CHAPTER 1
Owen
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I say to myself.
Mila Adams. She’s the whole reason I’m in the predicament I’m in. And she’s walking right towards me.
I was part of the Secret Security detail for her father, until he personally dismissed me for hooking up with Mila.
But that’s where things get messed up. If you’re going to can me from my job I should at least be guilty of the crime committed. I mean who gets sacked for sex in the workplace when they didn’t even have sex in the first place?
What a crock of shit. And what a load of garbage that anyone would think I’d hook up with some eighteen-year-old kid…especially a kid that the entire world doesn’t even know about.
While I may have been accused of not being able to keep it in my pants I know that President Adams can’t. That’s why Mila exists. When the dumbass was a senator years ago he went and hooked up with a cocktail waitress on a trip down to some taxpayer funded conference in Cancun.
Instead of just manning up, he decided to keep the whole thing a secret all these years. Sure he acknowledges her, if you consider gifts and money as acknowledgement. I don’t, but I guess in that ultra rich and powerful world those things are used like Band-Aids to paint over the problem…kind of like the comb over I see he’s been rocking these days.
The family is a disaster and I’m glad I’m out of that whole messed up scene.
But now it looks like I’m about to be thrown right back in.
When you get dismissed from the president’s security detail there aren’t exactly a ton of job offers waiting for you. You’re pretty much ostracized from the security community, and although there are a lot of us nationally and internationally the community gets really small really quick.
We’re mostly former military and police. That’s about it. Sure there are some civilians, bodybuilders and an occasional martial arts guy in the mix, but their numbers are small.
And small is how I’ve felt ever since getting the boot. My phone’s not ringing and the job market has all but dried up.
But my old boss Frankie “Four Fingers” decided to toss me a bone. He knew I was hurting so he let me bid on a couple contracts. I guess this is the one I got.
“Frankie, you’ve got to be shitting me,” I say into my mobile phone.
“It’s only for a few days, Owen.”
“Come on, man. Put somebody else on it. Switch me. I’ll do anything. I’ll stand guard at a Wal-Mart parking lot in the middle of the night before I’ll do this.”
“No backing out now, soldier. We’ve got a deal.”
We may not have anything signed but once you give your word in this business you better come through. If your word can’t be trusted how can you be trusted to protect some of the world’s wealthiest and politically connected and business elite?
“You didn’t disclose all the terms,” I say.
“What terms? You needed money. You know there’s a pile of it waiting for you after this weekend. Just keep an eye on her. She’s easy. She’ll probably be stuck to you like glue. You won’t have to do anything.”
“Stuck to me like glue, huh? Very funny.” That girl used to try to tease and torment me like the little Lolita she was. It never worked, but apparently the accusations that got back to the president did.
“Listen Owen. You back out now it’s over. You can’t get a job as it is. If word spreads that you couldn’t even protect some pampered princess then you’re toast, my man. This is your one shot at redemption and it’s an absolute piece of cake. All you have to do is not mess it up.”
“Not mess it up,” I say. Right. “Does the president know about this? He’d blow a gasket if he found out.”
“The president doesn’t need to know anything. He gives me the contract and I find somebody to work it. Who, what, when or where doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you don’t fuck me over right now. If you decide to walk away from this make sure to delete my number forever. You understand me?”
“I understand,” I say. I see Mila walking down the steps from the plane. She’s about to hit the tarmac and it’s do or die time. She knows there’s security waiting…she just doesn’t know who. “There’s just no one I can swap with?”
“Give it a rest,” Frankie Four Fingers says. “And speaking of rest you woke my ass up and you know I don’t like that. I only get a couple hours of sleep a night as it is. Now take the goddamn job like a man and quit whining. Capiche?”
When Frankie starts speaking in Italian I know it’s over.
“Yeah. I understand,” I say. “Thanks for the job man. I won’t bother you again,” I say.
“Hi bodyguard!” she says, just as I end the call.
She’s barely set foot on the tarmac and she’s already spotted me.
I nod my head and give her a quick looking over through my Ray-Ban aviators.
Maybe it’s because she’s showing a lot of skin out here in the Honolulu heat, or maybe all this sun is spiking my Vitamin D levels making me horny as hell. Either way damn she’s looking better than ever.
I never paid much attention to her when I was watching out for her before. I was being paid to guard the president, not the daughter he was keeping a secret from the world. Sure, all the Secret Service guys knew about it, but that’s our job. Our job is to keep secrets. Most are simply in the interest of national defense, but damn…right now my pants aren’t putting up much of a defense for the erection that’s appeared out of nowhere.
This is embarrassing. I’m not about to greet her with wood. She’ll notice it and so will everyone else out here. I’m six four and over two hundred and twenty-five pounds with a dick to match. I don’t exactly blend into the background.
And neither does she. She’s wearing a red dress that doesn’t make it to mid-thigh. Is that thing even covering her ass? I can’t see her ass from here, but damn those hips. She is swinging those things like on the catwalk at the Victoria’s Secret fashion show. I wonder if she’s got on red panties to match. Maybe she’s not wearing any at all.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I contract my face muscles and then quickly open my eyes wide trying to shake myself out of it. It’s not working…not at all.
She raises her hand and waves at me as she continues walking towards me. Is she speeding up? When did she start wearing heels, and why to Hawaii?
My eyes scan up her body and damn! I thought girls fully developed at like fifteen or something like that. I mean, surely she would be finished by eighteen, right? I guess not. She’s got a rack on her. Are those things even real? I hone in my line of sight. Damn, they are! I can see the jiggle.
Her face looks different too. It’s like she filled out or something. She was kind of a baby-faced kid and now she looks a little more grown up. It certainly doesn’t hurt that her hair is pulled back and she’s showing off that neck of hers. Fuck, I want to bite right into it leave some hickeys on that thing just to let her know who her daddy is.
What in the hell is wrong with me? I’m not damn Dracula.
She takes the last few steps toward me and I put my left hand in my pocket. I grab my dick as best I can through my pocket and press it against my leg.
She leans in for a hug. Fuck me. I just stand there like a log as she squeezes all that goodness against me way to tightly.
“I can’t believe it’s you!” she says.
“How did I get so lucky?”
And how did I get so unlucky?
This weekend is going to be the death of me.