Rock the Bodyguard
Read Rock the Bodyguard Online
Authors: Loki Renard
Tags: #rock star, #spanking, #contemporary romance, #domestic discipline
Rock the
Bodyguard
By
Loki
Renard
©2013 by
Blushing Books® and Loki Renard
All
rights reserved.
No part
of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from
the publisher.
Published
by Blushing Books®,
a
subsidiary of
ABCD
Graphics and Design
977
Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville,
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The
trademark Blushing Books®
is
registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Renard,
Loki
Rock the
Bodyguard
eBook ISBN:
978-1-62750-2672
Cover Art
by stillydesign.com
This book is intended for
adults
only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies
only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as
Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity
or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents:
A great ball of fire rose across
the Pacific Ocean, casting red and gold rays across endless sea. On the golden
shore far below, a long muscular shadow was cast across the palm fringed beach.
Staring out at the great beyond, a sea breeze whipping through his short dark
hair, Miles had to admit that California was beautiful. At 6'2”, Miles Rock was
a slab of a man with a reputation for being as hard as they come. He wasn't the
sort of guy usually given to contemplating sunrises but it was nice to stop for
a minute and appreciate some of the natural beauty of the country he'd spent
ten years fighting for.
His cellphone rang, impinging on
the view with its tinny tune. He answered it. “Rock.”
“And roll!”
Miles could picture the face of the
man speaking at the other end of the call, round even in combat, and
perpetually smiling. “Hi, Kevin.”
“How are you doing, Miles? Found
work yet?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Well I reckon you're about to
thank me,” Kevin said. “There's an opening for a personal bodyguard for,” he
paused for a moment for dramatic effect... “Cash Raine.”
Miles' forehead wrinkled in
confusion. “Who or what is a Cash Raine?”
Kevin groaned. “You really need to
get out more, Miles. You're not old yet.”
“I'm out right now.”
“No, I mean, out as in...” Kevin
sputtered with annoyance. “I mean, get acquainted with modern culture. Cash
Raine is a singer. You know, a rock star. She's young, but she's the biggest up
and comer of the year. It's time she got some decent security – and I don't
reckon I know a more decent man than you, Miles.”
Flattery was not going to get Kevin
anywhere. Miles clenched his jaw and shook his head. "I'm not interested
in tailing some hyper-sexed brat."
"The pay is good, Miles,
better than good. And she's not so bad."
Miles was not convinced. Now he
thought about it, he was pretty sure he'd caught the first thirty seconds of
Cash Raine's recent music video "Rodeo Stick" and he hadn't been
impressed by it. Just another vapid little girl shaking her assets for the
world at large whilst singing lyrics that were both indecent and trite. Miles
didn't know what had happened since the 80's, all he knew was that all this
modern music was making him feel old long before his time.
Kevin uttered fateful words, an
appeal to Miles' friendship. “Just meet her, Miles. Can you at least do that?
As a favor?”
*
* * * *
Miles had agreed as a favor to
Kevin. Now he was standing outside a hotel suite feeling irritable and tense.
There was a ridiculous crowd down in the lobby sporting outlandish accessories
and brandishing hysterical signs declaring their love for Cash Raine, or Ca$h
Raine, as it was more often spelled by people who scrawled the name into squares
of poster board.
“Miles!” Kevin called his name.
Miles almost didn't recognize his old comrade. Kevin didn't look anything like
he had in Afghanistan. The thick bushy beard was gone, replaced with a five
o'clock shadow. The hair that had once been cropped military short was now
brushing against his collar. It was hard to believe that the fashionable man
dressed in the expensive Italian suit used to crawl through miles of mud and
blood on Miles' orders. They embraced with a great deal of backslapping.
“Thanks for coming,” Kevin said, beaming broadly. “We have a couple of agency
guys working this tour, but I'd feel much more comfortable knowing you had her
back.”
“I'm not promising anything,” Miles
warned him.
“I know, I know, just say hello,
okay?”
