never been truer.
Especially since the Bed & Breakfast.
The ploy worked as well as security planned. When we were checking out, I caught Oscar telling Thatcher, “Heard you almost all night. Incredibly believable. ”
I’d hope so.
At least Oscar, Donnelly, and Banks believe they just listened in on our pretend sex noises. We have no intention of ever telling them they overheard real grunts, real moans, real orgasms—I will most surely die with this secret.
But Oscar’s predictions were right. The guests believed us. And so has the media and thusly, the world. Click-bait articles were trending for days.
JANE COBALT AND HER BODYGUARD CAUGHT LEAVING A BED & BREAKFAST TOGETHER!
And you’re not going to believe what the other guests overheard!
I did swipe through some of the comments on posts.
Vera K: Jane is living the dream!
EarlyBird_4: Can’t believe she’s hooking up with her bodyguard. The crops are thriving.
PrincessPeachez16: If my bodyguard looked like that, you best believe I’d be dating him too.
HeyyyHey: Get it girl!!
I glazed over most negativity and just basked in the positives for a while.
These scandalous rumors incited the media, but the tipping point that caused paparazzi to drive in emergency lanes and feverishly crowd us—it came just yesterday.
When I publicly confirmed the rumors.
That I, Jane Eleanor Cobalt, am dating my handsome and oh-so-stern bodyguard. I wanted it to be more personal than a press release. So we became official via a Live Story on Instagram.