Bodyguards: A Twin Menage Romance (Mandarin Connection Book 9) Read online

  “Hey, Jimmy!” I laughed gayly at him, fluttering my eyelashes. They were fake, of course, and I had about a pound and a half of foundation and mascara on my face.

  He gave me the eye, punching Thumper Sullivan on the arm, hard.

  Thumper and his twin brother, Stinger, were the stars of our high school team. (Years later, they went on to become college athletes, winning Heisman trophy’s and other accolades, before mysteriously vanishing.)

  “Hey, Thump! Looka that!” Jimmy said, giving me an evil wink.

  “Hey, Cheryl! How’s your dad?” Thumper asked. He and his brother were always really polite to everyone. Their stepdad was in the Marines, if I remember.

  I sidle up to Jimmy.

  “You going to prom?” I asked. I make sure to bend over, and stretch to pick up my compact, that I conveniently dropped. Jimmy got an eyeful of my ass.

  I can see him thinking dirty thoughts…

  Thumper leaned over and picked up my compact for me, foiling my plan.

  Dummy!

  “Thanks, Thumper,” I mumbled, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice.

  I liked him, but he and his brother had this step-sister, Bea, and I just didn’t think we’d all get along all that well, tell the truth.

  “Pleasure, Cher,” he mumbled back.

  Luckily, Stinger came around the corner, with a couple of other girls in tow.

  “Hey, Thump! Jimmy! Look what I found!” he laughs. He’s the spitting image of his brother, but I can always tell them apart, because Thumper is always serious.

  Stinger looks like he’s always about to pull a prank on someone.

  “Stinger! Hang a second, will ya?” Jimmy says.

  Thumper joins his brother and the girls and they wander off a bit, while Jimmy gets close to me. His brown eyes look at me hungrily, and I gaze back. I want to fuck this boy.

  He’s everything I fantasize about. Muscles, nice hair and he smells nice!

  And, that wonderful smile!

  “Say, Cher, you got a date for the prom?” he asks.

  Falling right into my trap, I smirk to myself.

  “Why? I thought you and Karen were a thing? You aren’t a cheater, are you James Francis Wilson?” I say, curtly.

  Jimmy looks shocked.

  “Cher, you ain’t called me that since we were in sixth grade together! That time I whacked you in the stomach with that baseball!” he says, looking scared.

  I laughed, remembering how worried he was when Daddy found out.

  We’d been playing in the field, just goofing around with a bat and ball and he’d smacked it a good one. He’d always been good at sports, and didn’t really know his own strength.

  The ball knocked the air out of me, when it slid past my pink leather mitt, and I fell down, unconscious.

  He ran off to find someone, but I had already come to by the time he came back with Gramma in tow.

  “You okay?” she asked me.

  “I guess so,” I nodded. “It was an accident,” I confessed, coughing lightly.

  She gave Jimmy a look.

  “You’d better be sure it don’t happen again, James Francis Wilson, or I swear by God that I’ll tan your sneaky hide!” Grams warned.

  He looked fit to be tied.

  “Yes’m! I mean, no ma’am! I’m sorry, Cheryl!” he stammered.

  That night, when Daddy found out, he called Mr. Wilson, and a short while later a car pulled up. Jimmy and his daddy got out, and they went into my Daddy’s den.

  When they came out, everyone was all smiles, but I knew Daddy let them no in no uncertain terms that was the last time that would happen!

  And now, Jimmy was looking at me in a way I liked, a lot.

  “Naw, Karen is going to be out of town for prom. Her aunt is sickly, and her family is driving to Richmond. She’s going to miss a whole week!” he said, not unimpressed.

  Karen was a typical airheaded mean girl. Beautiful to look at, but with a nasty streak a mile wide.

  We’d also had run-ins over the years, since her momma was Principal at our middle school. But we had managed an uneasy truce and stayed out of each other’s way, for the most part.

  Except, I always had a crush on Jimmy, and now, I had an opportunity to even things up a bit.

  “You wanna go together, James?” I teased.

  He looked me up and down, and then, without realizing it, adjusted his pants. They were probably pretty uncomfortable with that thing he had in them. I could see its outline.

  Not too shabby! He looked a bit uncomfortable, but then he got his nerve.