Miles grunted as he was ushered
into a large room that reeked of hairspray and perfume. There were people
milling about everywhere, talking on cellphones, carrying cups of coffee,
wielding bits and pieces of cosmetic equipment. In the middle of it all was the
star herself, Miss Cash Raine, a small, slight figure sitting amid a whirl of
activity. She was staring off into space, a thoughtful, intelligent expression
on her face whilst a stylist curled a huge blonde wig atop her head.
“Cash?”
Kevin tried to get her attention
and failed. She was obviously off in some daydream, a little smile establishing
itself on her pale lips. To Miles' surprise, she didn't look nearly as tarty as
she'd appeared to be in her video – though it seemed the stylists were working
on rectifying that.
Without make up on, she was fresh
faced and pretty, just a sweet, normal girl. She was attractive, certainly, but
she bore little resemblance to the half-dressed would-be harlot in her
promotional pictures. In person, she looked a lot younger, and a lot more
vulnerable.
“Cash!” Kevin snapped his fingers
and waved his hand in front of her face. She came back from wherever she'd been
with a start.
“Kevin!” She said, her lips parting
in a small smile of amusement. Though there was madness all around her, she was
completely serene, detached from it all.
“I want you to meet someone,” Kevin
said. “This is Miles Rock, he's a top security man.”
Cash looked up and met Miles' eyes.
For a moment, time stopped. Her eyes were a bright sapphire blue, no doubt the
result of colored contact lenses, but it wasn't the color that made Miles'
heart skip a beat, it was the open innocence of the look. This girl wasn't the
jaded celebrity he'd been expecting, she was a complete lamb.
“Hello,” she said, smiling brightly.
“You're very tall.”
Miles didn't often smile for
recreational purposes, but he felt the corners of his mouth turning up at the
edges. “Yes, I am,” he agreed.
“Are you going to be my bodyguard?”
The question was direct, but tempered with dulcet tones.
Miles glanced over at Kevin and saw
a crafty smirk on the man's face. Damn Kevin, he'd known exactly how Miles
would react to someone like Cash Raine in person. There she was, a sweet girl
asking for his protection. How on earth was he going to say no to her?
“It sure seems that way,” he said,
turning his attention back to Cash. His heart melted a little more as her smile
grew quite bright.
“Good,” she said. “I can already
tell you'll keep me safe.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “I'm a very
good judge of character.”
Miles smiled. Most people thought
they were good judges of character; he'd yet to come across anyone who claimed
to be a terrible judge of character. Still, he couldn't blame a nineteen year
old for thinking she knew everything.
“Well there we go, it's settled!”
Kevin clapped Miles on the back and beamed.
“Settled?” Miles shook his head.
“Surely there will have to be an interview with Miss Raine's management and
parents.”
Cash laughed. “I make the
decisions,” she said. “And I like you.”
“And you've hired everyone on this
basis?” Miles couldn't help but sound disapproving. “Kevin, I'm going to need
the details of everyone working for Miss Raine.”
“See?” Cash beamed. “You're already
getting to work.”
Miles turned to Cash, his gray eyes
darkening so they were almost black with seriousness. “I should warn you, Miss
Raine. If I'm to be in charge of security, there will be changes. There will be
an order to things. Is that agreeable to you?”
Cash's eyes sparkled, then her face
contorted as a make up artist began applying blusher to her cheeks. “Sure,” she
said. “You're the boss.”
Miles wasn't sure he quite believed
that. He saw something else in Miss Raine's gaze – a sharp intellect that
belied her pretense of casual indifference.
“I have a concert tonight,” she
said. “You could come to that if you like...” she paused for a moment as a make
up technician applied dark lip liner to her lower lip. “... if you can suffer
through it.”
Miles cocked his head to the side.
“You think I might not?”
“They're noisy,” she said. “Kevin
doesn't like them.”
Miles glanced at Kevin and
understood what Cash was referring to. A lot of vets, including Kevin, did not
respond well to loud booming noises and chaotic environments. “I'll bring
earplugs,” he said with a wink.
“Good, I shriek a lot,” she replied
with unexpected self-deprecating humor clearly designed to spare Kevin's
feelings.
“Oh you do not,” Kevin laughed.
