Chapter Fifteen

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Callow

If you told me I'd go from no-contact with Sabrina for a whole week to living with her in a matter of hours, I would have laughed at you.

And as much as I wasn't happy that she and Daph were being targeted by fucks who wanted to hurt me and the club, I had to admit that I was kind of glad to have more time with Sabrina.

As well as her not-so-subtly scheming daughter.

The ride back to their apartment was quiet, save for the song humming on the radio. Daphne was in the backseat, her face lit up by her phone screen as she frantically typed to, I assume, Allie about the book shopping trip we had planned.

I was actually excited for it. She'd fucking lit up at the idea. It felt good to be the source of that.

Knowing the kid was distracted, I reached over, grabbing Sabrina's thigh as we drove.

Maybe it was inappropriate to keep touching her and shit when she was relying on me for protection now. But, well, I didn't give a fuck. There was no way I was going to let one touch, one taste, be all there was between us.

Yeah, we'd keep shit PG in front of Daphne, but there would be times when we'd get some alone time. I wasn't opposed to some making out. Or more.

I had a gun in my waistband and my head on a swivel as we made our way out of the car and into the building.

I wasn't sure I took a proper breath until we were in the apartment and I'd checked all the closets to make sure no one was hiding out.

"Do I need to have a talk with Daphne about the gun?" I asked, waving toward where I'd set it on the coffee table in front of me after Daphne went into her room to look up the books Allie had suggested.

"I mean, she isn't a little kid," Sabrina said as she fussed around, gathering pillows and blankets for the couch. "But it wouldn't hurt to put a little fear into her, just in case."

"Hey, that's enough," I said, grabbing her wrist as she tried to start making the couch as I sat on it. "Come here," I demanded, pulling until she dropped down next to me. "It's gonna be alright," I told her.

"The couch is too small," she insisted.

"It's fine."

"Your legs are gonna hang off of it."

"Well, only one," I said, watching as her face went pink at what she felt was a thoughtless slip-up. "It's fine , babe," I pressed. "Believe me, I've slept in much worse places. I even get my own TV," I said, waving at where she had put on some sort of baking competition show.

"You should take the bed."

"I know that's not an invitation," I said, watching as her eyes went heated just at the mention of the two of us in the bed together. "But a man can dream."

"Daphne said she's totally fine with you sharing my bed," she said, looking horrified.

"Fuck. Now I can't," I said, wincing.

"I know, right? This whole, ah, dating thing with a teen is… weird."

"It's kind of sweet how she wants to see you with someone," I said.

"I guess."

"And, hey, her preoccupation with your dating life seems to have mellowed her out a bit. So that's a plus."

"That's true. I'm encouraging the hell out of this new book obsession of hers. Fictional adventures won't keep me awake at night."

"No, but they might give her a taste for those dangerous sorts of guys," I said as I slid an arm around her.

"Don't ruin this for me," she demanded, resting her head on my chest.

"Right. She's going to become a complete shut-in bookworm who never wants to date real-life guys ever."

"That's better," she agreed, letting out a twinkling little laugh as her hand landed on my stomach.

I had to have a little talk with my dick about not getting hard at inappropriate times. But my mind wasn't helping, flashing with memories of her grinding into me, riding me until she came, of her spread wide for me, of her taste on my tongue, of her with my cock buried deep in her mouth.

Eventually, Daphne reemerged, making us break apart like guilty teenagers. We ordered dinner. We talked and watched a movie until Daphne couldn't stop yawning and took herself to bed.

"You should get some sleep too," I said, coming up behind Sabrina as she stood at the sink, putting a clean cup into the drainboard.

She didn't even try to pretend she didn't want to lean into me, turning her face in toward my neck as my hands caged her in.

"You should have let me order the damn air mattress," she said, still not letting the couch thing go.

"You're way too fucking tense over something that doesn't fucking matter," I told her as my hand slid across her belly.

Maybe I would have let it drop right there if she hadn't let out a little whimpering sound, her mind going in the same direction as mine.

I listened for a second, and Daphne's TV was playing loud—after she'd awkwardly informed us that she would be listening to it and that she slept like the dead before she went to her room.

Figuring we had a few private moments, I went ahead and slipped my hand into her jeans and panties, finding her already fucking wet for me.

"Let's loosen you up a bit before bed," I said as my fingers slipped inside of her eager pussy, her walls clenching around them, holding tightly as I started to fuck her.

She reached down, pressing my palm flat against her cleft, making my thumb rub against her clit as my fingers fucked her, driving her up faster.

She was riding my hand, her lips pressed tightly together to keep from crying out as she got closer and closer.

Then, with a whole-body shudder, she came, her pussy clenching my fingers over and over as she sucked frantic breaths in through her nose.

"There," I said as she leaned fully against me afterward, like her own legs couldn't hold her anymore. "That's better," I said, getting a little giggle out of her. "Now, I think you should sleep pretty soundly tonight."

"Well, between the orgasms and knowing there is a heavily-armed man sleeping just a few feet away, yeah, I think you're right."

"Trust me, no one is getting past me," I assured her. "The wind shifting wakes me up."

"Same," she agreed. "But that's from being a paranoid mom. I should get you another blanket."

"I have three," I reminded her.

"Pillow then."

"Got two of those. I'm all set. Go. Get some rest. We have a long day of work tomorrow."

We hadn't exactly discussed the specifics of that. I did know that she had an overbearing boss who would not be okay with me actually being a body guard following her around. But hotels were busy places. I could easily be a guest hanging around without being overly suspicious.

Actually, I had a plan.

One that I wanted to surprise Sabrina with, so I wasn't sharing yet.

