Chapter 21 Basia
BASIA
Iwake up to banging on my door and a weight on my ass I instantly recognize as Poe.
“Go away,” I slur, rubbing my cheek where drool dried, tugging uncomfortably on my skin. “It’s Saturday,” I add, moaning pathetically.
“I got it, darling,” Caleb says from outside, sounding annoyingly awake.
Memories from last night filter in, and I pop open my eyes.
Oh. My. Gosh.
I bite my lip, thinking of how I didn’t know it was Caleb until after I came.
He can never know.
“She’s sleeping,” he grumbles now, but quickly gets drowned out by three irate women.
“She wasn’t answering my text messages.” That’s Mor.
“Look, we’re just worried about her.” Sweet Emily.
“Why don’t you go to the bar across the street and get some tea. Let us girls have a chat.”
I cringe, slapping my hand against my face.
“Barbara,” I growl quietly. Now he knows that she knows, because I obviously told her.
“How can I say no to that?” Caleb drawls lazily. “Why don’t you ladies get settled in the living room. I’ll make some brunch while Basia showers.”
“Ooh, food. Yes, please.” That was the pregnant lady.
Caleb’s head pops in, and he snorts when he sees my face is on fire.
“We’ll talk about you telling Barbara, of all people, later.” His voice drops an octave. “I’ll also show you all the pictures and videos I took later.”
I clench my thighs together and bite my lip.
“What’s on them?” I breathe, curious despite being embarrassed. Did he say he used a beer bottle last night? Lunatic!
He winks at me, looking proud of himself. “Stuff I plan on jerking off to while you’re busy at work.”
“Oh my god, you’re insane,” I groan, covering my face with both hands.
Caleb laughs, the sound sending butterflies pirouetting in my stomach.
“Go shower,” he says bossily. “You’re covered in baby oil and cum.”
“Oh. My. God,” I repeat, then flip over and burrow my face into the pillow. My traitorous pussy gives an incessant pulse of lust.
I yelp when he walks over and his palm lands on my ass.
“I’ll feed the horde, but hurry up. They scare the shit out of me, and I’m armed.”
I can’t help but laugh at the visual. The big, strong, highly trained bodyguard, scared of two kindergarten teachers and a pregnant woman. Priceless.
“Yuck it up,” he mutters, his footsteps retreating into the hallway.
I extricate myself from my covers, ignoring the very large wet spot, empty beer bottle, my aluminum-free deodorant, and… is that my fucking rolling pin?
I guess fucking rolling pin is right.
“Shut up, whore,” I grumble at myself. I grab fresh clothes and practically sprint into the bathroom, lest one of the girls come looking for me here at the scene of the crime.
∞∞∞
“This is sooo good,” Barbara says with a ravenous groan. Since her mouth is full of eggs Benedict, it comes out more like ptho guth.
I tie my hair back, laughing at her as I approach the spread on my coffee table. How he got everything set up so perfectly this fast is beyond me.
“Any left for me?”
“Basia!” Morgan greets me with a huge smile. I’m so relieved to see there’s no anger or anxiety in her round, mahogany brown eyes.
“Here you go, darling,” Caleb says quietly, appearing at my side with an empty plate.
“Darling?” Emily mouths at Barbara, but everyone hears her.
I sigh. Guess this particular cat is coming out of the bag anyway. “Thank you,” I murmur, then step on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. I’m a tall girl, but Caleb makes me feel small and feminine.
“Aww,” Mor croons, her eyes growing damp. Freaking pregnancy hormones. Now I’m all choked up.
“I’m going to be in the lobby with Teddy,” Caleb says, ignoring the swooning women.
“Okay,” I return shyly, then squeak when he pats my ass in farewell.
“Alright,” Barbara says as soon as the front door closes behind his extremely firm ass. “What’s going on here? Besides the obvious.”
“The obvious too,” Mor says, fanning herself. “What’s that like?”
“So hot,” I say with a gust of air, dropping down on the couch next to Morgan, clutching at my empty plate. “Everything I was afraid to imagine. More.”
“Is he… kinky?” Emily asks haltingly.
“Why?” I ask with a purr. “You wanna know if I can join your Kinks R Us club?”
Barbara snorts, impaling a pickle on the twines of her fork. “I already know the answer to that.”
“Yes,” I say quickly, not wanting Barb to share about the tea drugging business. Not yet, at least. “I asked him to act out a…” I look at the girls, their eyes on me, Barbara’s fork halfway to her open mouth. “A rape fantasy,” I finish.
“Say more,” Mor breathes.
With a sigh, I look at the clock on the TV—noon.
“Fine,” I relent. “But we’re going to need mimosas for this.” I look at Morgan’s barely-there belly. “Or at least I will.”
Caleb finds us three hours later and three sheets to the wind—except for Mor, she’s just drunk on girl time. With a shake of his head, he mutters about calling for backup, then starts preparing to cook dinner.
Killian, Damien, and Ethan join us within the hour, like they were just waiting to be reunited with their women.
It’s kind of sweet, watching these big, burly men go soft for their girls.
Well, Killian doesn’t really get soft—maybe just slightly blunted.
By the time we’ve eaten and drunk a few more bottles of sparkling wine, we stop pretending to be functional.
Morgan drops off first, nodding against Damien’s shoulder, and he says he needs to take her home.
Killian and Emily stay a bit longer, then take off too.
By the time Ethan and Barb leave, my eyes feel heavier than when Caleb spiked my tea.
I don’t even remember him putting me to bed, but I’m there a few hours later, alone.
Groggily, I go in search of my boyfriend.
Who I actually find in the living room is Matilda, the Secret Service agent.
“Matty? What’s going on? Why are you here? Where’s Caleb?”
She looks like she wishes I hadn’t woken up, more emotion on her face than I’m used to seeing from an agent. But that might be because she’s still so new at it.
“Sorry, Miss La—Basia,” she begins, obviously choosing her words carefully. “Mr. Ward got a call and had to leave. He asked me to come up.”
Hair raises on the back of my neck as I get a chilling premonition. I cross my arms, hugging myself.
“Who was the call from?” I ask, wanting to know, but also afraid of the answer.
Matty sighs, then squares her shoulders.
“It was the stalker. He said he has your mother… He has Mrs. Langford.”