Getting Screwged by Penelope Wylde
Isank my hands into my pockets, staring out over a bunch of people in bathing suits in the middle of winter. In Michigan.
Fucking lunatics. Portable heaters maintained the glass atrium warm I’m sure, but the sight of snow-covered everything and bathing suits just didn’t mix in my books.
“Sir, and these?”
A shaky voice pulled my attention away from the site below.
A bellboy, barely over twenty, held out an unused tube of lube and a hot pink unpackaged dildo.
He cleared his throat and shifted in place. “I found it in the, uh, bathroom, sir.”
“I see.” I angled my head around and jerked my chin toward the suitcase on the bed. “Put them in there, close it up and see to it they are all loaded in the back of my SUV within ten minutes.” I handed over my keys and valet ticket. “Make sure to leave it out front in idle, heater on.” That’s how long it would take me to do the next part of my job.
Fucking Colonel Davidson. My old commanding officer is the only person on Earth I’d do this for. Missions were something I left behind when I was discharged from the Corps five years ago. I worked Wall Street now and made more in a month than I did my entire fifteen-year career with the Marines. No regrets, but I moved on.
So did my former commanding officer. Until his daughter skipped out on Christmas and then apparently it was Operation Christmas Retrieval with me stuck in the middle as the gopher.
Normally I wouldn’t mind. I owed the man. The aging Colonel started me out in the stock market after working in the private security sector for a while.
Guns, hand-to-hand combat and training former soldiers to work private security was great, but two years ago I hit burnout and needed a change in a big way. Something other than brute force and bullets.
The Colonel introduced me to a few people and I went solo from there. But because of the Colonel, I held several offshore accounts and a diversified investment portfolio of restaurants, bakeries and boutiques spread out across the country—all making my current life a lot more comfortable than my days in the Corps.
You can see why it would have been tough for me to say no when Davidson told me I was the only man he trusted to go after his runaway daughter and bring her back to him in time for Christmas.
A hefty responsibility for any man, but for me, it weighed exceptionally more given our past.
We dropped out of contact for a long while, but at eight last night I received a call and at five this morning Mystique, a small luxury hideaway a couple of hours outside Christmas, Michigan appeared over the hood of my truck.
So, here I was standing in the middle of a glass atrium on the side of a snow-covered mountain watching a bunch of over-privileged frat boys and self-centered co-eds partying away their parents' money.
I raked my gaze over a scattering of scantily covered bodies lounging in clusters by the multiple heaters. Over half of these girls look like they could use a cold shower, a reality check, and not the nose job they probably have lined up for a Christmas gift from dear old daddy.
I honestly can’t make this shit up.
On top of that, I actually have a job that involved women in bikinis for once in my life and I feel nothing. Not even a twinge of pleasure. Maybe a few years back, sure, but all I want to do right now is get in, get out and get back to work.
These women looked almost molded from plastic with their over-enhanced breasts bouncing behind the tiny scraps of fabric meant to draw attention rather than cover anything. I could pick out nose jobs, tummy tucks, and hair extensions as I walked the rows of poolside lounge chairs.
Tough to imagine one of these plastic women belonged to Davidson.
As the thought hit, I caught sight of a pretty brunette off to the side enjoying a heater all to herself. Like she set herself apart from the group as some princess.
She faced me, sunglasses in place, long legs stretched out in front.
I took my shades off for another once-over, making sure the winter beauty wasn’t a snowy mirage.
My eyes dripped over every bare patch of skin on her body and being honest, she didn’t leave much of anything to the imagination with that scrap of red cloth. Her father would keel over from an instant heart attack if he saw his little girl like this.
There was nothing fake about this girl. From the long waves of her glossy brunette hair that cascaded over her full, natural tits to the gentle curve of her belly to the long, strong legs that looked like they could wrap around a man and hold on tight while he buried himself deep inside her.
Everything screamed one hundred percent real. My heart raced a little faster, pumping fire through my veins until my cock swelled.
I held back and watched, curious as to how she’ll handle the attention her solo show has garnered from a few assholes edging closer to her—arrogant smirks on their faces.
Her pert little nose wrinkled as she listened to the guys circled in front of her. Years of drilled-in training to protect and serve flared to life hot and fast as I watched those assholes all but posing for her, each working to capture her attention.
Not that I blamed them. She looked like a fucking queen next to a group of filthy peasants compared to the other women lounging around her. Of course, all those frat boys would flock to her. My eyes raked over the sweet dips and tender curves again. She held my gaze for far too long. Only years of discipline finally shook me back to reality. She wasn’t my mission.
