DEEP: The Complete Man Candy Trilogy (35 page)

Killing time so to speak.

But this... this was something else entirely. This was hell.

My skin was hot. My cock was twitching. My balls ached.

Because of
her.

And she was doing it on purpose.

Tease didn't even start to cover it. There was nothing overt about it either. It was subtle. But for some reason, my client had decided to drive me insane with lust.

And it was working. For some strange reason, this girl was getting under my skin. So many had tried and failed. This feeling of out of control desire was entirely new to me.

Not that I was going to let her know that.

I grit my teeth. Soon she would start to bore me. I'd see what a brat she was. I'd see her with other guys. I'd see how spoiled she was.

I'd lose interest.

I just had to wait it out. I glanced at the water just in time to see her climbing out of the pool. The water ran over her back and over the round globes of her ass. I groaned aloud.

Dammit.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in?"

She smiled at me, toweling herself off. Jesus, I was jealous of a damn towel!

"I'm working."

"When do you stop working?"

I looked away.

"Never."

Her smile was sad as she titled her head, staring at me.

"Me either."

The girls went inside and settled in for the night. I waited until it was quiet and then secured all the doors and windows. I stripped and got into the shower. I flinched as the cold water hit my back.

It felt awful but I relished the pain. I knew it was the only thing that would cool me down. With steely discipline I stood under the water until my cock started to go down.

I crawled into bed a half-hour later and fell into a deep sleep.

Trista

"I slept a lot better knowing you were here, Joss. Didn't you girls?"

I giggled at the way that Shast was batting her eyelashes at him. Poor Joss. He was fully dressed and standing by the door while three females in pajamas flitted around him.

It was almost too funny for words.

What she said was true though. I wasn't sure why, but I had slept a lot better too. There was something reassuring about him. He was so serious. Intense. It was more than a job to him. It was
a mission.

I knew he wouldn't let anything happen to me.

Never mind all the muscles and lighting fast reflexes. I'd seen him catch a fly earlier without even looking at it. I hid a smile and poured him a cup of coffee.

Teasing Joss was just about the most fun I'd had in years.

Scratch that, it one hundred percent was. He was more fun than a basket of kittens. Too bad he wasn't as cuddly.

"I assume you take it black."

His eyes barely flicked towards me. For a second I thought he was going to refuse the coffee. But he reached out and took it.
 

"Thanks."

For a split second our hands touched and I felt a spark that shot through me. Straight to my core. My eyes grew wide as I felt a blush stain my cheeks. I turned away quickly to hide it.

He had definitely noticed though.

I even thought I saw the very edge of his mouth turn up a millimeter in the semblance of a smile.
 

Maybe.

I walked away, so flustered that I forgot to wag my ass at him. Oh well, I had plenty of opportunities for that. I had to get ready anyway.
 

"How are you feeling after your junk food escapade Queenie?"

Jenna looked worried but Shasta was grinning ear to ear.

"Yes, please do not do that again! I will get in trouble if you don't fit into your costume."

"Please, Miss thing here never gains a pound. Besides, she could always puke it up."

"You don't do that do you?"

Joss was staring at me. Really looking at me. He looked a bit disgusted. I stood up straight, mustering as much dignity as I could considering I was wearing candy colored sleep shorts and a cami.

"No, I don't."

I could have sworn he looked relieved. He nodded in approval. I ran into my room to change, feeling a warm flush of heat.
 

Why did I care what my security guard thought?

The weird thing was, I did care. I cared a lot.

Chapter Six

Joss

I walked the perimeter of the cavernous studio we were in for the day. This job wasn't boring, that was for sure. Each day had a different set and a different set of security issues.
 

The stylist had a team. The director had a team. The dancers had their own makeup team. Hair team. Craft services provided food. Lighting, sound, special effects.

Logistically, it was a nightmare. On the plus side, at least I was busy. And not thinking about all the reasons I wished I had not taken this assignment.

It had only been five days.

It had been the longest five days of my life.

I had figured out how to slow down time. Just put yourself into a situation where the thing you want is right in front of you all the time. Even worse, make it something you don't
want
to want.

That's the way to live forever. Just suffer.

I ran my hand through my hair. So far, Trista seemed like a typical teenager when she wasn't working. Other than the legions of people spoiling and coddling her constantly.

I hadn't seen a hint of drugs or alcohol, which surprised me. I hadn't heard a word about a boyfriend. Or hook ups.

That was also surprising.

I had been so sure that loads of guys were constantly beating down her door. Hoards of them.

But so far, nada.

I wasn't sure why but I was happy about that. Which was weird because 'happy' wasn't a word I usually used. Actually, never. I'd never used that word to describe myself.

The girl worked like a horse, I had to give her that. At night she was confined to the suite. Her friends did their best to keep her distracted but she was pretty much in a cage.

I frowned. It didn't seem right, keeping a beautiful, bright young girl trapped like that. Then again, it was none of my business.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that Joss.

I was checking in with the facility's in house security team when Trista came out in her first ensemble. The room got quiet as everyone stared at her. My mouth was dry as she strode to the set.

She was wearing that ridiculous schoolgirl get up that was her trademark. Only right now, it didn't look all that ridiculous. In shiny black fabric, it looked a lot less innocent that her normal signature look. Her shiny red hair was in a high ponytail that swung across her back with each step.

I had a strong urge to wrap my fist around that ponytail and drag her against me. I didn't care that it was my job on the line. Or that there was a whole room full of people watching.

If I'd been within ten feet of her, I think I would have snapped. Taken what I wanted and damn the consequences. Just gone full beast mode on her.

