Stricken Trust (Stricken Rock) (15 page)

“I’m going to come,” He grunts and starts to pull out, reaching behind me I grab his butt and hold him inside.

“Come inside me baby,” I moan, still shaking.

His arms hold me closer and he jerks his cock into me. “I love you,” He moans and empties his seed inside my greedy core. I squeeze my walls around him, milking the rest of his warm goodness from his cock. Slowly he relaxes his body and lets out a long satisfied breath.

“Damn.” He curses and I hold back a laugh. James doesn’t cuss, hardly ever, if he does. It sounds strange coming from him. I, on the other hand, I have quite the potty mouth.

“You can say that again.” I smile so wide my face almost hurts.

“Damn,” he chuckles and kisses my shoulder.

“You sound funny when you curse. But it’s kind of sexy.” I grind my butt against him. His member is still hard and nestled deep inside my come filled hole.

“Is there anything about me you don’t find sexy?” He teases.

“Hum…” I tap my finger on my chin for effect and he tickles my side making me squeal. “I think you’re pretty perfect, my sexy man.”

“Even if I’m old enough to be your dad?” He drops his tone and I can instantly tell he’s feeling bad about our love making. James, James, James. It’s not like he took advantage of me. I’ve been trying to sleep with him for a week and would have done it sooner if I’d known he was interested. He worries too much.

“Calvin James. Stop that right now.” I order and grab his hand, bringing it to my lips. “I think
—
” I kiss a knuckle. “
—
that you are wonderful.” I kiss another. “I want to do that.” Another kiss. “
—
All the time.” Kiss. “
—
I love who you are.” I finish and linger the last kiss on his thumb.

“Okay… But it doesn’t bother you?”

“Not in the least bit. Don’t ruin this. Enjoy it. Enjoy us.”

We lay and cuddle in each other’s arms until his member goes flaccid and he pulls him out from between my legs. His wetness begins to trickle out and I cup my hand over my sex to hold a piece of him inside.

Flipping over with my hand still holding my sex
,
I say, “So tell me about yourself.”

It’s not like I don’t know some about James. We’ve known each other for quite a few months and I know his habits and cute little idiosyncrasies. For example; when he folds his bathroom towel he does them into thirds then folds them down the center. Kind of like an expensive hotel. His toothbrush is always put away, he leaves socks sitting on the floor next to his bed and picks them up every morning and tosses them into the dirty laundry. He uses Old Spice deodorant and whitening toothpaste. He polishes and shines up his boots once a week. I’m sure that has something to do with his military training. We have eight guns in our condo and I’ve never even shot a gun. Growing up in Indiana doesn’t mean you know how to shoot. Another funny thing about James is he doesn’t believe in using household chemicals to clean. He’s strictly a vinegar and water kind of man. Just like my mom. The only chemicals he uses is bleach if needed and toilet bowl cleaner. Another bonus to him is he never leaves the toilet seat up. Even being a bachelor for so long and still peeing standing up, the toilet seat is always down. Plus, if I cook he does the dishes. If he cooks, I do them. It’s a good push and pull in our strange relationship.

With as much as I know about him on an everyday level. I know little about his personal life minus the past girlfriends, a little about his family and the torture he endured while in Iraq. I’d love to know more. But he’s not been very open to sharing that much. Yet.

“What do you want to know?” he asks, rubbing his hand along the curve of my body.

“Everything you want to tell me.”

“I’ll ask you a question and you answer and you ask me one and I’ll do the same. Sound fair?”

I nod. “You go first.”

“You’re an only child too. So how was it growing up?”

“Fine. I have a fantastic mom and dad. My dad’s a trucker, so I didn’t see him as much as I wanted as a kid. But they are both still alive and very supportive of everything I do. Even if I think they are crazy for being that supportive.”

He frowns. “You don’t think what you’ve been doing and going through isn’t commendable?”

I shake my head. “No…I go to college, graduate, have my apartment and live a lonely existence. Then I move across country and work for a hot rock band. I sleep with Johnathan, the lead singer, and get pregnant. I fall for him and put myself through misery, date a lesbian and now I’m in bed with my bodyguard. It’s not a life a parent should be proud of. I can’t pick a partner and I get knocked up out of wedlock. Not a parent’s dream when they picture a life for their child.”

