7. Cash
7
CASH
M onroe Blue has the body of a goddess. She’s the most irresistible woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, ever even dared to imagine. My attraction to her was already at a dangerous level for me to be able to do my job effectively, but now that I’ve seen her completely naked, I can’t get her glorious, bouncing tits out of my mind. The tiny dips and curves of her waistline to her shapely hips, framing her delicious-looking pussy, are going to torture me for the rest of my time on this earth.
And her thighs … her thighs would feel fucking delectable tightening around my face.
It took less than three seconds for me to stamp the image of her body into my memory, permanently.
She’s just a woman, just a gorgeous female client you’re being paid a shit ton of money to protect.
This. Is. A. Job. Nothing more.
She also has a boyfriend and is wildly out of your league.
Every straight man in his right mind sees her that way .
I’m not a slave to my desires, and I secretly pride myself on my self-control. Out of all my brothers, I’m the one with the level head. I think before I act. I make decisions based on logic and future repercussions.
For example, making a move on someone like Monroe would never end well for me; therefore, it’ll never happen. I won’t allow it to happen.
“That’s it, honey, so sexy. Let me fix this.”
If the photographer wasn’t clearly batting for the other team, I’d be questioning the intentions of his hands adjusting the lacey hemline of the tiny miniskirt the stylist team put her in. His fingertips graze just below her ass cheeks as he pushes the skirt up to reveal more of her skin. My jaw clenches as I take a tiny step toward them.
I try to slow my increasing heart rate by inhaling two deep breaths. He’s just doing his job.
You’re gonna need to get used to people touching her, unless you want to get into a fistfight every day for the next month.
I could never date a celebrity. Being with a woman so many people feel an entitlement to would destroy my sanity. I’m way too overprotective. Funnily enough, I wasn’t like that at all with Kacie. I saw her making out with her ex in the bar, and it only annoyed me because of the disrespect.
But I know instinctively, if I was with someone like Monroe Blue, seeing the prying fingers reaching for her every chance they got would send me over the edge.
Good thing that’ll never fucking happen.
My phone starts buzzing in my pocket.
I pull it out and swipe the Answer button. “Hey, fucker. ”
The crackle of hoarse laughter comes through on the other line. “What’s up, shit stain? I miss that dirty mouth.”
I smile at the term of endearment from Griffin, my buddy from the Green Berets. He’s now the owner of a high-profile security company. With his expertise and experience, Griff is one of the best. He only hires highly trained ex-military employees. He’s told me countless times that if I ever get sick of the smell of cow shit, I should come work for him.
“Got my text, I see.” I turn to lay eyes on my charge, pausing momentarily as she curves into a pose that pushes her breasts out.
I blink twice, regaining my focus on Griff’s words and turning away so I can think clearly.
“… you’re a bitch for going to work for another company instead of mine, by the way.”
“I’m not working for a company. I’m just here for another few weeks, and the client is paying me directly.”
“Ah, what’s she look like?” He chuckles.
I grit my teeth. “I’m calling to see if you have any guys you can spare in the next two weeks. Her team is … lacking—at best.”
He exhales into the phone, and I realize he’s working out.
“Wish I could, brother. We’re swamped right now. Currently guarding a whole family with a teenage brat who keeps trying to slip away. Death threats coming in daily because the dad pissed off a few Russian politicians.”
I lean my shoulder against the wall, glancing toward Monroe again before trailing my eyes out through the window to the view of the canyon .
“I was hoping you’d have availability, but I get it; it’s short notice.”
“If I get any calls from guys needing a gig, I can send them your way.”
“Appreciate it, man. Let’s make time to grab a beer.”
“Keep me posted on your location. Maybe our paths will cross. I really mean it. I miss your ugly mug.”
“Will do, Griff.” I smirk before hitting the End button.
Now, I have to decide if I’m going to leave her exposed with a shitty security team or stay on the job and risk becoming just as obsessed with her as the rest of the world while fending them off every night.
Both options suck.
Monroe’s face wears a flawless, white-teethed smile as she strolls from her black SUV to the hotel in Seoul as hundreds of people press against the temporary metal fence that’s been put up to keep them back. They scream her name with an array of thick accents, shouting in English and a variety of different languages.
When I was a Green Beret, I traveled all over the world, but this is my first time in Korea. I traded in my cowboy hat for a plain black baseball cap and paired it with black Wranglers and a black henley. I couldn’t give up the boots. My goal is to blend into the background, not to draw attention to myself. I’m used to towering above almost everyone .
I stick close to her as she enters the hotel. She’s wearing shimmery white leggings, a bright pink hoodie, and giant heart-shaped sunglasses. She grins at the crowd, waving excitedly.