We made our ways to our beds, and I listened as Sabrina moved around before climbing into bed and putting on some sort of sound machine or app before it was all quiet in her room.

I clicked through programs to find something quiet, then slipped out of my prosthetic, and tried to find a halfway comfortable way to rest on the couch.

It was a rough hour or so before I finally did pass out.

It was the sensation of being watched that woke me up suddenly.

Then, sure enough, there was Daph.

She was standing a few feet away with a bowl of cereal in her hand, wearing an oversized New York sweatshirt and a pair of bright pink fluffy pajama pants with little cat faces all over them.

"Does that hurt?" she asked, looking at where my prosthetic was leaning against the coffee table.

"Not usually," I said, sitting up. "Only if I do too much for too long.

"Do you get that phantom leg thing?" she asked as I reached toward the floor where I had my liner and ‘sock' waiting to slip onto my remaining leg.

Daphne watched, interested in the process.

"I used to," I admitted. "Not so much anymore," I added as I reached for the prosthetic and slipped it on, making sure the air slipped out, then getting to my feet.

"Were you blown up?" she asked.

"Daphne!" Sabrina hissed as she came out of her room, still wrapping a robe around herself to fight off the morning chill. "You can't ask that."

"Yeah, she can," I said. "I wasn't, personally, blown up. There was a bomb that went off. The building I was in came down. My leg was crushed for too long. They had no choice but to amputate."

"Did it hurt?"

"Well, I was asleep when they cut it off," I said, getting a laugh out of Daph.

"I meant the crushing."

"Yeah, it hurt like hell. But then shock set in, and I didn't feel much of anything."

"How long were you pinned?"

"Seven and a half hours."

"Jesus," Sabrina said, her hand going to her heart.

"Was no one looking for you?" Daph asked.

"It was… war, kid," I said, shrugging. "A very remote mission. It took a long time for anyone to make their way out to us to begin recovery efforts."

"Did you lose people?" Daph wondered.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Thanks, kid. What are you eating?"

"Cocoa Puffs," she said.

"That's not breakfast," I said, moving into the kitchen. "I'm gonna make something," I told them.

"He cooks?" Daph asked Sabrina. "You cook?" she asked, following me into the kitchen to sit at the counter, eating her cereal as she watched me.

"Some basic shit. Anyone can make eggs and…" I said, looking through their fridge and freezer. "Sausage."

"There's English muffins too," Daph said. "Breakfast sandwiches."

"Sounds like a plan. Do you like cheese on yours?"

"And ketchup," she said, taking her bowl to the sink. "I'm getting the shower first."

"Please leave some hot water for us," Sabrina called after her as she rushed to the bathroom. "She won't. I hope you can tolerate lukewarm showers," she said, making her way to the coffee pot to get it going.

"That's fine by me. How'd you sleep?"

"Well, actually," she admitted, shooting me a saucy smile. "You?"

"Not bad," I said, surprised.

"Even with your leg hanging off the couch?"

"Eh, curled up on my side, fit just fine. You guys like eggs fried well or runny?" I asked, watching Sabrina do a full-body shiver. "What?"

"Fried. All the way. Daphne and I both have a little trauma from the time we went out for breakfast and she got eggs over easy. The eggs must have been funky or something. She was feeling crappy. But we got stuck in traffic. She ended up throwing up all over both of us and the car. I, ah, I respond to throw up by… throwing up myself. It was… incredibly traumatizing for the both of us. We still haven't fully recovered."

"Fried all the way it is," I said. "So, when Daph gets a stomach bug…"

"I get sympathy stomach bug. It's a whole thing. Imagine how her first year went," she said. At my blank look, she sucked in a steadying breath. "Babies… spit up. But spit up is really just, you know, baby throw up. And it happens constantly."

"Geez."

"I had to do a self-hypnosis video I found online to get through it. So what's your thing?"

"My thing?" I asked.

"You know, the thing that really grosses you out. I mean, I could handle diapers all day and night, no problem. But the spit up was my thing. What's your thing?"

"I lived with a shitton of men practically my whole life. My tolerance for gross is pretty top-tier. But I can't fucking stand the taste of nutmeg. I can taste it in any baked good. Always ruins it for me."

"That is good to know since I still owe you cookies."

With that, she made us coffee as I got breakfast together and Daphne spent twenty minutes in the shower, even though she couldn't even wash her hair, then another fifteen putting some makeup on and getting dressed.

She ate like a starving man, plowing through two breakfast sandwiches even after her cereal.

Eventually, Sabrina took her turn in the shower.

And I had a total of ten minutes to take mine and get dressed before we had to head out, leaving a sink full of dishes I felt guilty about.

It had been a long time since I'd been working on anyone's schedule but mine. I was going to have to learn to adjust to the girls' one. And be okay with leaving the place a mess on the way out.

The twins were already at the school when we arrived. But Sabrina and I sat and watched to make sure Daphne got inside with no issues before we headed off to the hotel for her workday.

"Alright. You know the drill," I said as we parked.

"I try to stay around other people at all times. And somewhere that you can see me as much as possible."

With that, we made our way into the building.

Sabrina had a morning staff meeting with the maids, so I went ahead with my plan.

Going to the desk.

And actually getting myself a room.

I waited it out, watching Sabrina go through the process of her job. It was a different Sabrina than the one I knew, than she was to her daughter. It was interesting to see her wearing her professional persona the way she wore her professional clothes. Something she wore with confidence, then easily stripped out of as soon as she was off the clock.

Then, when it looked like her overbearing boss was going to make her work through lunch, I went ahead up to my room, calling down to the desk to ask to speak to the maid who worked on my room's manager.

Then waited just inside the door until Sabrina knocked.

Then whipped open the door and pulled her inside.