Bennett: an m/m bodyguard romance (Hunter Security), page 6
“You’re sweet,” I reply, and the tips of his ears turn a deep red as he blushes. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us. I’d like us to be friends if that’s possible.” He nods, but his smile drops, and I wonder if I said something wrong. “Do you not want to be friends?”
Bennett gently kicks at the water but doesn’t respond immediately. I don’t want to push him, so I stay quiet.
“I want to be friends, but I think I want to be more too. I’m just scared,” he whispers.
Wanting to comfort him, I place my hand on top of his. “It’s okay to be scared.” His smile comes back even though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “How about we continue to get to know each other like anyone would in the dating phase and see how it goes? We don’t have to put a label on things yet.”
“I like that idea, but would I be able to kiss you while we get to know each other?”
I let out a startled laugh. “I think that can be arranged,” I purr, leaning into him.
When his lips touch mine, goose bumps cover my body, and a low hum rumbles in my chest. Has a first kiss ever been this electrifying?
One hand gently caresses my face while the other grips my waist, urging me closer to him. I slide toward him, closing the space between us, and his tongue laps at my lips, looking for an invitation that I eagerly give.
As the kiss deepens, my cock hardens. All I want to do is jump into his lap and ride him, but we’re not ready for that yet. Sex would make things too complicated right now, so I force myself to stay where I am and enjoy the kiss.
Bennett’s lips are plush and warm, and his hands are surprisingly soft. He’s taking control, but at the same time, he’s gentle and comforting. He isn’t pulling me onto his lap, demanding more than what I want to offer, and I appreciate that more than words can express.
When we finally break for air, both of us are panting and sporting boners that can’t be hidden in these trunks.
“Want to stay for dinner?” I ask once my breathing has evened out a bit.
Bennett’s face lights up, and he says, “I’d love that. Want to actually swim first?”
I laugh with a shrug. “I guess so. Want to play water soccer?”
“Sounds fun, but only if it’s full contact,” he replies, and the idea of his hands all over me as we play around in the pool sounds like an early birthday present to me.
“Absolutely.” I stand to grab the nets so I can put them in place.
When Bennett notices what I’m doing, he gets up to help. Once we have them set up, we both jump into the pool, my handsome bodyguard making quite the entrance with his cannonball that has me laughing.
I was dreading having a conversation with him when he texted me earlier, but now I’m glad we got things out into the open. I will have to tell my sister about this soon, but right now, I’m going to have some fun with a guy I like.
With the ball in my hands, I stare Bennett down, his dark skin glistening with the water droplets clinging to his well-defined chest. He has a playful smirk on his full lips and a glint in his umber eyes.
“Ready to lose?” I taunt with a raised brow.
“I never lose,” he replies, then lunges at me, reaching for the ball.
Before he can grab it, I pull it away and dive to my left, narrowly avoiding his touch. But as I move to get my feet back under myself, Bennett grabs me and steals the ball. Even though I put up a fight, there isn’t much I can do to stop him. He throws the ball into the net with a strong arm and cheers at his goal.
“You got lucky,” I grumble.
Bennett throws his head back laughing, and even though I’m down a point, a giant grin spreads across my lips. This is going to be a fun game.
Laughter fills the air as we play, touching each other much more than necessary. Caresses of skin here, groping of asses there, and full body grabs from time to time.
Bennett is so strong, and it’s obvious I won’t win the game fair and square, but I’m not above playing dirty. When he grabs me to steal the ball back, I lean into him and lick his neck, causing a shiver to run down his spine and for him to lose his grip on me. With my limited time and freedom, I toss the ball as hard as I can and yell at the top of my lungs when it lands in the net.
“Cheater,” he mumbles, but his lips are still turned upward, so I know he isn’t taking the game too seriously and is not upset by my little play.
We play around in the pool for a good hour, and by the time we get out, I’ve lost track of the score, and my cock is hard as a rock. I wish I could do something about it, but that will have to wait until I’m alone. I know if I asked Bennett to take care of me, he’d be all over it, but I have to stick to my no-sex rule for now.
When we get out of the pool, my phone buzzes across the table. Who is calling me? If it’s Aria, I’m not answering. She has blocked me enough already.
After I grab two towels, I hand one to Bennett and wrap the other around my waist, walking to the table and picking up my phone. There are a few notifications, so I scroll through them.
Missed call from Mom and Dad.
Mom: Sorry to bother you all, but I almost forgot your father’s birthday tomorrow with all of this hullabaloo, and I don’t want to forgo traditions because of a broken ankle. Would the three of you be able to put your heads together and plan a last-minute celebration for him?
Missed call from Aria.
Aria: I could cook something if Archer or Clayton can take Dad out.
Clayton: I’m working tomorrow, but I can come for dinner. I could even order a cake.
Aria: That works. Archer, can you take Dad out?
Mom: He must be busy. If Archer can’t take your father out, I’ll come up with a plan to get him out of the house.
Aria: Sounds good to me. I’ll go shopping tonight and come over tomorrow afternoon.
