14. Tyson

14

TYSON

Waking feels like coming out of hibernation.

We've spent the last fourteen hours in this hotel suite. The bulk of those hours were in bed either sleeping, enjoying each other, or watching movies.

I wouldn't change a thing.

Anytime regret creeps into my head, I push it to the backburner. I focus on the moment, where I'm lucky enough to be with a woman who's truly one of a kind.

The world might know Kiana as some sexy, talented superstar, but she's just princess to me. A nickname that started off chiding and ironic, but has turned into an expression of the real affection I have for her.

Deny it as I might, it's staring me in the face.

As she sleeps by my side, I slide my palm along her hip and pull her even closer than she already is. Her body naturally molds into mine, like distantly she recognizes I'd make a damn good pillow.

I chuckle and then press my lips to her forehead.

It's probably not a good idea that I've let my professional duty to protect her blend with personal affection, but how the hell am I supposed to resist when she's the only woman who's ever held my attention like this?

Late morning comes before she stirs. I've been in and out of sleep, my usual piss-poor sleep schedule and habits at play. We've kept the TV on the entire time, movie after movie streaming. She keeps one eye squeezed shut, the other open to scan the room.

"Look who it is," I say with a low laugh. "Sleep good?"

"Very."

Kiana opens the second eye, then sits up and yanks off the satin bonnet she'd put on the night before. She peers around the room some more as if surprised to find herself in a hotel suite in London, let alone lying in bed with me, her bodyguard.

Her hands come up to her face and she takes in a deep breath.

Shit… does she regret what happened?

I sit up beside her, concern thickening inside me.

What if she believes I took advantage of her? What if she feels like I acted inappropriately?

She was in the middle of a vulnerable moment yesterday. I should've removed myself immediately from her room the second I was sure she made it safely inside…

"Princess," I say slowly, "if you regret what happened?—"

"Regret? Why would I regret it?" she asks right away. Her hands drop from her face. "I'm thinking about the long day I have ahead of me. The fact that the last half a day is over and it's back to before. I… I don't know if I can do it. I'm not…"

She lets out a breath that tells me what I need to know. She's struggling and needs a break.

It's no wonder after what she's been through. With the threats against her and Shawn's podcast interview, it's become too much.

"Don't you get some sick days?" I ask. "Every job—or any decent job—has them."

She laughs. "Sick days? Tommy and the label don't believe in sick days. I've performed with a 102 degree fever before. And when I had COVID. The only time I got to take some sick days off was when I sprained my ankle a couple years ago. They had no choice that time."

"It doesn't hurt to try. You're out of the country. The London division isn't the same, right? Tommy's not here. Take a day for yourself, princess. You more than deserve it."

Her sultry brown eyes flick over to me as she gives consideration to what I've said.

"Maybe I could ask the British label rep that's overseeing this visit…" she mutters.

"Call them up."

Two different phone calls are placed at once.

Kiana places a call to the British label rep to inform them she's come down with a terrible stomach bug. Then there's my phone call to the front desk to order us some more room service off the breakfast menu.

We're celebrating our success twenty minutes later as we toast with mimosas and dig into our plates of eggs, sausages, fruit, and toast.

"I can't believe it actually worked," Kiana says, shaking her head in amazement. "They actually gave me the day off! Everything's been rescheduled for tomorrow."

"Damn right. You're their biggest artist. They should be treating you like gold. Not some work horse."

She smiles at me. "Thanks for advocating for me, Goliath."

"Always, princess. How're you spending your day off?"

"You tell me. What are we going to do today?"

My thick brow creases. "You want to spend your day off with me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she answers, reaching over the table we're seated at. Her gentle hand slides along my bearded cheek on a note of affection, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. "I really enjoy spending time with you. Um, don't you feel the same?"

Fuck yes I do.

"Yeah, princess," I answer. "You've got no idea how much. But it's against the contract. I'm your bodyguard. We're not supposed to… be like this."

"Last night was one of the best nights of my life."

Mine too.

She sighs, forgetting about her mimosa and plate of breakfast. Instead, her gaze wanders to the hotel window overlooking the heart of London. At the moment, a double decker red bus wanders by and light drizzle falls.

