Page 4 of The Brat and the Bodyguard

Karl

She’s a character, that one. When Patrick O’Lachlan hired me as a bodyguard for his sister, he warned me fair and square.

“She’s sassy,” he said. “Ainsley was born with a stubborn streak, and I’ve never been able to stamp it out of her.”

“Meaning?” I asked, one black brow raised.

“Meaning that I should have whupped her ass when she was younger,” he replies without missing a beat. “Except I didn’t because corporal punishment would have landed me in jail. But trust me, there were times when I wanted to whup her ass so bad that I literally ended up beating the dog instead.”

I squint at him, suddenly disgusted.

“You beat off?To your own sister?” I say in an icy voice.

The Irishman turns to look at me, his blue eyes cold.

“No. I beat our family dog. I’m ashamed to admit it, and have never disclosed this to anyone. But there were times when my sister was so difficult to manage that I ended up taking out my anger on another living thing.”

I pause, seriously re-thinking the job.

“So your dog. Is it still around?”

Patrick turns to pour himself more alcohol, although I notice his fingers are trembling as he tilts the decanter. When he turns back to me, he’s regained his composure.

“No, Rusty’s long since gone, and hopefully of old age. After the first few times, I realized it couldn’t keep happening. So I gave the dog away and started going to therapy. Now you know the secrets of the O’Lachlan family. Are you sure you still want this gig?”

To be honest, Iwasn’tsure. I’m not interested in sassy young women and their overbearing older brothers. I’m not interested in living in Las Vegas either, despite its reputation as Sin City. No, I’m interested in making money, and that’s about it. I just want to see the Benjamins hit my bank account because after twenty years as a professional soldier, it’s time to earn some real dough, and I don’t give a fuck what Patrick O’Lachlan says about his younger sister. She could be a fucking freak with three tits and two cunts, and I wouldn’t be bothered. But animal cruelty? No. I’m not down with that shit.

Sensing my hostility, Patrick spoke again.

“I’ve been in therapy for fifteen years since the incident,” he says in a well-modulated voice. “It works wonders, and that with my marriage and becoming a father has changed me. I assure you, it didn’t happen more than once or twice.”

I take a moment, staring at the tumbler of brandy in my hand. Then I shrugged. What the hell. Patrick went to the effort of changing his ways and seems to have succeeded. Plus, the woman herself didn’t concern me at all. I’ve fought wars on hell-forsaken grounds. I’ve burrowed into foxholes, listening to live munitions screaming not two feet above my head. How bad could a sassy redhead be? My mind was made up.

“We’re on for two million?”

“It’ll be in your bank account tomorrow,” Patrick assured me. “One million up front, and another at the end of your term.”

I placed my tumbler down before standing.

“Then we have a deal,” I said. Without shaking my new employer’s hand, I strode out of Castle Droghaire. The place is a massive pile of black stone, jagged and ugly. But it’s not a maze. I’d entered with the awareness of a soldier, mentally mapping the place, and I already knew my way out. Within a week, I was on my way to Vegas.

* * *

But today,I did not expect. I decided to do a little diligence on Miss Ainsley O’Lachlan. Patrick hasn’t told his sister that he’s hired me as her bodyguard, and I figured I’d catch her fashion show and get a sense of the woman in her element. She was one of the models, and if I was lucky, I’d put eyes on the target before heading back to the hotel and calling it a night.

Ha. In my dreams. Sure, the models were pretty, looking like painted dolls with flirtatious smiles while prancing around in revealing bikinis. Quite a few resembled Malibu Barbie, with lots of golden blonde hair streaming in the fake wind, while music blasted from overhead speakers. But when Ainsley O’Lachlan stepped onto the runway, the air evaporated from my lungs. My dick got stiff, and a chant started in my mind.Mine, mine, mine.

What the fuck? I’ve never even met this woman before! Yet as she sashayed down the runway, I couldn’t rip my eyes from those ample curves. The woman has luscious Double D tits, encased in a sheer top. Yeah, I could see the outline of her nipples, hard and pointy as they practically poked through the material. And the bikini bottoms she had on? It was basically a postage stamp held up with string. I could have flicked it away and touched her clit, it was so fucking revealing.

But the audience oohed and ahed around me, like nothing was wrong. They acknowledged that a redheaded goddess was before us, but did they not see how her assets bounced and jiggled, those creamy thighs lush and inviting? Did they not see the flash in those green eyes, and the curve of her moist pink lips? Did they not see...?

Unfortunately, it was Ainsley who didn’t see. Actually, I’m not sure what happened. She slipped, and a horrified look appeared on her delicate features.

“Ahhh!” she cried, going down in a jumble of arms and legs. But this wasn’t a simple fall because they’d greased the runway beforehand. At least, that’s what itlookedlike. The stench of coconut oil was strong, and I swear I saw someone lube that thing up with a tub of mystery liquid like it was a fucking waterslide. So when Ainsley collapsed and then began to skid towards the throng of photographers, I sprang into action. I darted from my seat in back, shouldering individuals out of the way, before holding my arms out to catch the curvy girl.

“Ooomph!” she shrieked as she collided with me at sixty miles an hour, knocking the breath out of my lungs. We went ass over heels backwards, probably doing an entire somersault in the process. But it doesn’t matter because I cushioned her fall with my bulk, shielding that curvy figure from serious injury. Yet something weird happened as well because her bikini was pulled loose by the collision. Her top came undone, exposing those giant, swinging tits, and her bikini bottoms were yanked to the side, exposing that swollen, bare pussy. Even crazier, my mouth happened to be pressed against that delicious cunt because of our awkward fall.

Yes, I did it. Imorethan did it. I didn’t just lick her cunt, savoring the flavor of aroused female on my lips. I sucked Ainsley’s clit a little too, grinning as she squirmed above me.

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