Page 19 of The Brat and the Bodyguard

Ainsley sighs again.

“I know, but Justin did his job. He knows how to attract eyeballs, and we were featured on a lot of websites afterwards. Me and my tits and cunt, at least.”

I stare at her.

“Break up with this asshole. You’re not even really dating him.”

Ainsley nods, her look downcast.

“I know. We’re not a real couple. It’s just an image he wants to project to the world, and you’re right. I can’t keep up the charade because he’s controlling me, and I fucking hate it. I’m going to do it.”

I circle her wasp waist with my big hands, staring into those emerald eyes.

“You better,” I rasp. “Because you belong to me, Ainsley, and no other man is going to touch you from here on out. You’remine.”

Then, our lips meet as the curvy girl melts into my arms again, mewling her pleasure. After all, Justin West is full of shit and a bully to boot. He made my woman bare her tits and cunt for the world to see, but that’s not going to happen anymore. This particular set of tits and ass belong to me .... and me only.

9

Ainsley

It’s been a wonderful few months with Karl. The alpha male takes care of me, and I take care of him. He’s definitely doing his job as a bodyguard because he hasn’t left my side for a moment ... or my bed, for that matter. We spend hours in it, and he fucks me morning, noon, and night. He makes me moan with pleasure, and even a glance from the handsome bodyguard is enough to make me break into a full-body blush.

But this is the life, and I love it. Sure, I realize that I’m living off my brother’s dime right now, but Patrick got what he wanted too because I broke up with Justin. No more naked dresses. No more “disassociating” in order to pretend I wasn’t there. No more embarrassing paparazzi shots of me and my tits and pussy on display, looking like a drugged-out Barbie doll.

Plus, the break-up wasn’t a big deal. When I told Justin, he merely shrugged, said something incoherent, and then I was on my way. I do miss his dogs, but I know the canines are in good hands with Janice, Brenda, and Tom. They’re excellent at Wag Walkers, and I’m certain Button is getting plenty of attention and exercise.

So yes, my life with Karl is to die for. There’s so much love, sex, and passion that I’m overwhelmed with gratitude. He keeps me constantly on my toes too, with funny quips and interesting stories, and we’re well-matched when it comes to our senses of humor. Who would have thought that the brat and the bodyguard would get along like a house on fire, in personality as well as in bed?

The only fly in the ointment is that I haven’t been landing many jobs as a plus-size model, and it bugs me. I know I’m pretty, and I know I have the “look” that’s in vogue right now. But my phone’s silent, and deep in my heart, I wonder if it’s because I’m no longer dating Justin West. Justin’s the one who’s a global superstar, and I was just the pretty girl on his arm. He’s still putting out platinum albums, and showing up in all the gossip magazines. In fact, he even has a new girlfriend now, who’s so young that I wonder if she’s even legal. Of course she must be because he’s too famous to get away with that kind of shit, but the pictures of them together are jaw-dropping because he looks positively ancient next to her fresh-faced innocence. Heck, she could be in pigtails and a school uniform, she’s so young!

But I bite my lip because it’s not my business anymore. My concern is my faltering career, and I gaze listlessly at the flatscreen on the wall as the Super Bowl plays.

“Why are people so interested in American football?” I mumble with a confused look. “All they do is bash into one another.”

Karl shoots me a grin before shrugging.

“I have no idea, sweetheart. Your guess is as good as mine because you know I’m from Sweden, and we don’t do this shit there. We ski or play soccer. American football is a mystery to me.”

I shake my head. “It’s so crazy, with all the injuries, not to mention the concussions too. The players can end up impaired for life.”

But then, the channel flips to an advertisement, and to my chagrin who shows up on the screen but Justin West? He looks like he’s in a dentist’s chair, getting his teeth fixed, but that’s exactly the kind of commercial he’d put out. The spot is bizarre, trendy, and yet all-too-compelling, and sure to get a million eyeballs on it.

I switch off the TV, disgusted.

“That bad?” Karl asks, one eyebrow raised.

I sigh, refusing to even discuss Justin.

“No, it’s fine. I just want to do more modeling, that’s all, but I haven’t been getting picked up. I don’t know. Do you think I should get new headshots for my portfolio? Or hit the pavement more? Maybe I should go to more open casting calls because peopledoget jobs from those.”

Karl’s black brows lower.

“But aren’t open casting calls for TV commercials and shit like that? Do they have those for models too?”

My shoulders slump a bit as my boyfriend massages my feet in his lap.

“Kind of. I mean, acting isn’tsofar from modeling. Do you think I could pull off a credible American accent?” I tease, trying to speak with the flat twang of the continental U.S. “Do I seem American now?”

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