"Tyson, you've made me realize how trapped I've been. You've made me see—probably not intentionally—how soulless my life is. It's all about making the label happy and putting up this front for everyone. The entire world. The content I'm releasing isn't even what I like. It's not the music I'd want to make if I had my say."

"Is that true, princess? Then why don't you tell them? Push back against the label?"

She wipes at her eyes, casting me a sad smile. "I'm stuck for now. You mentioned your contract. But I'm under a contract too. I don't have a choice. They decide it all for me."

"Fuck… princess… c'mere."

My hands engulf both of hers as I pull her out of her chair and toward me. She slides into my lap, and I push back her tight curls from her face, holding her watery gaze.

"Listen to me," I say. "We're going to figure something out. I'm going to find out who's after you and eliminate the asshole. Then we're going to get you your freedom."

"Goliath…" she murmurs softly before she kisses my lips.

A gesture I eagerly return.

We part seconds after with my thumbs sweeping the curves of her cheeks. "Enough time spent on those assholes, princess. If you're up for spending the day with me, then let's do it. I'll show you a good time around London."

"But I'll be recognized."

That's true. Even yesterday when we were briefly on the street, people noticed her within seconds. Part of the curse of being a worldwide superstar.

Kiana snaps her fingers. "I might have one of Amari's wigs in my luggage. She has so many for her clients. Pretty sure the one I have packed has bangs."

"Pair that with some shades, and it might be good enough."

Kiana beams, then springs out of my lap to check her luggage. "You were right. We'll never know 'til we try."

Hours later, we're on the streets of London, hand-in-hand, as I do as promised. I show Kiana a good, low-key time. She's in her sister's wavy wig, the bangs covering her brow, and we're both in big shades.

The drizzle's stopped for the time being, in typical British fashion.

We ride a double decker bus for the novelty of it. Kiana gets a kick out of the ride, insisting we sit up top as she pulls out her phone and snaps photos. She's practically bouncing in her seat as we pull up outside Buckingham Palace and she points out the royal guards posted by the gates.

We get off the bus just so she can have a closer look.

"Go ahead, princess," I say, motioning at her. "Go stand near them. I'll take your picture."

Kiana's smile is bright and beautiful as she throws up a peace sign and I snap her photo. Even with her disguise, she shines through as gorgeous as ever.

It's the kind of picture of a woman that would make a man save it as the wallpaper on his phone. I'm tempted as she bounces over for a look at my screen.

I just might anyway.

We move on from Buckingham Palace to other tourist spots like Westminster Abbey and eventually a boat ride on the Thames River. Kiana snuggles up to me as we sail across the water and it starts drizzling again.

We grab lunch at a local pub off a side street near Piccadilly Circus. Kiana removes her sunglasses with a paranoid glance around, but I use my body to block her as much as possible at the small table we're seated at.

"Don't worry, princess. The first sign somebody recognizes you, I'll get you out of here."

"Today's already been amazing. The best day off I've ever had."

Pride beats through me, knowing I've shown her such a good time.

At the same time, I can't help being pissed the fuck off at Tommy, her label, and everybody else in her life that's allowed her to be worked so damn hard, she's rarely had time off. She's barely had any time to enjoy herself.

"You've been to London before…"

She shrugs and picks at the leftover chips on her plate. "I have. Many times. But I've never really had the time to explore the city like today. I've always been preparing for a performance or an event."

"They should be ashamed of themselves."

"What about you, Tyson?" she asks. "You've done so much traveling throughout your career, right?"

I spend a couple minutes telling her about some of my past clients, who I've followed all around the world.

"But you still haven't tried all these delicacies!" she laughs. "What a waste!"

I chuckle along. "I told you. Meat and potatoes are all I need."

She gasps, her eyes rounding. "We have to have Indian for dinner!"

What princess wants, princess gets.

We move on from our lunch at the discreet pub to explore more of London. Late into the afternoon, we're riding the double decker bus that Kiana's come to enjoy so much, stopping by various locations like Trafalgar Square and the Tower of London.

We snag a pod on the London Eye and view the world-famous city from four hundred feet in the air. Day fades to dusk as Kiana rests her head on my shoulder and sighs contently. I already know what she's thinking, because I'm thinking the same—why does today have to end?

Why do we have to go back to pretending there's nothing between us?

"It's beautiful," she whispers.

