Nixon: An m/m bodyguard romance (Hunter Security), page 5
“I broke up with my boyfriend just before. He wanted me to come out of the closet. I wasn’t ready. Hell, it’s been four years, and I’m still not sure I’m ready,” he admits, throwing his head back against the couch. “So many things are confusing me about that night, though. Like if he knew I was gay, why try to kill me? Wouldn’t it be smarter to blackmail me?”
I nod. That exact thought had crossed my mind.
“Did you ever hook up with anyone while filming Music in the Trees? Maybe even hug a man too long or kiss someone?”
Dante ponders the question before sitting up again.
“My ex visited me on set one night. We were in my trailer, and he begged me to take him back. He kissed me before he left. But no one else was in there with us. I’m not stupid.”
“Were your blinds completely closed? Could someone possibly peek inside?”
Dante nibbles on his lower lip and shrugs. “I guess it’s a possibility. Do you think the dork from the red carpet saw us kiss?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but it could be something. Was there anyone on the set who was overly attentive to you? Maybe someone who constantly brought you water or snacks or wanted to get on your good side?”
“I should tell you now, I have the world’s worst memory when it comes to that shit,” he admits. “Nothing sticks out off the top of my head.”
I nod, wishing we had something else. It still feels like there is a puzzle piece missing here.
“So, did me spilling my darkest secret help you at all?”
I shrug. “It gives us more places to look and more things to think about. Thanks for opening up to me.”
“Not like I had much choice,” he mutters.
“You always have a choice, Dante.”
He scoffs. “Really? Because I wish I had a choice in my life right now. I don’t tell people about my sexuality ever. Someone found out even with how careful I am, and they want me dead over it. Now I’m forced to have more people in my life who could possibly find out about who I am, then what? Will they want me dead too? Is being gay that fucking bad?” His voice breaks before his anger returns. “So if any of that seems like I have a choice, you’re clearly missing something.”
“I wasn’t trying to push you to come out,” I reassure him. “I had no fucking idea. I thought maybe he had caught you sleeping with another woman. I mean, it would make sense that you wanted to scratch an itch seeing as you and Anna weren’t really together. I thought maybe the guy was a jealous ex or something. I’m sorry I pressured you into telling me.” I grab the back of my neck and stand. “Do you need to go anywhere tomorrow?”
He shakes his head, not looking at me.
“Then I’ll see you the day after,” I say and leave.
Fuck. I feel like a class-A douche for forcing him out of the closet like that. But I wasn’t lying about not having a clue.
Clearly, Dante Michaelson truly is a good actor.
Once I get to work, I head directly to Sophy’s office and knock on her door. “Got anything?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not yet. I’ve been sending the sketch to all the people who were in charge of Music in the Trees, but it was four years ago. If he was just a small temp worker, it could be that no one remembers him,” she supplies.
“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. This guy is good at laying low, being a person that people don’t see, which makes him extra dangerous.”
“Why do you think he wants Dante dead?”
“There are a million reasons. Maybe he was pissed that he didn’t make an impression on him. Maybe he’s delusional. I won’t be able to answer that question until we find him.”
The response satisfies Sophy, who nods her head.
“If I find anything, I’ll let you know,” she tells me, and I make my way to my office.
I’m three emails away from clearing my inbox when my phone vibrates across my desk.
Dante: Hey, babysitter… I need to run to the store. With all of the crazy shit going on, I forgot that Anna’s birthday is in two days. I don’t have a present for her.
Me: When do you want to go?
Dante: Now.
Me: Great manners that you got there. I’ll be at your place in thirty minutes.
Dante: Make it twenty. I’ve got things I need to do.
I don’t bother responding. Instead, I exit out of my computer and let everyone know I’ll be busy for the rest of the afternoon. Knowing Dante, this won’t be a quick trip. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him to make me take him to extra stores simply to annoy the shit out of me.
On my way to my car, I take a deep, settling breath, preparing myself for what could be a long day. Thankfully, it doesn’t take me long to get to Dante’s house, and I don’t have time to let my thoughts go off track. Being Dante’s bodyguard and having to be in close proximity to him after finding out he’s gay is a temptation I can’t afford. He’s a client.
At least, that’s my new mantra.
After picking him up, he doesn’t let on as to what the plan is. It turns out that it’s exactly as I expected when we get to the mall. He totes me from store to store, and it’s testing my patience.
“Anna doesn’t really strike me as someone who wants lingerie from her best friend for her birthday,” I mutter.
“Then you don’t know Anna,” Dante responds, then makes me follow him to not one, not two, but three lingerie stores before deciding nothing was good enough for her.
“Do you even know Anna at all?” I ask after leaving three more stores.
Dante smirks at me. That mischievous glint behind his eye tells me he has been fucking with me this entire time.
“I bet the next store will have the perfect thing,” he declares, but at this point, I’m almost convinced he already has the gift bought, and he is trying to get me to quit.
Thankfully, the next stop is the Apple Store.
“Can I help you?” an associate asks, and Dante nods.
“I have an Apple Watch set aside for Michael Storm,” he tells the guy, who nods and rushes to get the item.
