Broken Hero Page 3

  Natalie furrowed her brow as she looked me up and down from this new position.

  “You sure look like you’re capable of handling yourself,” she said. “And—don’t take this the wrong way—there are worse-looking men I could have on my arm out at social events.”

  “You’re not flirting with me, are you?” I asked. “Because I’ll have to charge extra for that.”

  She allowed herself a smile. “Please,” she said. “If I were flirting with you, you’d know it.”

  There was a challenging tone to her words, and I liked it.

  She put her hands on my shoulders, sizing me up like I was a draft horse.

  “Built like a tank,” she said. “Look like you can take a punch if you have to.”

  Now she was only a few inches away. Natalie was tall, her long legs giving her some height, but I was still much taller than her, looming over her shapely figure.

  She looked up at me and bit down slightly on her lower lip. I couldn’t tell if it was an indecisive gesture or a turned-on one, but either way it was enough to get my cock to twitch to life in my pants.

  “A hell of a specimen,” she said.

  Between her touch and her scent and her gorgeous face, I was intoxicated. I was a man who could take out a platoon of men single-handedly if I needed to, but standing here in front of Natalie, I felt…not in control of myself. Like there was some wild animal inside of me that wanted nothing more than to rut.

  With each pulse of blood my prick got harder and harder. It was only a matter of time before I was fully erect. And the look in Natalie’s eyes went from “appraising” to something else, something sensual, something inviting.

  A spell was falling over both of us as we stood there. One of us had to break it, or what was going to happen next would be something very, very unprofessional. She was close, close enough for a deep, slow kiss…

  “Ahem!” she said, turning her head away quickly and stepping back.

  I cleared my throat and did the same, putting some distance between us. Natalie looked away and tucked her hair behind her ears.

  “Anyway,” she said. “I think you’re the man I’m looking for. But I don’t want to sign a full contract just yet.”

  “Want to take me for a test run?” I asked.

  Another inadvertent double entendre, another slight curling of her lips.

  “Something like that,” she said. “I want to hire you for a night, see how you work. Tomorrow night I have an event like the ones I was telling you about. Some Silicon Valley bigwig is coming to town and throwing a party on the Upper West Side. I was going to cancel, but instead I’m thinking this would be a good chance to see what you can do.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “Looking forward to the opportunity.”

  “Good,” she said. “I’ll send you all the pertinent information.”

  She gave me one more look-over. “Until then, Mr. Shaw.”

  “Until then, Ms. Mayer.” I gave her a nod, gathered my things, and left her office, her scent still fresh in my mind, the desire like nothing else I’d ever known.

  Chapter Four

  GARRETT

  The trip back to my apartment felt like I was walking home drunk. I couldn’t get over how Natalie had made me feel. It was almost frightening. My line of work required total discipline, total control at all times. And being around her made me feel anything but that.

  After years of the most rigorous, elite training in the most powerful military in the history of humankind, all it had taken for me to flinch was a look from an impossibly gorgeous woman in a tight skirt. It made me wonder if this was going to be as easy as I’d been hoping it was.

  But then again, saying no to the job wasn’t exactly an option. There were extenuating circumstances that had to be kept in mind.

  But I put all of that out of my head as I climbed on my Triumph Bonneville and gunned the engine. I peeled out into traffic, hoping that some time on my bike would clear my head, like it usually did.

  I made my way down towards the Williamsburg Bridge, which would take me to Brooklyn, where I lived. The rain had stopped, but the roads were slick and the sky was still an ominous gray. I revved the engine well past the speed limit, hoping to get back to my place before the sky opened up again.

  Twenty minutes later I was back in Williamsburg and pulling my bike into the garage below the tower of steel and glass that I called home. The private elevator took me up to my penthouse. During the ride, more images of Natalie flashed through my mind—her eyes, her body, the sexy little way her mouth curled at my comments. It was enough to make my prick half-stiff alone in the elevator.

  After a short time the elevator let out a chime, and the doors opened to my apartment.

  I wasn’t much for materialism, but I had a soft spot for my apartment. It was an open space, sleek and modern. The large, floor-to-ceiling windows had a killer view of Manhattan over the East River, and the location on the top floor of a very secure building gave me the privacy I needed.

  And there were special considerations for the line of work I was in. The windows were bulletproof, of course, and double-sided—I could see out, but no one could see in. Steel shutters over the windows and balcony could be deployed with the touch of a button.

  There were little cubby spaces here and there known only to me. I was never more than ten feet away from a hidden weapon. Thankfully, I managed to keep a low profile and hadn’t had to make use of these custom features, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

  “Call Stan,” I said to the hidden speakers in my apartment.

  “Calling Stan,” came the cool, female voice of my smart-home system.

  My massive TV over the fireplace came to life as I unzipped my leather jacket and tossed it onto a nearby barstool. After a few rings, the call connected, the face of my second-in-command, Stan Marx, appearing on the screen.

  “There’s the man,” he said, his voice gruff. “We got her?”