With his jaw set and his eyes a burning inferno of frustration, he stares me down. I can tell he’s contemplating his next words. I can’t help but be honest. If I was my parents, I would be disappointed. If I was smart, I wouldn’t have tried to work things out with Johnathan in the beginning. That would have shortened a lot of my heartache.

He shakes his head. “You are not a failure, Emily. You’re twenty-four years old. You’ve accomplished a lot in your life.”

I scoff a laugh. “Yeah…so much… knocked up by a famous rocker, stalked by fans and paparazzi and in love with my bodyguard. Right…” I roll my eyes.

“Is it so bad feeling this way for me? Do I disgust you?” His walls are back up and he’s in self-preservation mode. It’s weaved through his words.

Cupping his chin in my hand, I caress the stubble. “You mister, are not disgusting and I’m happy to love you. I wouldn’t change that. But you need to realize I’m not a prize. I’m a bag of trash.”

A deep frown and furrowed brows marks his face. “You are my prize, Emily. So are those babies.” He rubs my tummy. “I love them and you.”

He’s so adorable, I just wish he’d realize I’m not all that. I’m just me. There isn’t much there. Obviously not enough to keep my first boyfriend from cheating or Johnathan from screwing up or Claire from leaving me. I’m just a person people leave. I’m not the keeper. I’m the in-between girl.

Curling up closer to me, James rolls onto his back and coaxes my neck down so I’m cuddling his peck. We lay and chat for hours and hours. I rub his body up and down in slow soft delicate strokes and savor him. Soaking in his warmth and loving nature.

I learn more about James that I’d never known. Like, he’s a big dog lover and he grew up in Oregon. That’s why he loves the outdoors so much, because the redwoods were his sanctuary. I hear they are beautiful but I’ve not seen them myself. As a child, he camped, fished, and hunted, a lot by himself. His father was an investment banker, that’s where he got his gift of investing from. In high school girls loved him, but he was always the shy guy who never pursued the ladies. And, much to my surprise, James has only had seven sex partners. Compared to Johnathan’s hundreds, it makes me feel good that James is cleaner cut than that. At least with him, I know what I’m getting into, and I don’t have to worry about him hopping into bed with another woman. Watching them fuck around with other men, yes. That’s part of his job when he’s not protecting me. The whole band partakes in orgies. And the bodyguards are forced to watch. That I can handle. The actual screwing, I cannot.

Today is the last day of our vacation here in the wonderful cabin in Colorado. This week has flown by. Probably because James and I have spent the past five days shacked up in our bedroom trading sexual favors and talking. We’ve made love a dozen more times and grown closer than I ever imagined. The babies that are now the size of papayas have been active every day and provided us with a lot of much appreciated entertainment. We’ve even talked about baby names this week. Coming up short with any real decision.

I refuse to think about going back to reality tomorrow. I’ve enjoyed the James and Emily bubble this week. Taking hot baths together, rocking on the porch, wrapped in blankets. This is what every woman dreams of when she pictures the perfect man in the perfect place.

“What do you want for dinner tonight beautiful?” James says, leaning over the back of my favorite couch and kisses me sweetly on the lips. A giant smile cascades across my face and I grab his cheeks hold him to my lips.

“I want you for dinner.” I nibble his bottom lip and a groan pours from his minty mouth.

“No love, what does Mama Bear want to feed the cubs? You can have me all you want but the cubs need actual sustenance,” he says as I let go of his face.

“Can we go out?”

“Sure, let’s get changed into something nice and I need to strap on my guns.”

I frown. “Do we really need them here? Nobody knows us.”

“I’m not taking any chances, sweetie. Just because we love each other doesn’t change the fact that those babies are a product of a very famous rock star and the entire globe knows it,” he explains in his matter-of-fact work tone.