My jaw ticks as I fight the urge to strangle Dante. What a little shit. We literally spent hours looking for a gift that was waiting here for us all along.
“Why do you enjoy fucking with me so much?” I growl into his ear, noticing the way his body responds.
He moves slightly as a shiver runs down his spine, and his lips part as a slight woosh of air escapes.
He’s your client, I remind myself, biting the inside of my cheek hard to force myself to stay on track.
“It’s just so much fun watching that vein throb between your eyebrows,” Dante responds with a megawatt grin.
“Here you go, Mr. Storm,” the associate says with a smile, handing Dante the Apple Watch, which must already have been paid for.
“Thank you.” He accepts the small bag, then turns and walks out.
“Why didn’t you get it shipped to your house?” I ask as we make our way out of the mall.
“It would have taken too long, and I wouldn’t have been able to mess with you all afternoon.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself while dying to discipline him. This brat needs a tamer, but there are a million reasons why I can’t be it.
Chapter 7
Dante
Anna opens her present while listening to my story about how I got it and shrieks. “You did what?”
“I was bored. I figured, why not fuck with my bodyguard for the day? Ten out of ten would recommend,” I joke with a smirk.
“You are such a little shit.” She gives my shoulder a shove. “I’m going to miss you like crazy.” The pout on her pink lips is adorable, but I feel the same way.
“Stop picking up contracts for movies so far away from me,” I whine and pull her in for a hug.
“I hate being away from everyone I love. At least Brittany gets to come along as my assistant.”
“Lucky bitch,” I murmur, but there is no bite in my words.
She truly is lucky, and I’m jealous. Anna’s life is falling into place perfectly. I wish I could gain the courage to do the same.
What would it be like to have someone to come home to after a long day?
To travel with when I have to film at different locations or do press junkets.
To have someone to share all the highs and lows with.
And, of course, someone to fuck my brains out. It’s been so goddamn long since I’ve had sex with another person. I’m honestly not even sure if I’d be good at it anymore.
“Promise me you won’t push Nixon too hard while I’m gone,” Anna pleads.
“I make no such promise,” I joke.
She groans. “You’re the worst. He’s going to quit if you don’t stop all your antics.”
“I highly doubt that. If he were going to quit, he’d have done it by now. Besides, my self-defense mechanism is a smart mouth. I can’t even help it.”
The look Anna shoots me tells me she sees through my bullshit.
“What am I going to do when you’re gone?” I complain. “Elanor isn’t the same to talk to.”
“I’ll only be a phone call away,” she reminds me.
I pout. “Yes, but the time difference will be crazy.”
“We’ll get through it. We always do.”
I nod and pull her in for another hug, not wanting her to leave.
I hate when we are apart for work, but the even scarier thought is, eventually, she’s going to move out, and I won’t have her here all the time.
What am I going to do then?
“Can I ask you some more questions?” Nixon asks, pulling into my driveway.
I’m supposed to be at some event tonight, but I decided to bail at the last minute. I know I’ll face the wrath of Elanor tomorrow when she finds out I didn’t show, but that’s a tomorrow Dante problem.
It’s been three days since Anna left for Paris, and I already miss her like crazy. I’m ridiculously lonely in this big house all by myself, so the idea of hanging out with Nixon, even to answer questions, is inviting. But I can’t let Nixon know how eager I am.
“What more do you need from me?” I groan as I unbuckle my seat belt.
“I’m trying to connect the dots. Anything and everything you’re willing to tell me would be appreciated.”
“What is this, therapy?” I ask as we get out of the car and head to the front door.
As usual, Nixon is right on my tail. “No offense, but you would make a shitty shrink.” I can’t resist poking the bear.
Nixon blows out a big breath, and I have to bite my tongue to stop the smile that wants to spread across my face. Fuck, I love getting him going.
“Want anything to drink?” I ask, making my way to the refrigerator.
“Water’s fine,” he responds, and I grab two bottles of sparkling water.
“You seriously drink this shit?” he grumbles.
I gasp, placing my hand on my chest in mock surprise. “You don’t?”
I already know from studying him that he only drinks plain water, but I won’t tell him that.
“Just give me a glass. I’ll drink tap water like a normal person.” He groans.
“Like a caveman,” I quip, then reach for a cup and fill it with the chilled, filtered water from the refrigerator.
“So, what else do you want to know?” I question as I head to the living room and plop onto my favorite couch. “I’m pretty sure I already told you everything that’s of any importance.”
“How many boyfriends have you had over the years?” he asks.
“Two. I haven’t dated anyone since Jeramiah, the guy I broke up with just before Music in the Trees.”
“Any casual hookups?” he pries, frustrating me.
Deciding to fuck with him, I lean forward. “Do you also want to know what turns me on?” I counter with a smirk.
“Fuck, can’t you make anything easy?” he grumbles.
“No casual hookups. I haven’t had sex in over four years. Anything else?” I bite out.
“Who all knows about your secret?”
At least that is an easy answer. “Jeramiah and Montgomery, my two exes, Elanor, Brittany, Anna, and her parents. That’s it.”