Thankfully, I was fifty feet away. I forced myself to look away and walk through the crowd of people working. It was unlikely that the stalker would attack now, but it was a good time to penetrate our security.

Everyone in the room was distracted by Trista. Especially with her looking like sex on wheels. I noticed that the studio rep was arguing with Shasta. Probably something about the outfit.

People would keel over if they saw their sweet little princess in that black patent leather bustier. I'd heard them talking about it last night. Trista wanted to start dressing her age. They were trying to sneak it past the studio.
 

This get up was the compromise.

I snorted. Good luck with that. You couldn't hide that outfit from anyone.

She was a walking, talking boner factory.

They would have to have their heads literally up their own asses to miss that get up.
 
Then again... everyone but Trista and her inner circle did seem to have their heads up their ass...

I stopped by the edge of the set, watching Trista adjusts the top of her over the knee stilettos. I swallowed as her dainty little finger slid along the top edge, rubbing her perfectly toned, bare thigh.

I found myself wondering
exactly
how old she was for the hundredth time.

Either way it didn't matter.

Even if I dated clients, which I did not, she was still far too young for me.

I walked behind the set and into her dressing room. I'd checked it ten times already today. But I still should not have been surprised when I walked in on a sweaty looking middle aged man with his hand in the cookie jar, so to speak.

He turned and stared at me, his hand holding a pair of Trista's pink lace panties against his nose as he inhaled deeply.

"You have got to be kidding me."

Trista

Everyone was silent as the police dragged the man away. I stared, wondering what the man had done. He worked here apparently. But he'd been in my dressing room.

But why?

I headed back that way. Now that they were out of there, I wanted to make sure my stuff was okay. My grandmother's wedding ring which I wore on a thin gold chain, for example.

My father had died young, leaving my mother to raise me. His mother had stepped in more than once when it got to be too much for my mom. In the end, Grans had been more of a parent to me than my own mother.

I missed her every single day.

"Where are you going?"

I shrugged off Jenna.

"I want to check my stuff."

"Joss is in there."

"So?"

"He won't like it-"

"
He
works for
me
, remember?"

I pushed the door open and came face to face with my ridiculously good-looking bodyguard. He was more than that of course, he was the head of his own security firm. But that's how I thought of him.
My
bodyguard. I let my eyes wander over his muscular frame.

'Body' was right...

He frowned at me.

"You can't be in here right now."

"It's my dressing room. Remember?"

He just stared at me. He looked... uncomfortable somehow.

"What was he doing in here anyway?"

"Nothing. I need to make sure he didn't leave anything behind."

"Leave? Or take?"

"Either."

I stared at him. He blocked my way. It was a standoff.

I raised my chin.

"I just want to make sure my grandmother's necklace is here. If that's okay with you."

He'd have to be an idiot to miss the sarcasm. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. I blinked. It was the most human thing I'd ever seen him do.

That's when I noticed he had something behind his back. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"What is going on Joss? What is that?"

"You don't want to know. Listen, I'll look for your grandmother's necklace and bring it out to you in a minute, okay? Let me just finish bagging anything he might have touched."

I stared at him, chewing my lip. Then without warning I reached behind him and grabbed. He held perfectly still, staring into my eyes. We were inches apart.
 

I pulled my arm back, and stared at the ziplock bag.

"Panties? What are you doing with my panties, Joss?"

He stared at me. I didn't step away. Neither did he.

"Sending them out for testing. You don't want them back anyway."

I stared into his eyes then handed them back to him.

"Why not?"

"Just trust me, Trista."

I nodded slowly.

"Okay."

He blinked those gorgeous eyes of his.

"It might surprise you, but I do trust you."

I smiled.

"Don't fuck that up."

Chapter Seven

Joss

I was practically vibrating with anger as I finished dealing with the police. They were going to run the guy's prints and get me everything. I asked them to pull a DNA sample as well.

The thought of that guy with his dirty hands on her panties was making me angry. Angrier than I'd been in my life. I knew it was wrong not to tell her exactly what had happened but I didn't care.

There was no way in hell I was telling that sweet girl that a filthy pig had her panties all over his face. Maybe she wouldn't care. But I did.

I fucking cared a lot.

I found a quiet spot and pulled out my laptop to add this perv's information to the stuff I'd been compiling. I wanted to check something too. In the dozens of messages the stalker had sent, he had included some with her garbage in them.

I wanted to make sure he hadn't done this before.

I scrolled through the images, getting angrier and angrier. All of this sick shit and why? Because her handlers had her parading around in those ridiculously skimpy outfits.

On the sound stage she was now back in her regular schoolgirl look, plaid skirt and suspenders. Her knee socks were pristine white as she kicked her legs high in the air.

I'd watched the routine over and over again but I hadn't seen her perform it like this. She was bringing it. Giving 1000%.

I shook my head, trying to wrap my head around all of this. The girl was a fucking cottage industry. All because she could sing and dance.

And because every red-blooded male on the planet wanted to stick it to her.

Still, I had to admit she had talent.

I didn't listen to pop but the song was catchy as hell. I had a feeling it would be in my head for weeks if not months. Hell, I wouldn't be forgetting
any
of this for years.

I knew without a doubt I wouldn't be forgetting her.

Or the way she seemed determined to drive me crazy. Or the way the thick fabric of my jeans were the only thing keeping my semi from drawing attention to itself. Or the way I stared at the ceiling all night, struggling not to cross the suite and crawl into bed with her.

Fuck crawling. I would fucking jump into that bed like a superhero. And then I would break it.

I'd gotten used to having a constant hard on. But it was starting to wear thin. I knew I would snap if I didn't get some sort of release.

Tonight I would go for a run. Take an hour off and just sweat it out. In the meantime...