I huff and roll off the couch. Waddling like a penguin I take the stairs and he follows behind me, pinching my butt and making me giggle the whole way. I loved this vacation. This is going to suck tomorrow. I tug off my tank top and panties and change into a fresh pair of pink boy shorts, a matching bra and a pretty long-sleeved red knit dress that makes me look like a giant cherry. I slide on a pair of white flats with a big red flower on the top. I brought them specifically for red dresses or shirts. They are adorable and a steal when I bought them on clearance for ten dollars at Forever Twenty-one.

I turn around and find my deliciously sexy bodyguard in a pair of black cargo pants, a black t-shirt, his double gun holster already strapped on and he’s bending down to strap his ankle knife on. He must really think we are in danger everywhere we go. I realize a lot of his protectiveness has to do with his experience in Iraq, but we’ve not even been noticed the two times we were in public together the past thirteen days we’ve been here.

“Do you really need the knife?” I ask, watching him check to make sure it’s secure.

“Sweetheart, I’m not chancing a thing when it comes to you. It’s not only my job that I’ve been hired to do but also my job because I love you.” He smiles and stands.

“I understand and you do look rather yummy with all that firepower. I just hate scaring the bejesus out of everyone who looks at you. You’re all sweet and loving but when someone looks at you, they are liable to piss their pants. You’re terrifying.”

A sly smile creeps from the corner of his mouth and he grabs his black leather jacket from the dresser, slings it over his shoulders tugging it on. Holy fuck, he’s sexy.

“Do you have glasses too?” I tease.

“Why yes I do.” He wiggles a brow and pulls a pair of dark tinted aviators from his chest pocket and slides them on his face.

Oh my god I think I might just come. Fucckkkk he’s hot, and he’s all mine.

Grabbing my hand, he escorts me down the stairs and throws a coat over my shoulders as we head out into the cold Colorado mid-November air. I shiver as my face is blown with frigid wind and he wraps his arm over my shoulder to keep me warm and opens the passenger side door to the Suburban. I get in with his help and I fasten my seatbelt.

Fifteen minutes later we are down the hill, parked and inside a quaint diner. The hostess couldn’t stop checking James out as we sat. I wanted to slap her but I refrained. I don’t need to make a scene.

“What can I get cha’?” Our young male waiter asks, looking only at me.

“I’ll have an ice water with lemon, and he’ll have?” I look to James. I know he usually takes either water or milk. He’s not much for pop, lately. But he does drink it sometimes. I think he’s on a healthier kick because I’m around and pregnant. He gets enough junk food with the daily Snickers bar he ingests.

“I’ll take a milk and a water,” he orders but the man won’t stop staring at me. His eyes are fixated on my face and my breasts. Switching between the two and completely ignoring the gigantic baby bump. Some men get off on looking a pregnant women but he’s a boob man. I can tell.

“Ah-hem,” James fakes clearing his throat and the man takes his gaze from my breasts and finally acknowledges him. His eyes widen and a look of horror washes over his youthful face. I hold back a giggle. I told James he could make someone piss their pants.

“Oh… ah…so...rry” The young man stutters and I bite my lip, this is all too funny.

“Sorry for what, son?” James asks in his even deeper panty dropping voice. I love it but it’s so deep and husky it probably will make the boy have to check his pants later to make sure he didn’t tinkle a little.

“Whaa…t…was….it… you’d… umm…like sir?”

“I’d like for you to take my milk and water order. But what I’d really like son is if you’d please not stare at my pregnant wife’s chest. I realize that she’s very beautiful. I did marry her, after all. But I’d appreciate if you’d like to check out a woman please let it be someone other than my wife. Gawking at her chest makes me a little edgy and you wouldn’t want me to be edgy, would you, son?” James says, as smooth as silk. His back pressed against the booth, his chest pushed out.

I love having someone protecting me. Johnathan would probably high-five the guy and tell and ask him to look some more. Okay, no he wouldn’t, he’s protective too. But he’d probably flip out and scream. James is as cool as a cucumber and just scared the life out of this poor man. As the guy stares at my hot bodyguard, James opens his jacket enough to reveal two guns holstered to his chest, and the boys eyes widen even further if that’s even possible. This is so funny. James wouldn’t hurt a damn fly unless he had to. But the waiter doesn’t know that.