  “Will you go to prom, Cheryl, with me?” he blurted. I swear the boy almost blushed!

  I let him twist for a minute. Then, tossing my hair, I gave him my answer.

  “Sure, Jimmy! Pick me up on time, now!” I said, walking away in a hurry.

  I was almost running because I didn’t want to let him know how excited I was.

  A real date, with the Big Man on Campus, Jimmy Wilson!

  Looking back, it was the first of many mistakes I would make…

  When prom night arrived, Jimmy came to pick me up in his Corvette. His family had money, and I think maybe that’s why Daddy had a bit of a grudge against him.

  He didn’t trust bankers, and Wade Wilson was the biggest banker in four states.

  The times they had to be together in public, like at ball games or fairs, when they were trying to act like pals, Daddy and Mr. Wilson were all smiles. But you could tell it was forced.

  So, when Jimmy came to the door, Daddy took him aside, like before.

  They were only in there for a few minutes, when Jimmy came out, white as a sheet.

  “You have a good time, hear?” Daddy smiled at both of us.

  “Yessir, thank you sir, and ten-thirty on the dot, sir!” Jimmy recited.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Ten-thirty? Heck, by then I hoped Jimmy would be plowing me rough and tumble, making me hear bells and see stars!

  “Daddy!” I said, exasperated.

  “Remember what I said, James,” he warned.

  We left, and Jimmy was a real gentleman, holding open my door, and driving all cautious and the entire night he treated me like a princess. He even kept the other boys from me, making sure they didn’t get too fresh.

  “I enjoy all this nice attention, Jimmy, but maybe we can cut out a bit early? I have something to tell you!” I said to him during a break in the dance.

  He looked uncomfortably at me.

  “Cheryl, uh…” he started.

  I kissed him full on the mouth.

  He kissed me back. It was pretty good for a first kiss.

  Not all rockets and flags, but hey, he’d only really had Karen to kiss, and she looked like she kissed like a fish.

  He grabbed my arms, holding me away.

  He reached some kind of decision, then kissed me hard.

  “Fuck it!” he mumbled as he mashed his face against mine.

  We snuck out as fast as we could, and the next thing I know I’m in a room of his big old house. He’d practically flew that car back there!

  We ran into the house.

  “Parents not home! Let’s go to the romper room!” he said, between hot kisses and grabbing my plump ass.

  I squealed, getting horny and wet, and held his hand as we got to the Romper Room, which was a big play room that his family had made to entertain guests.

  Imagine our surprise when we walked in to see Daddy and my mother sitting there, watching television, eating popcorn and drinking lemonade.

  Jimmy nearly fainted, trying to pull himself together.

  He glanced around.

  “My parents! They told me… but, what are you… why?” he stammered, his eyes wide and full of fear.

  “Cheryl-Ann, let’s go clean up this mess in the kitchen,” Mother suggested, and I followed her.

  I could hear my Daddy as we walked away.

  “Well, at least you got her home by ten-thirty, son!
” he said, chuckling.

  Later, Jimmy told me that Daddy had talked to him like a man, for the first time. He told Jimmy that he was not too disappointed, but that he should be more careful in the future. Of course, Jimmy could date me, if I wanted to and all. He liked Jimmy, and especially how well he played football.

  But Jimmy also told me that if Daddy found out Jimmy wasn’t ‘playing fair,’ as he put it, either on or off the field, then Daddy had a shovel, a shotgun and forty acres up North. He was very nonchalant about it. Jimmy almost asked him what he would tell Mr. Wilson, but Daddy interrupted him.

  “Plenty of room, son. Enough for your relatives, too!” he smiled.

  Jimmy swore me to secrecy, and never told anyone, not even Mr. Wilson about what Daddy had said to him.

  Thinking back, I don’t think Daddy was serious about it.

  Usually.

  Mother had given me the ‘getting to be a big girl / young woman’ talk, before prom. She wasn’t at all surprised by my behavior. My lipstick was all messed up, of course, and my dress was in disarray.

  She sighed.

  “Cheryl, honey, I know this is one of the big nights in a girl’s life,” she began.

  I was near tears, but more from the unreleased sexual tension, and not from letting my parents down. I didn’t feel I had done anything wrong. Hell, it was MY prom!

  We stood in the kitchen, listening as my Daddy read Jimmy the riot act, or so I thought. It was pretty calm, for an ass-reaming, now that I considered it.