“She's got a hell of a set of pipes on her, this one.”
“Let's make it a trial,” Cash said.
“Do the job for the next twenty-four hours. Come to the concert, stay here
tonight. There's a million rooms to choose from and you can...” she paused for
a teasing moment. “... show me all your rules. What do you say?”
Again, Miles was surprised. The
slip of a girl was taking control of the situation in a gentle, but decidedly
effective way. Kevin was hiding another smile. Damn the man, this trap was a
lot stickier than Miles had first supposed.
*
* * * *
That evening, Miles found himself
in what he would previously have considered to be one of the least likely
places in the world – back stage at a Ca$h Raine concert. He'd barely seen Cash
since their interview, she'd been whisked away for more makeup and rehearsals
and he'd been at the venue itself, looking the place over and identifying
potential problems. He'd kept an eye on the crowd as the place filled, mostly
with excited teenagers and youngsters in their early twenties. Miles knew he
wasn't that much older than most of them, but a gulf of experience separated him
from the carefree guys and girls already leaping up and down in anticipation.
He was so busy working that he
first became aware of the concert starting when the lights went down and a
rumbling began to emanate from the speakers, shaking the entire stage. Hidden
in the wings, Miles kept his eyes trained on the spot where Cash was to emerge.
The rumble grew into a roar and as the crowd screamed at the top of their lungs
with one voice, a pulsing beat began to emanate in a steady, slow rhythm that
grew in speed until it was pounding like a runner's heart. Red and orange
lights cast a dramatic glare over the stage, which was built to resemble a
gleaming steel pyramid in the middle of a desert. With another tremor of bass,
fake tumbleweed went blowing across the stage and bumped up against the
pyramid, which lit up like a jewel, gleaming and glittering for all to admire.
At the peak of the beat, Cash's voice broke over the bass in a silky smooth
purr that made a tingle go shooting down his spine.
“Are you ready... for the rodeo?”
The shrieks from the crowd, which
Miles thought could surely not grow any louder, rose to a new crescendo,
forcing him to adjust his earplugs. The speakers boomed, pyrotechnics flashed
at both sides of the stage and in an instant, Cash was there, projected larger
than life on the two screens mounted either side of the main stage.
She stood at the top of the
pyramid, her arms crossed across her chest in the fashion of a pharaoh. Her
hair was at least a foot tall, a blonde curling mass with tendrils reaching
down to her shoulders. Heavy make up transformed her face into something he
barely recognized. Her eyes were bright sapphire blue, rimmed with thick dark
slashes of liner, her bow lips were a bright bubblegum pink and her lashes were
long enough to support small scale construction.
The outfit she wore was equally
shameless, a pair of black latex shorts so short they barely qualified as
clothing and a mesh bodysuit with extra black sequins sewn over strategic
locations. High black leather boots running all the way up to mid thigh did
little to make her appearance any more sophisticated, but there were a few
touches that transformed the ensemble from the cheap to the dramatic. For
starters there was the high white silk collar that rose from the back of her
shirt, and the equally pristine cape that flowed from it. A touch of Elvis on a
girl who'd been born almost a decade after his death.
“I said... are you ready for the
rodeo?” She lifted her arms, her toned torso shifting in pleasing ways as she
did.
The crowd's howl coincided with the
opening bars of the song. With a devilish thrust of her hips, Cash began to
sing, her distinctively rich and husky feminine voice filling the venue.
Rodeo, rodeo, met you at a
rodeo,
Want to rid – e – yo,
At the rodeo, rodeo.
Miles groaned inwardly at the
provocative lyrics, and when Cash started to gyrate her hips to the beat he
found it impossible to keep his eyes off the tight little ass showcased
perfectly in the shiny black pants. The girl could dance, he gave her that. As
the song progressed further and discussed deeper issues connected to being at
the rodeo, including raging bull metaphors, she broke into an energetic routine
that involved an awful lot of leaping around whilst simultaneously contorting her
body in ways that left Miles staggered.
Ride a bull, you're so ride a
bull,
Ride a bull my dear.
Make me full, my rodeo bull...
