Antonio
As the weeks went by, I found I was starting to get used to Melinda Cantonneli and her loud, overbearing personality. After spending a few nights looking after her, I started to understand exactly what she was up to. Basically, it seemed like she wanted as much attention as possible…until she didn’t.
Rodrigo was warming toward me more than ever. He passed me a bonus of six thousand dollars after my first two weeks watching Melinda, and I put most of the money in savings. It was one of the first times in my life that I wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck, and I couldn’t deny that I was enjoying it.
But it wasn’t just the money. There was something about Melinda that made it hard for me to tear my eyes away from her, even at moments when I shouldn’t have been watching. Sure, she was a handful. And she could be incredibly bratty when she wanted. But I was starting to see that something more was happening between us, and that made me feel more uneasy by the day.
“I want to go dancing tonight,” Melinda announced. We were sitting in Rodrigo’s dining room, picking at the remains of Indian food I’d ordered the night before. I hadn’t meant to come over that night, but Melinda had called and said she was hungry. When I arrived, she was in pajamas and sulking because she didn’t feel like leaving the house. When I tried to leave, she whined about being lonely.
So I stayed with her. Not in her room, obviously. I slept on the couch in one of the guest rooms. But we watched movies, and I ordered two hundred dollars worth of takeout.
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it’s been like, almost a week,” I said sarcastically. “I bet you’re really dying to make some poor fool cream his pants.”
Melinda glared. “You don’t understand,” she said defensively. “It’s not like Dad lets me date. This is the only time I can be around men.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever,” I said. “I’m going home and getting a few hours of sleep. I’ll be over later to pick you up. What time do you want to go?”
Melinda pouted when I got up from my chair. “You can’t leave,” she demanded. “Who am I going to talk to?”
I shrugged. “Yourself, for all I care,” I said. “I slept like shit on that couch last night, and unless you want me falling asleep on the job, I need a real nap.”
Melinda grinned wickedly and I felt my cock chafe against my boxers. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want,” she said demurely. “Maybe I want you to fall asleep so I can run away with some wicked guy I meet on the dance floor.”
I stood up, shaking my head. “You’re hopeless,” I told her.
Melinda pouted. “I don’t want you to leave,” she said.
“Tough shit, princess,” I told her as I walked out the front door.
But when I got home, I couldn’t relax. I kept thinking of Melinda. The way her dark brown hair tumbled over her shoulders and down to the small of her back. The way her breasts pushed together in an alluring display of cleavage. The mock innocence in her blue eyes when she knew she was being naughty.
Groaning, I turned on the water in the shower. I couldn’t help but stroke my cock until I came, thinking of Melinda and the sweet vanilla-rose perfume she’d been wearing the other day. I tried thinking of other women – but nothing worked. This will be the first and only time. I’m not going to make a habit out of this. She’s the boss’s daughter, for God’s sake! She’s completely off-limits.
Besides, I had a nagging feeling that despite her naughty way of flirting, Melinda didn’t have very much experience with men. I saw that in the club all the time – guys would come onto her, and she’d shy away as soon as the music stopped. It was like dancing was the only method of communication where she felt comfortable and confident.
She was a frustrating enigma, but I still found myself looking forward to spending time with her.
I mean work. I found myself looking forward to work.
After I jerked off in the shower, I fell asleep on my own couch watching a football game. When I woke up, it was dark and I had six missed calls from Melinda.
Shaking my head, I called her back.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” I said. “Saw you called a bunch. What’s up?”
Melinda sighed in exasperation. “Where were you?”
“I told you, I was sleeping.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re fuckin’ impossible, you know that?”
Melinda giggled. “Well, come over,” she said. “I’m ready to go out. Oh, and can you bring some chicken nuggets? I’m really craving them. And a lemonade, too. Oh! And some barbecue sauce. You don’t mind, do you Antonio?”
I groaned. “No,” I said, hissing through gritted teeth. “I don’t mind.”
When I pulled up in the driveway, it was clogged with shiny high-end sports cars. I frowned, because I hadn’t realized Rodrigo was hosting a party that evening. I hoped he wouldn’t try to pull me inside; I didn’t feel like fielding his questions about Melinda. I was tired.
Of course, I was also feeling slightly guilty for having jerked thinking about Melinda earlier.
“Hi!” Melinda chirped, opening the door before I was even on the front porch. “Did you bring my nuggets?”
I thrust the greasy paper bag towards her. Melinda grabbed it and skittered away, her heels clattering across the marble foyer. Rodrigo had a great house – it looked like something right out of a magazine – but I knew it had been built from dirty money. I also knew I shouldn’t care about that, but it sent a little chill of dread through me when I thought about how powerful Rodrigo was.
“Antonio,” Rodrigo said heavily. He grinned, clapping me on the shoulder. “Come, have a drink with Marty and me.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, Sir.” I shrugged. “I’m taking Melinda out – wouldn’t want to drink anything before getting behind the wheel.”