“What about your family?”
I laugh so hard my ribs hurt. “Didn’t you do a background search before you took me on as a client?” He shrugs. “Do you really think the pastor of a mega-church would have any relationship with their child if he knew he was gay? Not that Daddy dearest has much of a relationship with me these days since I turned my back on God.”
“Is that why you stay in the closet?” he asks with a sympathetic look that pisses me off.
“Storytime is over. I’m going to bed,” I state right before the power goes out.
Nixon curses. “Stay close,” he commands, and for once in my life, I do as I’m told.
“Why the hell did the power go out? It’s not like there is a storm or anything.”
“Exactly why you need to stay close,” he repeats.
Shattering glass alerts us that someone is trying to get in my back door, and I gasp.
“Stay behind me,” Nixon instructs. I quickly move so he is in front of me, blocking anything from being able to get to me. “Whoever you are, I would advise you to leave now. I have a fully loaded pistol, and I’m not afraid to shoot,” he shouts, unholstering his gun and aiming it toward the back door.
Faint curses ring out before they disappear, but Nixon doesn’t move.
“Call nine-one-one,” he instructs, but my phone is too far away to reach.
“I left my phone on the couch,” I whisper.
“Mine is in my left front pocket. Pull it out and call.”
As I reach into his pocket, I realize how close we are. I take a sharp inhale, filling my nose with the scent of musk and something woodsy. Holy shit, that’s an amazing cologne scent.
“Get the phone, Dante,” Nixon growls out, pulling me out of my thoughts. I slide the device out of his pocket and dial 9-1-1.
After I relay the information, I stand still behind the giant of a man in front of me, trying to even my breathing. Not only am I scared shitless that someone tried to break into my house, but I’m also extremely turned on at how close I am to Nixon.
“The police are pulling into your driveway now,” the dispatcher informs us, and we end the call.
Nixon escorts the officers inside and encourages me to sit on the couch again, then heads to check why the power went out. After he leaves, everything goes by in a bit of a blur. I give a report to the police officers, but the entire time, I feel like I’m not in my body.
Before I know it, Nixon is packing a bag for me and driving us to a hotel. Apparently, he always keeps an overnight bag in his car, just in case, so we don’t have to stop at his house.
While we drive, he explains that some sort of power line was cut and will have to be fixed tomorrow. So tonight, I’m being forced to share a suite with a man I shouldn’t be letting get closer to me. Yet I can’t stop it.
After we are checked in, Nixon halls our bags to the room while I follow along, still feeling like this is a dream. Why the hell did someone try to break into my place? The moment a bed is in sight, I collapse onto it. I’m exhausted to the bone, yet my brain won’t shut off.
“Do you need anything?” Nixon asks, leaning against the doorframe of my room for the night.
“Did the cameras pick up anything?” I ask instead of answering his question because honestly, I don’t know what I need right now.
“Nope. Whoever this was knew all about your security system, which means they either scoped out your place or somehow had inside knowledge. I’m leaning toward the latter.”
That causes me to jolt upright. “How the fuck would they have inside knowledge?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. If someone were scoping out your place, I would have known.”
I chew on the corner of my thumb.
Who would betray me?
“You shouldn’t do that,” Nixon scolds me.
I roll my eyes. “Bite me. I’m nervous. Someone tried to break into my house tonight. Or did you forget?” I snap, standing and making my way toward him. “Maybe it is one of your guys who is the insider.”
Nixon’s nostrils flair. “Not possible,” he states with a growl, tightening his stance.
“How is it not possible? Are you that fucking perfect?”
“I’m not perfect, but I know everyone who works for me. It wasn’t my team.”
I roll my eyes again, loving the way it makes Nixon’s teeth grind. One way to get my mind off the fact that someone broke my trust is by getting under the beast’s skin. It’s a good way to pass the time.
“Well, if it wasn’t your team, who was it?”
“I don’t know yet, but I will find out,” he assures me.
“You keep saying things like that, but you’ve yet to prove yourself. Maybe I should hire a new team.” I shrug, but as I turn to walk away, Nixon grabs my wrist.
A jolt of electricity shoots through my veins, and I bite my lip to stop the moan that wants to escape. A simple touch should not turn me on as much as it is.
“I get that you’re scared, but stop being a brat for once,” Nixon growls out.
I take a deep inhale before staring directly into his perfect baby blues. “Make me,” I push, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
How much more do I have to press to make him break?
Nixon’s eyes darken, and the grip on my wrist tightens. He’s so close to snapping and punishing me. That’s exactly what I want. What I need.
“Or are you a chickenshit?” I goad, making his jaw tick.
A deep guttural growl escapes him, and he licks his lips as he decides what he’s going to do. All I know is I won’t stop it. I want whatever he’s going to give me, even if it will be a mistake at the end of the night.
I want Nixon Hunter, and by the look in his eyes right now, he wants me too.
Chapter 8
Nixon
With pent-up frustration, I fling Dante onto the bed he was lying on a moment ago and pin his hands above his head, pressing my heavy body against his.