I tip her chin up so I can kiss her lips and mutter, "So are you, princess."

Feet back on the ground, we find an Indian restaurant like she's insisted. Over the next hour and a half, we dine on naan, samosas, butter chicken, and vindaloo that practically makes steam come out of my ears.

Kiana breaks out in bright giggles as she hurries to pour me water from the pitcher on the table.

"Goliath, that's on a heat level of two. Really?"

I cough, draining the glass. "I told you I have the taste buds of a White guy. What more do you want from me?"

She giggles some more. "You are cute with your ears red."

"And tears coming out of my eyes?" I choke.

"I'll kiss it better."

"Believe me, princess, you're going to make up for it later."

I hold her to that vow.

No less than an hour later, when we finally do return to her hotel suite, I've got her twisted up in a pretzel. She's half upside down as I tilt her lower half up toward me and my mouth waters at how close her pussy is.

She's glistening for me. Just how I like to see a pussy as pretty as hers.

I swipe my tongue and taste her juices.

It's only the start of pleasure that comes in waves over the next hour. I eat her out like she's my dessert for the night, making her squirt all over again, holding her curvy little body as she trembles.

Then I'm whipping out my cock and slipping inside the tight silk that's ruling my mind. Her pussy erases any other thoughts from my head. I'm sheathed in the definition of pleasure as I sink in and husk out a deep, throaty sound.

Kiana might as well be a playful kitten the way she mewls and moves with me.

I have no fucking clue what her asshole ex was complaining about. It just goes to show he was wrong for her.

With me, she's wild and passionate in bed. She's kissing me and groping me like she can't get enough of the moment. Her pussy ripples around my cock and makes me even more feral than I already am.

When we switch positions and I'm taking her from behind, she throws it back as good as she receives. I groan and smack the palm of my hand into her ass. The bed shakes around us, convincing me we could break it if we go any harder.

Panting and dripping sweat, we do.

We squeeze every ounce of pleasure out of each other 'til we've got nothing left.

Kiana orgasms with a choked cry. I spread her ass cheeks to watch my cock disappearing deep inside her swollen little pussy and then do the same—my orgasm blows through me so strongly, I'm reeling for a few seconds.

I collapse on top of her, forgetting the basics like what time it is and year we're in.

…and that I'm well over two hundred pounds and can squash her like a bug.

"Fuck," I pant, rolling over. "Sorry, princess. But… fuck… you make me lose control."

She curls into me with a smirk. "I came twice. Pretty sure I could say the same thing about you."

"Only twice? We've got to get those numbers up."

We laugh, snuggling close in the sweat-soaked sheets.

It's the second night in a row we've made a mess of each other. The second night in a row we're calling the front desk to bring up fresh linens.

We shower together and share in more passion, unable to keep our hands to ourselves.

The night ends with us drowsy in bed. Yet another movie plays—this time the chick flick How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days —and though we're watching it, we're also talking.

Kiana tells me about her ideas for music she'd love to record and release if her label wasn't so restrictive. I tell her more about my past and what made me join the military in the first place so many years ago.

Eventually, we drift off to sleep.

I'm even more at peace than last night. I don't open my eyes until it's well past eight in the morning.

Kiana kisses my jaw as her version of good morning. "I wish we could have another day. But there's no way."

"We can still enjoy the morning. You don't have anything scheduled until later, right?"

"That's true… I think one in the afternoon?"

"Plenty of time to enjoy ourselves."

She smiles. "We can make our own mimosas. We have the orange juice and champagne leftover from yesterday. Oh, wait. We don't have a bottle opener."

"I'll call the front desk."

I sit up and grab the phone on the nightstand. The clerk at the front desk informs me they can give me a bottle opener if I head down. Otherwise, it'll be another twenty or thirty minutes since they have so many special requests from other guests.

"I'll run down and grab it, alright?" I lean over to kiss her cheek. I get up and grab my jeans from where they were tossed over a chair. "You stay put, princess."

She nods and lays back among the pillows, watching me go.

I head toward the elevator before I stop and look both ways down the hotel hallway. Nobody else is around. The premises is secure and has around-the-clock security.

"You're being paranoid," I mutter under my breath. The elevator dings as it arrives and the doors glide open. "You'll only be gone two, three minutes tops. Nothing's going to happen…"