I breathe a sigh of relief as we enter through the doors. The staff greets us immediately, leading us to the elevators. Her team of managers, her assistant, and four bodyguards barely fit in the elevator. I refuse to wait for the next one and leave her with them, so I squeeze in next to her.
The doors open right into the penthouse suite. It’s immaculate, the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. There’s a blue velvet sofa, gold chandeliers, thick rugs, and detailed floral art. Thick curtains frame the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the modern city. I’ve never seen so many pillows in my life.
The staff has laid out bottles of champagne and unfamiliar looking delicacies I don’t recognize and can’t name.
The suite has a spacious lounge area, three bathrooms, and two bedrooms. One is for Monroe, and one is for the bodyguard on shift. The rest of the staff is spread out throughout the hotel.
I was informed that some of her suites wouldn’t have a bed for a bodyguard, but she is safe in the hotels, as they increase security specifically for her stay. That’s not going to fly with me, but I’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’m not even sure if I’m staying that long.
“Thank you. We’ll let you know if we need anything,” Ember tells the hotel manager, who bows and leaves us.
Monroe exhales, arms folded as she stares out the window. I want to tell her to back away from it, but I’m hoping we’re too high up for anyone to see her.
“Staff meeting in an hour. Everyone, come grab their room assignments.” One of the managers, Leo, tosses a piece of paper on the table, spreading out key cards alongside it.
I look at the sheet, seeing that I have the first shift in Monroe’s suite. I go into the bedroom, finding that my bag was brought up already. There’s an en suite bathroom with gold mirrors and hand-painted tiles with intricate details.
I ask Brooks to stay in the room while I take a few minutes to shower off the thirteen-hour flight, the hot water working over my shoulder muscles to loosen the tension. Her private jet is luxurious and spacious, but I never sleep well in the air.
After changing into a plain white T-shirt and light-wash Wranglers, I walk out into the main area connecting the rooms. Brooks nods at me before exiting to find his room.
The champagne and spread of food have barely been picked over. My stomach growls as I approach the table. I don’t recognize any of the colorful food.
“Seoul’s food is one of my favorites in the world,” Monroe says from behind me.
I turn to face her. She’s fresh from the shower and changed into gray sweatpants with a pale blue cropped tank top. Her short hair is up in a messy bun, a few loose tendrils around her face. Her skin is clean, her otherworldly beauty nearly overwhelming.
Ever since her full-frontal exhibit, we’ve barely spoken or made eye contact .
I nod, reaching for a bottle of water. I don’t feel right eating her food.
She exhales, approaching the table. She points at a pink, flower shaped piece of food with tiny black orbs on the top. “The rice cakes are my favorite, so I ordered an assortment. Some of them are spicy, some are sweet and nutty. I love how they’re all different shapes and colors.”
She uses chopsticks like a natural, grabbing a pale green piece shaped like a dumpling.
“Did you know that thirty percent of the world’s population uses chopsticks to eat?” she says after she finishes chewing.
I shake my head.
She points at the rice cakes she just took a piece from. “Try it.”
I grab a pair of chopsticks, trying to mimic the way she’s holding it. After several failed attempts, I give up and spear the center of it.
She snorts, shaking her head. “That’s one way to do it.”
I bite into the green rice cake, the sweet, tangy flavor bursting on my tongue. “It’s good,” I’m surprised to say. It has a sticky texture with a soft, chewy center. I try one of the pink ones next, finding it even sweeter at the center with a flavor I can’t name.
She nods, pointing at another one with an orange glaze over the top. “That one’s my favorite. It’s spicy.”
The door opens, and several of her managers, including Fidel, walk through with Ember on their heels. Everyone has changed clothes. I step back from the center of the room, finding a place to lean back against the wall, out of their way. They begin spitting out information about costumes, dancers arriving, the band setup, before deliberating on which of the rice cakes tastes the best. Monroe has taken a seat, lounging on the velvet sofa, only paying attention to the discourse when someone asks her a direct question.
I take the time to inspect the full suite, familiarizing myself with the layout of Monroe’s room, the balcony, and all access points. The elevator only reaches this floor with a key card that inserts into a slot next to the button. The bodyguard on duty, Monroe, and Fidel are the only ones with a copy.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find her another security firm on such short notice. I’m hoping this team can handle what we’re up against. Every day, Monroe receives obsessive fan mail, some of it disturbing. With the recent break-in at her home in LA, along with the text to her direct phone number, I’m fairly certain at least one of her stalkers is capable of finding her, especially with her tour schedule easy to locate with a Google search.
It’s been over five years since I left the military, but I’ve seamlessly slipped back into the soldier’s mindset, where I think only about the safety and security of whoever I’m currently tasked with protecting. Monroe Blue is now my sole focus, my entire world. I’ll do whatever it takes to guard her with my life … at least for the next two weeks.