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First thing people know about me, I’m tall. Second thing, I’m a twin. Third thing, I’m a pain in your fucking ass. If you’re not giving a hundred shits at rest or in high water, I will hammer you. One further, I’ll volunteer to be the bad guy if it means protecting lives and keeping minds right on the team.
It’s what fuels me. I’m strong to protect the soft.
I’ve heard sacks of horseshit spew hatred and try to degrade her, and they actually believe they’re entitled to her body and time like she’s some fucking doll they can rip apart with no consequence. They’re targets. Men that I will fucking take out before they breathe on Jane.
Truth is, I’d welcome Maximoff on the team. But he can’t be on it. Not when he’s a part of the famous families that we protect.
I shouldn’t have punched Farrow. My fault. It’s all my fault.
just thinking about Farrow. Again, shouldn’t have punched him. Can’t shake that fucking truth.
Just as I started signing the termination papers, Akara grabbed the pen out of my fucking hand and Banks locked me in a room until I promised I’d stay on. The main reason why I’m still here is… Jane. I didn’t want to give up on her. I didn’t want to quit on her.
It’s not my job to imagine tasting her words against my tongue while I push deep inside—don’t. Don’t. My muscles sear as each tendon contracts.
“Before you worked in security,” Jane says, “did you always gravitate towards button-downs?” I thought she was about to say, did you always gravitate towards me?
Jane wraps her arms up in my shirt, and she puts her nose to the collar and breathes in. I stiffen. Don’t think about her like that. She notices that I just noticed her sniffing my button-down. “Um…you smell wonderfully.” My dick strains against my slacks. I’m a brick wall. “Thank you.”
She ropes you in, Thatcher, Banks said. I didn’t believe him. Whenever you hear about a heckler railing on Jane, you look like you want to pop them between the eyes, Banks told me. And she’s not even your client. What do you think’ll happen if you actually join her detail?
Eight months later, I know I’m in deep, but I can control myself and my nine-inch cock.
Oh God, Thatcher, I’m dripping wet right now. You’ve soaked me like Niagara Falls. Please, please plunge your sinful tongue inside of me.
“Jane Cobalt is so ditzy in comparison. Rose Calloway is fierce and dominant. It’s hard to believe Jane Cobalt is even her daughter.”
It’s becoming shamefully easier to say, I am not worthy to be a Cobalt.
You asked what I was doing when I was eighteen to twenty-two. I was in the Marines, Jane.”
MODERN DAY CINDERELLA: JANE ELEANOR COBALT IS LOOKING FOR HER PRINCE CHARMING.
All the normally frizzed strands of her hair are erased, and her freckles are gone. The fucking jackass who did this—they shrunk her nose and moved her eyes closer together. Naturally, one of her blue eyes is round, the other oval, and they’re the same size in this picture. Her features more symmetrical and even. I’m going to fucking kill him. “It’s so odd,” Jane mutters.
“You’re prettier without it,” I say without thinking. Goddammit. It’s too late, and I’m not about to retract what I believe and form a fucking lie. I glance down at her. Shock slowly breaks apart her lips.
This jackass wants Jane to be with someone in high society. A business mogul. A helicopter-riding, yacht-owning educated rich prick. Someone so unlike me.
Our source, Jane’s grandmother, confirms.
“Oh my God,” Jane says in one breath, unblinking. “My grandmother has officially lost all sense of reality.” Her rich grandmother contacted the press, her rich grandmother paid for the ad, and I’ve been mentally calling her rich grandmother a fucking jackass. Still applies. Maybe even more.
Their grandmother is stealing this once-in-a-lifetime moment from Maximoff. He’s supposed to enjoy his engagement, and she’s shining a spotlight on Jane instead.
Everything in that ad—I don’t have. What does any of that matter? My body tenses, and I study the perimeter. I’ve got a job to do.
Until an image pops up in my head. In strong waves, I’m thrusting my erection between her trembling thighs. She’s clung to me on a mattress. Her legs trying to find support while I feed into her pleasure. I rock deeper inside her soaked warmth that tightens around my cock. And I watch orgasm after orgasm ripple through her body. I see her clearly. Brown wavy hair, frizzed pieces caressing freckled cheeks. Long lashes that shade glimmering, overcome blue eyes. “Thatcher,” she gasps. Fuck.
I’m back thrusting. Into her. She gasps like she’s melting inside hot euphoria. High-pitched, pleasured noises jolt out of her parted lips. “Thatcher, Thatcher!” Sweat beads around her perked nipples. Tears squeeze out of her eyes. Jane. I give Jane the sex she deserves.
Did you tell her we’re combat vets?” “No.” “Did you tell her you were a squad leader?” “No.” Banks scratches the scruff on his jaw. “What you’re telling me then is you’ve given her a millimeter, and you made an oath with Jane to be more transparent.” He lifts his shoulders in a tight shrug. “Just go the full hundred yards, Thatcher.”
I haven’t forgotten my brother. Couldn’t forget Banks if my life depended on erasing him from existence.
“Not that I stare at your chest…all the time. Because I don’t…” She pauses. “Though, it’s inevitable to look at your chest. Because, you see, your chest is connected to your neck which is connected to your face…” She touches her forehead like she’s burning up. “And it’s in my line of sight.”
