CHAPTER SIX

SAVANNAH

––––––––

I toss and turn, unable to sleep, and then flop onto my back, staring into the dark. My mind is racing with a million different thoughts. Which is not surprising given the day I've had.

I received a threat.

STOP FUCKING NICK MARCIANO OR I'LL EXPOSE YOU

The thing is, I'm not.

Who thinks they have evidence to prove otherwise?

I'm rattled, but not worried because Nick and I have never been sexual. But with AI and clips from our movies, things can be put together to make anything look like...well, anything.

The question most on my mind is why would someone want to do this?

This kind of thinking is a road to insanity.

With tens of millions of fans, it could be anyone.

I sent Michelle a message telling her what happened, and she told me not to worry about it. That these things are part of being a star.

I know that after a few years in the game but can't help but feel there's something off with it.

Ryder seemed to agree.

I try to focus on my good news. HUGE news. I'm nominated for a Golden Globe for best actress. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever believe this could be possible.

All I ever wanted to do was act and make it my paid profession. Now look at my life.

I'm so proud of myself.

Then I recall the call with my father and sadness descends over me as I curl up in a ball.

What is his fucking problem? He should be proud of his daughter.

Some people are threatened by others' achievements in life. Even parents.

Sigh.

Ryder. Like a rock, he took over tonight and told me to have dinner and go to bed.

God, he's so handsome. Like drop dead gorgeous, melt your panties, and please fuck me so hard I can't think handsome.

I tried all day to control my body's reaction, but every time he opened the car door and I had to brush past him, every time he glanced my way—doing his job—and our eyes met, my tummy filled with butterflies.

Despite being rude to him, he was kind when he saw me in tears, and I won't forget that.

You need someone to protect you.

He takes my protection seriously and after receiving that creepy note tonight, it's time I did, too.

Perhaps having someone to protect me is a good start. I'm tired of doing this on my own. Some days I want to collapse on someone's chest and just cry. To not be strong all the time. To not be beautiful and perfect.

And for a moment, when Ryder was talking to me about my dad, I felt myself wanting him to be that person.

Talk about desperate.

He's my bodyguard. It's his job to protect me. I pay him. He was just being nice.

I can lust over him, but thinking he's my friend is just pathetic.

I roll onto my side and slide my hand between my legs. A buzzing sound alerts me to my phone ringing.

I roll over and reach for it.

Ryder.

My chest tightens, wondering if something is wrong, so I swipe and answer. "Hello."

"Hi," his deep voice says, and I clench my thighs together.

God, even his voice is sexy over the phone. I swear I could orgasm if he spoke dirty to me right now. I slide my hand back between my legs and inch my way up to my silk sleep shorts.

I shouldn't.

But I do.

"Savannah," Ryder says as I nudge them aside.

"Yes."

"Just letting you know I've got our team doing forensics on the note."

I close my eyes and press my fingers inside my pussy.

"Okay," I say and even I can hear my voice is different. But god, it feels good.

Naughty.

"You all right?" his timber voice asks.

Jesus.

"Yes." I need to stop this. "I'm in bed." Oh god, I shouldn't have said this.

He goes quiet.

I circle around my clit, imagining that Ryder's in bed with me. His hand slides inside my shorts and helps himself.

Without apology.

A man like him would take without question.

"You should've let it go to voicemail," he rasps.

"Yes." I clear my throat and slide two fingers inside.

A little noise escapes by accident.

Shit.

"Savannah," Ryder says. "Do you feel safe?"

Does he know?

Is he offering to come over and touch me?

Lord, I'm imagining things.

"Yes," I reply. "Yes."

I'm not answering him. I'm lost in this lust of touch and his voice.

"I'll come back," he says roughly.

"No...yes," I reply. God, he can't come back and see me like this. I'd leap on him.

Shit. I feel my orgasm surfacing, my hips lifting off the bed.

"I have to go." I moan, tossing the phone as I hang up.

Then I rip my shorts off and tug my vibrator out of my drawer.

Oh, god.

A part of me wishes I'd said yes to him coming back. What would he do if he found me?

Would he find me with my legs spread, pleasuring myself, and then climb between them, lapping at my juices?

I plunge the toy inside me and rub my clit eagerly. Desperately.

Would he pull out his cock and slam into me, telling me he is here to protect and please me?

Oh god. I need to come.

I need him to fuck me.

Hard.

Powerfully.

With a dominance I know he possesses.

"Fuck," I cry as pleasure explodes inside every cell in my body.

I drop the black toy onto the duvet and pant as I slowly drift off to sleep. Dreaming and fantasizing about my bodyguard.