Mom: Thank you all for helping. I wish I could do more, but I’m not supposed to put much pressure on this leg right now, and cooking with crutches is turning out to be more challenging than I thought.
Clayton: Listen to the doctors, please.
Mom: I’m trying.
When I get to the bottom of the conversation, I shake my head with a smile on my face and glance up at Bennett.
“It’s my dad’s birthday, and it looks like I’m in charge of getting him out of the house tomorrow. Are you up for an adventure?”
“Got something in mind?” he questions, and I tip my head from side to side.
“Not really, but maybe we can brainstorm over dinner tonight.”
“Sounds good to me. All I really need to know is what time I’m picking you up, but the more information you give me, the better prepared I can be.”
I smile and shoot off a text to the group chat.
Me: Sorry, I was swimming and didn’t have my phone with me. What time do you want me to get Dad out of the house?
Aria: I want to have dinner ready for six, and I’ll need at least an hour, probably two.
Aria: Oh! I also want to decorate so give me three hours.
Me: Okay, I’ll come up with a plan and let y’all know, but I’ll make sure he’s for sure out of the house by three.
Mom: This is going to be such a good day! Thank you all.
Clayton: See y’all tomorrow.
I put my phone down and strut over to Bennett.
“What would you like to eat?” I ask, placing my hands on his neck.
“Are you on the menu?” he inquires with a sinful smirk that has me feeling hot all over.
“Not tonight,” I reply, having to force the words out because I want nothing more than for him to feast on me.
But I know myself, and if we throw sex into the equation, I’m going to think it’s a full-blown relationship. It will hurt worse if Bennett decides he’s not ready for that. There needs to be boundaries for the time being, even if they suck.
“Do you want us to cook or order in?”
“Order in. I’m not the greatest cook. That’s why I have Aria,” I joke.
He titters and pulls his phone out, scrolling to find us something to eat.
It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out with someone other than my family or my band, and I have to admit it’s nice. Bennett’s company is soothing and something I could easily get used to, which is good since he will be around for a while.
Maybe if the universe decides to smile on me, he’ll be around for a long time.
Chapter Eleven
Bennett
Timothy and Chantel Dawson’s home is located in a beautiful gated community, and it’s obvious they take pride in their house.
Beneath each window on the first level of the front of the house are planter boxes with gorgeous flowers streaming out of them. The stone path that leads to the front door is lined with more flowers and greenery, giving this place a welcoming vibe.
While taking in the charming landscaping, I’m also keeping a close eye on Archer and our surroundings. It is my job, after all, to keep him safe. We might be growing something here, but that doesn’t mean I can let my guard down, especially when we are out in public.
Once Archer’s dad is ready, they make their way toward me.
“Nice to meet you again, Mr. Dawson,” I say, shaking his hand.
He scoffs. “Call me Tim. Mr. Dawson is far too formal.”
“Tim, it is,” I reply, and we all get into my SUV.
“I’m sorry that everyone is busy today, and we can’t do our normal family get-together for your birthday,” Archer tells his dad, a playful glint in his eyes. “But I’ve got something super fun lined up for us.”
“I don’t need anything for my birthday, but I appreciate you wanting to spend time with your old man. I just hope your mother will be okay on her own.”
“She’ll be fine,” Archer assures him.
Aria should be showing up at their house in about five minutes to get things ready for the birthday dinner and to make sure Chantel has someone around just in case.
“I know, but I worry about her. We aren’t young pups anymore,” Tim jokes.
“You look plenty young to me,” I tell him.
His smile grows, but I see him waving me off through the rearview mirror. “You’re only being nice because it’s my birthday.”
“I would never do that. I mean it. You’re just as spry and handsome as your son.”
When I look in the mirror again, Archer is smiling softly at me. It has me melting for him a little more. I have to play things carefully today because we aren’t technically dating, but I also want to win his father over in case things progress, which I suspect they will.
I still have to tell Nixon about Archer and me. Even though he’s my friend, he’s still my boss and deserves to be filled in because this has a chance to also affect his business.
“Where are we?” Tim asks as we pull up to a large, plain building, and I put the car into park.
“Can’t you read?” Archer teases his dad.
Tim squints at the writing on the side of the building, then his eyes go wide. “Axe throwing?”
“Yep,” Archer says. “It’s supposed to be lots of fun, and they assured me no one has lost any fingers at this location.”
Tim laughs, giving his son a gentle push. “Don’t you think I’m a little old for this?”
“There’s no age limit, so you’re good to go,” Archer assures him.
Tim shrugs and opens the door. “Do you think your mother will kill me if I accidentally kill you?” he asks, and we all laugh at his joke.
When we get inside, we have to fill out a few forms. After that, a young guy gives us a demonstration on how things work and the best techniques before leaving us to enjoy ourselves.
“Your dad is good at this,” I whisper to Archer a few minutes later, watching Tim throw another axe that lands perfectly in the bullseye.
With a giant smile on his face, Archer says, “He’s making me feel bad. I still haven’t hit the target.”
I chuckle. “It’s because your movements are too static. You need to loosen up, be more fluid. Watch me.”
Tim moves out of the way so I can take my turn. I take a step before throwing the axe, and as it soars through the air, I watch and smile when it lands in the center of the target.
