Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Only later I discovered that Tawny staged the whole thing in an effort to build ratings. Just as she hoped, America tuned in. And voted. She increased the rivalry that I would have preferred revolved around our voices, not our personalities. Unfortunately, prior to that incident, I trusted her. Enough to fill her in on my time with Ben—because stupidly, I thought Tawny was a friend, just as I thought I meant something to Ben, because he sure meant something to me.
But, as I realized later on, the same girl who staged a cat fight would have no qualms about turning me in for violating the rules about sleeping with people working on set. No doubt she hoped they’d let me go due to the infraction, leaving Tawny as the front-runner on the show.
At the time, I tried to get Ben’s job back, begged the producers, explaining our affair was mutual. I even was willing to sacrifice myself, but they opted to make an example of Ben, firing him instead. They claimed I was too popular—a front-runner even before Tawny’s staged event—to eliminate from the show.
I tried to call him and apologize. I texted my desire to talk and explain in person. He ignored my every attempt. From the tense set of his jaw, I doubt he cares to hear my explanation even now.
He studies me intently, clearly letting me process the shock of seeing him and accepting his new position in my life.
I analyze and come to one conclusion. “I really don’t think you being my bodyguard is a good idea. You know, in light of our history.”
“If I can handle it, I’m sure you can. Time has passed. We’re both adults. It’s business.” His cold voice tells me exactly where I stand.
“Fine.”
If he doesn’t mind being around me and protecting me, then I’ll make the best of the situation and pretend his icy exterior doesn’t hurt my feelings at all.
Chapter Two
Ben
I take one look at Summer and know I am in trouble. She is a true mixture of ingénue and unknowing seductress. She folds her arms across her chest, but the action does little to conceal her ample cleavage and more to push up the swells of her breasts for my viewing pleasure.
I shift positions. It is all I can do not to adjust my dick inside my pants.
“Oh, beautiful!” A woman with short-cropped dark hair walks in, clapping in delight. “I knew that dress was just perfect for your figure. Turn around. I’ll zip you.”
“Aren’t you worried about who he is, and what he’s doing here?” Summer asks, pointing to me.
The woman shrugs. “I have clients with men in here all the time. It’s nothing new. Now turn.” She gestures, and Summer spins around, revealing her sleek back and pale skin exposed thanks to the way her dress splits down the center.
I swallow hard. Hard being the word of the day now that I am around Summer again. I vividly recall tracing that expanse of skin with my lips and tongue, how she trembled and moaned at my touch. Our time together was short but potent, and I have to shake my head hard to dislodge the memories threatening to overtake me.
After finishing up with her new wardrobe, Summer heads back to the dressing room to change, reappearing in a pair of ripped jeans, black shirt, and white sneakers. Now she looks more like the girl I remember, the eager-to-please, always-happy-to-perform woman who radiated happiness and sunshine. Fuck. I have to stop thinking like a guy who is whipped when it comes to Summer and more like her security detail.
As I follow them into another room, I see rack after rack of what has to be designer clothing and thank my lucky stars I don’t have to sit through any more of the fashion show.
“Thank you so much for today,” Summer says to the stylist, whose name I’ve learned is Rose. “I just love the clothes and can’t wait to wear them.” She gestures to the huge pile she’s accumulated.
“What’s next on the agenda, princess?” I ask, an unplanned sarcastic tone to my voice to help offset my attraction to her. One that is still there and not something I welcome.
She spins toward me, her gaze narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“Isn’t that what you are? A pop princess?”
Her lips purse in annoyance. “Except coming from you, it sounds more like an insult than a compliment.”
And I, of all people, know how much her music career means to her. How much she sacrificed, including friends and a normal childhood. Because during the time we spent together, she confided so much to me, including her hopes and dreams. I am a dick for belittling them now just because she makes me feel things I don’t like or want to experience again.
“I want a new bodyguard. Someone I trust.” She hits back where it hurts me the most, because I confided in her, too, and I pride myself on a job well done. On being someone trustworthy and reliable.