  Stan was exactly what most people pictured when they thought of bodyguards, the kind of guy that Natalie likely expected to step through her door for our meeting. He was bald-headed with a face like a pit bull, and not a particularly pretty pit bull. His dark eyes were narrowed and hard, his thin-lipped mouth in a constant, bloodless semi-frown. Below the shoulders-up frame of the video call was a body built like an Abrams tank.

  Stan and I were buddies from back in the SEALs. He was a man made for killing and almost seemed to take a pleasure in it. But he, like me, was a trained professional, and the exact kind of guy you wanted at your side in a firefight.

  “She’s thinking about it,” I said, making myself a small drink of whiskey and water.

  “Thinking about it?” he asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means that she doesn’t want to sign a contract just yet,” I said, making my way over to the couch and plopping down onto it. “She wants to see what I’m like in action.”

  I briefed him on the details of the job, what exactly Natalie was looking for. Stan shook his head.

  “You wouldn’t think a girl in her position would be shopping around,” he said. “Does she have any idea what kind of danger she’s in?”

  “She knows,” I said. “And I’m reasonably sure that she’s not going to be screwing around.”

  “These type-A chicks,” said Stan. “Always gotta have things just so. Pain in the ass if you ask me.”

  “Wow,” I said with a smirk. “Didn’t waste any time making a sexist crack.”

  “Just saying is all,” he said. “I like my women more on the compliant side. And I’m not a fan of taking orders from them.”

  “A client’s a client,” I said. “And you might want to get your head into 2019, bud.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving his hand in front of the screen.

  Stan was a more…traditional guy, to say the least. Me, I didn’t have a problem with strong women. Hell, I preferred them. And Natalie was clearly as strong as they came.

/>   “Anyway,” he said. “What’s the next move? She going to make you run an obstacle course or some shit? See if you can lift a car over your head?”

  “As fun as that sounds, no,” I said, then took a sip of my drink and set it down on a coaster on the glass coffee table in front of me. “She’s got some event tomorrow, some black-tie thing. She wants to see if I can blend into her world.”

  “Goddamn,” said Stan. “Shit like that makes me glad you’re the face of this organization.”

  I took pride in my ability to blend in. Stan, on the other hand, was a wrecking ball no matter what the situation.

  “So,” he went on, “what do you want me and the rest of the guys to do?”

  “I’ll let you know the specifics. I’ll be in touch with Natalie to find out the location of the party and make sure we learn as much as we can about the place. Regardless of the specifics, I’m going to want you and the rest of the crew to be watching from afar—no Die Hard shit if we can help it.”

  “Damn,” he said. “Never any fun with you.”

  “You want that kind of ‘fun,’ you know there are plenty of outfits who’d be happy to plop you in the middle of some war zone,” I said. “We play things smart.”

  “I know, I know,” he said. “Just busting your balls, bud.”

  “Anyway,” I said. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Sounds good,” he said.

  I was about to end the call, but before I did, a thought occurred to me.

  “And have you been in touch with our other client?” I asked. I’d told Natalie we could turn our attention to her, so I needed this one in the clear.

  Stan’s expression turned harder than normal. “I have,” he said. “And everything’s going as planned. You don’t even need to ask about it. Leave it all to me, bud.”

  I took in a slow draw of air through my nose, my eyes drifting down to the drink. “Perfect,” I said. “Let the other guys know the situation.”

  “Will do,” said Stan.

  I tapped the button to end the call on the tablet in front of me, and the TV screen went blank. I sat still on the couch for several long moments, staring out into space, my eyes fixed on some point in my fireplace.

  I shook my head and snapped back into the moment. Without thinking, I reached for my glass of whiskey and tossed it back with a smooth motion, the drink burning on the way down.

  I didn’t normally hit the booze this early in the day, but shit was complicated. I needed something to take the edge off. Glass in hand, I stood up and made my way back to the bar. But before I could prepare myself another drink, I decided to burn off my tension in a more productive way.

  One of the features I insisted upon in my apartment was a full workout facility. It cost me a pretty penny, but I could afford it. After changing into my workout clothes, I headed into my gym and spent the next two hours alternating between running on the treadmill, whaling on the punching bag, and lifting heavy.

  By the time I was done, I felt a hell of a lot better—a good workout had that effect. My muscles were warm and loose, and my skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat that let me know I’d given my body the activity it craved.

  Well, maybe not the exact activity, but something close enough.

  Back in my bedroom I pulled off my shirt and gym shorts and stepped out of my shoes and socks. I stopped in front of the three-panel mirror in my bedroom and gave my body a good look.

  I’d been slacking on my gym routine, but I hadn’t gotten any softer. My abs were a flat plane of muscle, my pecs were solid and square, and my shoulders were wide and rounded. A handful of scars from years of combat duty marred my physique here and there, but there was nothing I could do about that.

  I shook my head as I noted the bulge in my black boxer-briefs. I’d been hoping the workout would put Natalie out of my mind, but I realized that I was going to need a little more than that. I fell back on my bed, slipped my underwear down my legs, and took my prick into my hand.