“You both make this look easier than it is,” Archer grumbles.
“Practice makes perfect. Just keep trying,” Tim encourages his son.
Archer sighs but takes the axe from me and tries again. This time, he’s a lot closer, and when he turns around, his smile is so big I wonder if his jaw hurts.
“Did you see that?” he asks.
“A few more times, and you’ll be hitting the center, I’m certain of it. Why don’t you keep practicing while I take a break?” Tim suggests, moving to a table at the back of our lane.
I sit next to him, and we watch as Archer throws axe after axe.
“He’s getting better,” I note, and Tim dips his head in agreement.
“Thanks for looking out for my son,” he tells me.
I shrug. “It’s my job, and Archer makes it easy.”
“I’m proud of all my kids, but both Archer and Stefanie give me extra gray hair with their career choices. Being in the public eye, like they are, is scary at times. It’s nice to know that someone has my son’s back.”
“I’ll always have his back for as long as I’m in his life,” I assure him.
“I believe that,” he says, looking at me with a comforting grin. “I’m a good judge of character, and I can tell you’re a good person.”
I smile and thank him before turning my attention back to his son. I’ve always been proud of the person I am, but I’m still not sure I am good enough for Archer. He deserves the best. But maybe if I’m able to push my fears aside, I can be that for him.
After axe throwing, we went to a microbrewery for a tour and a couple of drinks. Well, Archer and Tim drank. As the driver, I stayed sober, of course. We laughed and talked the entire time, and I was completely at ease.
Tim and Archer talk animatedly in the back seat of my SUV as I drive us back to the Dawson house, and it makes me miss my own family a little.
I should call my parents tonight.
Today has been a pretty great day. It has me wondering what it would be like to spend even more time with Archer and his family.
“Should I order us something for supper?” Tim questions when I pull into the driveway.
“Why don’t we go inside and ask Mom first?” Archer suggests.
“You’re joining us, right?” Tim checks with me.
“If you don’t mind one more mouth to feed,” I reply.
He scoffs. “Of course we don’t. You’re part of the family now, as far as I’m concerned. Anyone who looks out for one of us is always welcome here.”
Archer beams at his dad, then looks at me with a soft expression I can’t exactly decipher, but it makes me feel happy and cared for.
The moment we open the front door, Aria and Clayton jump out and yell “Surprise,” causing Tim to grab his chest as he steps back.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack on my birthday?” he asks with a stern tone that doesn’t do much with how largely he is smiling.
“We’ve done a lot more scary things in the past. If you were gonna have a heart attack, you’d have had one by now,” Aria teases.
“But I’m old now. Things don’t work the same,” Tim counters before hugging his daughter. He hugs Clayton next, then pats me on the shoulder. “I guess we don’t have to order takeout, after all.”
“Happy Birthday, Tim,” I tell him.
“Thank you for helping us pull this off,” Aria says.
“I didn’t do anything except drive them around. You definitely don’t have to thank me.”
She rolls her eyes before walking away, and Archer chuckles. “I’m gonna have to tell her about us,” he whispers.
“I have to tell Nixon too.”
“I understand,” he replies with that warm smile that makes my heart beat a little faster yet puts me at ease at the same time. “If you need me to sign anything, let me know. I get that you being my bodyguard puts us in a bit of an odd dynamic. I don’t want to cause any trouble for you at work.”
“There have been workplace relationships before, so it shouldn’t be a big deal, but I’ll ask Nixon if anything needs to be signed.”
There is more that we should talk about, but now isn’t the time. So, I follow Archer into the kitchen where the rest of his family is and join them for an entertaining evening of laughter, jokes, and many trips down memory lane. I’m honored to have been included in an evening like this. And even though I’m Archer’s bodyguard, I’m being treated as a guest tonight, and it makes me happier than I thought it would.
The Dawson family welcomed me in today with open arms, and it has me thinking about a future with Archer, which seems less terrifying each time.
Chapter Twelve
Archer
My guitar hums as I strum it, filling my living room with a soft melody. I’m working on the song that’s been plaguing my brain for the last couple of days while I wait for Aria to show up. We need to go over my schedule for the week, and I also have to tell her that Bennett and I are maybe… kind of… seeing each other, but also, not really at the same time. Saying it’s complicated is an understatement.
Spending the day with him and my family yesterday was amazing. It has me praying that Bennett will want to move our relationship forward, but I refuse to push him. If he doesn’t come to feel the same way as I do, I’ll just have to accept that. I think it’s mainly his fear holding him back, so hopefully, with time, he’ll move past that.
I’m writing out some lyrics on a piece of paper when the front door opens, and Aria walks over to me.
“Whatcha working on?” she asks, plopping into the rocking chair.
“A song that keeps getting stuck in my head,” I tell her, putting my pen down. “Since you’re my twin and band manager, I figured you should know that Bennett and I have decided to be more than friends but not exactly in a relationship yet. We are playing it by ear and getting to know each other better, but there is the potential for it to build into more.” My words come out fast, but it’s better to rip off the Band-Aid.