I still needed to find Evie Davidson. Ignoring my hungry dick, I pulled out my phone and glanced at the grainy picture and blinked.
I hadn’t given the picture more than a cursory glance earlier. I’d taken in the details that would help me identify her but as I stared at it now, I realized the picture had failed to capture the reality of her beauty in the flesh. The woman I’d been lusting after, along with all those other assholes, was none other than Evie Davidson.
But as I watched, it wasn’t just my dick that was standing up and taking notice. A sixth sense that has kept me out of a coffin for longer than I deserved kicked into overdrive when I caught an exchange between five of the guys standing around her.
They broke off from the rest, huddled up and then all nod like they have a plan in place.
My hackles raised.
Their body language slowly shifted as they talked, going from casual to something tenser, more menacing.
I wind my way through the growing crowd, as the older guys sent the other frat assholes scurrying to refill drinks or flirt with one of the plastic girls with a jerk of their chins.
These guys were obviously used to having their orders followed. My guess, they all had rich daddies who bought their way out of trouble on the regular.
My gaze shifted back to Evie. I saw the ice princess's expression change as her gaze followed the guys walking away only to come back and focus on the five guys.
Her expression went from indulgent, maybe a little bored, to something else in a heartbeat.
Her berry red lips parted, as she pushed up her sunglasses to rest atop her head. From here I witnessed the brown of her eyes darken with fear. She knew these guys meant her harm, and for an instant, her gaze frantically chased the guys walking away. Her gaze darted around the atrium, obviously seeking someone who would help her when these shitheads made their move.
And for a brief second she noticed me. Our gazes locked, but she failed to recognize the real threat and it wasn’t a group of ballers thinking they were all hot shit.
A few partygoers sent nervous glances her way, but then immediately turned their backs. Every last one of them continued with their drinking and flirting, oblivious, or pretending to be oblivious, to the action on the other end of the pool.
My ice princess gripped the arms of the chair she sat in so hard, her knuckles turned white.
I picked up my pace.
She gave in to the fear for a brief second, panic sliding through her eyes. But then something happened. Her expression changed, shuttered, hiding her emotions from the guys. She stood up and squared her shoulders, facing down the men.
Pride swelled in my chest as I watched the shift she made from bratty sorority girl to warrior ice queen. She knew she wasn’t going to get help from her friends, but every line of her body told those five douche bags she wasn’t going down without a fight. Fierce protectiveness clawed its way through me.
These assholes might have thought they had the upper hand against someone half their size, but they had no idea the world of trouble they’d bought themselves as they moved toward her. Their daddies wouldn’t be paying their way out of things this time. And it would be my pleasure to teach them that lesson. The hard way.
My woman. I didn’t stop to think of where that thought came from. I just got the first guy in my crosshairs and landed a solid fist against a firm jaw.
Two hundred pounds of college frat boy hit the deck with a thud.
Before he struck the ground, his closest buddy joined him, grabbing at his broken nose.
“What the fuck, man?” he squealed.
“Call your daddy and tell him to book a plastic surgeon for your pretty face ASAP, douche. I’ll leave a note at the front as to why when he shows up to collect your sorry asses.”
I took a stance in front of Evie, blocking their view, my voice dripping with venom. She didn’t need to see the bloody mess lying at my feet.
My jaw clenched and I narrowed my eyes, willing to let them make the next move and knowing I would finish anything they started. Not to anyone’s surprise, the three remaining wannabe bad-asses hauled ass, leaving their buddies to fend for themselves.
“Some friends,” I grunt, giving the one with the bruised jaw a shove with the heel of my shoe.
I straightened my cuffs and smoothed out a few invisible wrinkles.
The rest of the party-goers stared at us, slack-jawed and a little out of sorts. Rich preppy people didn’t like the hands-on part of some jobs.
“Same goes for you,” I throw at Evie, turning on my heel. “Some group of friends you’ve got yourself involved with.”
Dismissive brown eyes leveled on mine.
I had half a mind to call the local authorities and make a nuisance report. But the snowfall grew dense and if I wanted to get us off the side of this mountain, I didn’t have time to play babysitter for everyone. Besides, I’d taken care of things the best way I knew how—direct and to the point.
I gave myself a brief moment to savor the look of satisfaction that crossed my ice princess’s face as she took in the sight of the guys withering at my feet.
“Okay. Time to go.”