“But in my family, there’s also a thrill in irritating my dad with superstitions. As you’re probably aware, along with the rest of the world, he’s solely logic-based, but my mom is very much fate-driven. I suppose I’m somewhere in the middle.” She has a lot of love for Rose and Connor. In the public eye, her parents might as well be gods. Impossible to live up to, and I’ve seen that immense pressure weigh on her shoulders.
It’s just you and me, old chap. And then it wasn’t. Not anymore, not entirely. Farrow Redford Keene came into vivid focus. With a picturesque know-it-all smile, unflappable confidence, and cascade of pirate tattoos. He’d comb a hand through his dyed platinum hair, roll his eyes, wear a teasing grin, and send my best friend into a fit of agitation. Agitation that roused attraction.
“Man, she’s hot and bothered, and there’s only one bodyguard who makes her turn that red.” Very true.
“It’s not as though I’d ever act on my hot-and-bothered feelings. I don’t trust any dick near my vagina.” Not after Nate. “…although, that’s not completely true because I do trust Thatcher. Naturally. He’s my bodyguard, but he’s off-limits, unattainable, just a man who turns me on. That’s all.” I stop myself. Thank God. Maximoff and Farrow are staring at me with piercing concern. Possibly because I’m speaking about someone they’re not fond of, and I don’t want any of what I just said to feel like betrayal. Like I’m not with them.
“You both know my feelings, and they haven’t changed.” I meet their toughened gazes. “I spend so much time with Thatcher, and I want to believe that what he did back in May isn’t who he is. He still shows deep remorse when he’s not as guarded.” I pause. “It’s been four months since he hit you, Farrow, and I don’t think he’s even forgiven himself yet.”
“I don’t love spending this much energy on a guy that I really don’t give a flying shit about.” “That’s fair.” I sip my coffee, now cold. “But,” Farrow says, running a thumb over his hoop lip piercing, “I’m not a petty fucker. He hasn’t even glared at me since your birthday.” Back in June. “And he’s not on my ass while we’re on-duty. Shit, he’s been relatively easy to work with, so something’s changed.” He looks to Maximoff, as though handing the baton over. Moffy is too rigid to even drink his tea. “Your bodyguard cares about you, Janie. And it’s on a personal level.”
sometimes I wonder if he’s realized that I’ve known he’s been experiencing some form of PTSD.
I wish I could put the past behind me as well as Farrow can. Maybe then my life wouldn’t consist of me pulling the pins off so many fucking grenades.
Did I ever imagine one of our bodyguards would be sent roadkill? In a box? With a bow wrapped around the mangled squirrel’s broken neck? No.
“Where’s my positive affirmation, Highland?” Jack wears a softer grin. “What kind are you looking for?” “What do you want to give me?” Oscar shakes a water bottle full of protein mix. Jack is about to reply. “Give it to him sloppy,” Donnelly smirks. “Ignore Donnelly,” Oscar tells Jack. “You’ll feel smarter.” Donnelly scoops pudding with his finger. “Ignoring Oscar makes your dick feel bigger.”
“Just date Moretti,” Oscar suggests so suddenly, and the room explodes in two exclamations: “What?!” “Oscar?!”
Can we do this? Should we do this? Am I in the strangest dream? And do I even want to wake up? No.
“I’m pro-Jane.” His intense green eyes speak a thousand promises. To always stick by my side. Through every terrible and wonderful thing. My eyes burn with emotion, and I feel a smile at my lips. Very casually, Farrow
“I want to make this clear.” I rub my mouth and then drop my arm. “This arrangement isn’t a free pass to sleep together. No matter how…” Don’t say the word horny in front of her like we’re fourteen. I’m twenty-eight. She’s twenty-three. I restart, “No matter how attracted we both are to each other.” Her mouth falls and wavers into a shocked smile. “You just said out loud that you’re attracted to me.”
“Specifically, my cock isn’t going inside your pussy.” Jane crosses her ankles, her chest concaving in arousal. “I usually dislike when guys say pussy, but…that was good…very direct and assertive.” She smooths her lips together. “Assertiveness suits you.”
There is only one of Jane, no other person can be all of who she is, and anyone who harasses this girl might as well be tearing the wings off an angel. I’m honored that I get to be the one to keep her safe. She’s my duty. I also shouldn’t want to fuck an angel.
“I could bench press you all night.”
“You’re meant to be in my arms, Jane.”
I want to set her down, kneel at her feet, hike her leg over my shoulder and eat her out until she hits a trembling peak. I want to take care of Jane and satiate her fucking needs, but also do it when there aren’t ten people downstairs. I want to obey my orders and the leads. I have to obey the leads. I want Jane.
“That’s also my toothbrush.” Oh no. Maximoff goes rigid. “No it’s not.” He checks. Oh it is. Farrow laughs and pushes into the bathroom. They have this moment where he cups Maximoff’s jaw and kisses his lips tenderly in greeting, and they murmur under their breath to one another. Their hands pulling each other closer. Chest to chest.
Do not have sex with Jane Cobalt.