  It was warm and stiff, and a shiver of pleasure ran up my spine as I held it. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Taking care of business on my own was something I rarely felt the need to do, but that woman had taken up residence in my head and wouldn’t leave.

  I began working my prick. My eyes closed, and I pictured how Natalie had looked when I walked into the office, her full, perfect ass pointed right at me. In my mind I was back at the meeting, back when I was standing in front of her, close enough to smell her scent and notice the glistening of her ruby-red lips.

  “There’s one more portion to the interview,” she said as my mind fully submerged in the fantasy.

  That sexy smile tugged up her lips, that damned smile I couldn’t resist.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked. “And what’s that?”

  “It might be a little unorthodox, but consider it a test of your physicality.”

  She sat back onto the desk, her eyes fixed on mine. “I need you to fuck me.”

  I didn’t need to hear another word.

  I stepped between her legs, spreading them wide and exposing the thin strip of her panties between her luscious thighs. With a quick motion I hiked up her pencil skirt and grabbed onto her lacy red thong, pulling it down her shapely legs.

  “I’ve needed that cock since the moment you walked into the office, Mr. Shaw,” she said.

  “And I’ve been thinking about nothing but that pussy, Ms. Mayer.”

  I quickly undid the buckle and zipper of my dress slacks and pulled my pants and boxer-briefs down enough to expose my stone-stiff cock.

  “Just as impressive as the rest of you,” she said, her eyes locked on my prick. “Now, let’s see what you can do with it.”

  She reached down and wrapped her slender fingers around my throbbing unit, slowly stroking it up and down in time with my real-life motions. I let out a groan, the mental image making me want to shoot my load right then.

  But I decided to take my time. I wasn’t in any sort of rush.

  Back in my mind’s eye I stepped closer to Natalie, her glistening lips waiting for me. I put my head between them and slipped my first inch into her.

  “Oh fuck,” she moaned, closing her eyes and savoring the feeling. “Damn, you feel good.”

  She reached back and undid her hair, her tresses dropping down onto her shoulders as she locked eyes with me. I moved into her more, inch by inch. She grabbed onto my shoulders, digging her nails into them so hard and deep that I could feel them through the fabric of my suit jacket.

  “Just like that,” she said. “Fuck me just like that.”

  Soon I was fully buried in her tight cunt, her soft walls gripping me just how I wanted. I pulled back and drove into her, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips. My hand rested on the small of her back, keeping her in place as I continued to drive into her again and again.

  Natalie took her hands off me just long enough to undo the first few buttons of her blouse and expose her ripe, ample cleavage. I leaned in and covered her tits with my lips, letting her delicious taste linger on my tongue.

  “Don’t stop fucking me,” she said, her voice heavy with passion. “Don’t you dare stop.”

  I continued to pound her hard, the desk creaking underneath us as I did.

  I couldn’t take any more. My orgasm exploded, my cock draining into her wet, warm pussy. And as I did, Natalie came right along with me, her cunt clamping down onto my length and coaxing every last drop of cum out of me.

  When the orgasm faded I opened my eyes, back in my bedroom. My chest rose and fell as the pleasure faded.

  I hoped it would be enough to keep the undeniable attraction at bay.

  But something told me it wouldn’t be nearly enough.

  Chapter Five

  GARRETT

  I couldn’t help but let out an impressed whistle as I stood in front of Natalie’s apartment building. I thought my place was nice, but it looked like a flophouse next to hers. It was one of the newer towers that had been going u
p in Midtown, one of those skinny, shining things that cut like blades into the sky above the city. They were visible from just about any place in the five boroughs, and I’d always wondered what kind of people lived in them.

  I made my way into the spacious, futuristic lobby and let the attractive young woman at the front desk know who I was and that I was there for Natalie Mayer.

  “She’s expecting you,” she said. “Take the third elevator on your right.”

  I thanked her and headed off. Minutes later I was in the elevator giving myself a look in the polished mirrored walls of the space.

  I had to admit it—I looked pretty good in my tux. It was a stylish Tom Ford, hand-tailored for my body. I’d bought it a few months ago and hadn’t had a chance to wear it out, and this occasion seemed like the perfect opportunity.

  The doors opened and revealed a gorgeous apartment with a view that put mine to shame.

  “Come on in,” called Natalie’s voice from somewhere off in the distance.

  I stepped into the apartment and took in the sights. Unlike my place, which was decorated in a minimalist, black-and-white bachelor style, Natalie’s was done up more classically, with stylish antique furniture and a floor covered in large oriental rugs. Modern art hung on the walls, and soft jazz music played from hidden speakers. A fire roared in the marble fireplace.

  I glanced in the direction of the fire, immediately picturing laying Natalie down in front of it, peeling her out of her clothes and giving her a good ravishing. I shook my head, dismissing the thought. Despite taking care of things yesterday, I still found myself fantasizing about her.

  It was a distraction, and one that I didn’t need.

  I focused on the matter at hand.

  “You like the place?”

  I glanced up to see Natalie enter the room, my jaw nearly hitting the damn floor.