Rodrigo nodded. “Smart kid,” he said. “Have fun, you two.” He beamed at Melinda and she beamed right back.
“I’m ready,” Melinda said. “Come on, Antonio. Let’s go.”
“What about your food?”
Melinda was still holding the bag. She shrugged. “I’ll eat in your car,” she said, smiling sweetly. “That’s okay, right?”
Inwardly, I groaned. “Yeah,” I said. “Sure. Fine. Whatever, Melinda.”
Just as we were walking out the front door, another car pulled up in the driveway with a loud screech of tires on cement that made Melinda cry out. A man climbed out from the driver’s side and started walking across the perfectly groomed lawn, kicking up clods of dirt and grass with every violent step.
When he got closer, I realized it was Alexander Rex. As he jogged up to the front door, he saw Melinda and did a double-take.
“Holy shit,” Alexander said. “Where the fuck are you going looking like that?”
Melinda reached into the paper bag and took out a chicken nugget, biting into it as she glared at Alexander. “I’m going out,” she said snootily, tilting her nose into the air. “Bye, Alexander.”
She pranced past him, her heels clicking delicately on the concrete. Alexander stared for a moment then darted after her and grabbed her by the arm. The fast food bag fell from Melinda’s arms to the pavement, and she glared at Alexander when she realized what he’d done.
“Leave me alone,” Melinda hissed. “Antonio!”
Immediately, I jogged over. “Let her go,” I growled. Side by side, Alexander and I were almost the same height. He was bulkier than I was, but I knew it would be a fairly even match if we were to fight. For a moment, I thought he was going to punch me. But after a few seconds, he relented and let go of Melinda’s arm.
“Have fun,” Alexander called sarcastically after Melinda as she stalked off. “Slut!”
In the car, Melinda was unusually quiet. As often as I wished that she’d shut up, it was unnerving to be around her and not hear an endless stream of chatter.
“Sorry,” I said as we pulled into the parking lot of Hurricanes. “He’s an asshole.”
Melinda nodded.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
She climbed out of the car and stalked into the club before I could say anything else. With a sigh, I followed after her like a faithful dog.
Melinda was already tearing up the dance floor by the time I got inside. She was grinding her ass on a big guy with a shaved head and a button-down shirt that looked faintly metallic in the dim club lighting. As the music thumped and growled through the speakers, Melinda wiggled her body and tossed her hair around like she was in a music video from the eighties. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her strut her stuff all around the dance floor. Even when the other guy grabbed her by the waist and ground on her ass, it didn’t bother me.
Well, it didn’t bother me that much, anyway.
After a couple of songs, I could tell Melinda was eager to get on with her usual routine. She kept dancing away from the guy in the silver shirt, but he was more persistent than most of her dance partners had been in the past. He followed Melinda around the dance floor, shaking his head to the beat of the song.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I watched the guy go up to Melinda and grab her from behind. I leapt up from my seat and sprinted across the club floor. As soon as I was at Melinda’s side, I grabbed the guy by the collar and threw him off the floor.
“She doesn’t want you around anymore,” I growled loudly. “So stay the fuck away, you got that?”
The guy bristled with anger. He started pushing back his sleeves, and I casually lifted the hem of my shirt, exposing the gun that was holstered at my side. At the sight of the gun, the guy rolled his eyes and dashed off into the crowd.
Melinda was standing there watching me, her eyes wide. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, shaking her head. “Really, Antonio. I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” I said, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her close. “You can’t handle yourself, Melinda.”
“I’m fine!” Melinda hissed. “Jesus Christ, leave me alone!” She yanked her arm out of my grasp and stalked off in the direction of the bathrooms.
Rolling my eyes, I slunk back to my booth and picked up my soda.
When Melinda hadn’t come back ten minutes later, I started to worry. I pushed my way through the crowd and kicked open the door to the unisex bathroom. Melinda looked up in wide-eyed surprise. She was hunched over the back of the toilet, standing next to a guy I’d never seen before.
On the back of the toilet was a small mirror with fat white lines of powder. Angrily, I grabbed Melinda by the wrist and pulled her out of the bathroom.
“Hey!” Melinda cried angrily. “What the fuck are you doing? Let me go,” she hissed, trying to tug herself free from my grip. “Why the hell do you care if I do drugs?”
I growled, not answering with words as I pulled her out of the club and pushed her roughly against the painted brick wall. Melinda’s breasts were heaving with every breath and her face was oily with sweat. Her dark hair was pushed back and her blue eyes were very wide.
“You’re my responsibility,” I growled. “You can’t do that. You can’t do anything illegal, Melinda. Don’t you know how dangerous that is? If it was cut with something, you could be dead right now!”
Melinda just stared right back at me. I was glad she was strong – not one of those girls who cried at literally everything – but right now, I was seething with anger.
“Leave me alone,” Melinda growled, trying to push past me.
“No,” I hissed. “Not until you tell me that you’re not going to touch drugs again, do you understand?”
When Melinda didn’t answer, I scooped her up, threw her tiny over my shoulder, and started carrying her towards the car.