  Mother snooped around the kitchen, admiring the various appliances that a lot of money could buy.

  She and Daddy did just fine, mind you, but nothing like the Wilson’s.

  “Why are you here, Mom?” I asked, suddenly.

  “Oh! Janet and Wade asked if we wanted to house sit, since they were taking Amy to a show in New York City. They’ll be gone a couple of days,” she said, off-handedly, as if it were perfectly natural for her and Daddy to be in my potential boyfriend’s house.

  She waved the next question away, peering deep into the freezer.

  “Italian ices! Wow! From Costco, too! Who would have thought!” she said, disapprovingly.

  She stood and stared right at me. She smiled.

  Then, she walked over and gave me a big hug and a kiss on the nose.

  Smiling, she held my hands for a moment, then let them fall.

  “I can’t fault you, dear,” she said. “It’s in your genes, that hot passion, that wanting to feel loved.”

  I didn’t understand what she meant.

  She walked around the kitchen, cocking her head, judging where the men were in their own conversation.

  Nodding, as if she’d come to a decision, she glanced at the bottles of liquor sitting on the shelves, as if in an exclusive pub.

  “I don’t think so,” she said out loud, wrinkling her nose as she smelled a bottle of Scotch.

  Then, she turned to me again.

  “You were a prom baby, after all, you know,” Mother said, quietly. She rummaged around the Wilson’s pantry, and found a bottle of white wine, something pretty expensive.

  “This’ll do!” she smiled.

  “You come by it honestly, Cheryl, so don’t feel shame. You’re a good person, a wonderful daughter and I love you and want you to be happy. Just be careful, you know,” she said, glancing at my stomach.

  “I don’t regret what happened with your father. I love him and you so much! But that choice meant taking a hard look at what was really important to me, and I think you deserve a different – opportunity,” she said, diplomatically.

  She smiled again.

  “Get some wine glasses, would you, dear?” she said, pointing to a cupboard.

  I extracted a couple, their crystal making tinkling noises as they clinked against each other.

  “No, no! Get four!” she insisted. “Take them out there, to the boys!” she laughed.

  Her laughter was always magical, and full of joy. It would be something I missed when she was gone.

  The four of us drank wine and laughed, and watched ‘Friends.’ The Wilson’s had all the games, so we played Wii tennis for a while, then tried the bowling, and then Dance Dance Revolution, and then Mother and Daddy excused themselves and went off to the guest bedroom. Leaving the two of us totally alone.

  We made out, and kissed and groped around, and Jimmy even fingered me a bit. But I kept remembering what Mother had said, about me being a ‘prom baby’ and it just finally got to be too much.

  Jimmy and I sat and watched the Late Show, and finally fell asleep on the couch.

  The next morning, we all had breakfast, and then Jimmy went off to practice, and we went back to our house.

  Jimmy and I dated for a few more months, but it was more platonic than a real relationship. He was a good friend. It was just that my Mother’s words would echo in my head, and when I looked at Jimmy, I saw a weaker version of my parents – a couple who could tolerate each other, not love each other. My parents were very much in love.

  I didn’t love the musclebound lummox, as nice and polite and rich as he was or would be.

  My fantasies of what our children would look like always had his eyes, but my ample booty. It was ridiculous.

  So, we started drifting apart, and a lot of that was my fault. I would find reasons to be upset. Silly reasons, too.

  Like he had practice, and I would sometimes make sure to tell him I wanted to do something that conflicted with it. So, of course we fought about it.

  Finally, I’d heard through the grapevine that Karen had managed to confront Jimmy about the whole prom thing. It seemed as though her aunt wasn’t really sick; it was just she had wanted to see another boy and didn’t want him finding out.

  Jimmy threw our relationship in her face, but she just laughed at him, warning him he’d be back.

  And then, Mother was getting ill.

  One day, at lunch, I noticed that Jimmy and Karen were talking again.

  I felt stupid, and dull.

  My reluctance to do anything ‘sexy’ with him drove him straight into her arms.

  But, by now, I was too worried about Mother to care. She was getting very sick, and Daddy had begun taking her to specialists, to find out what was wrong.

  You could see it in his eyes, though. He knew.

  He was the first to figure it all out.

  A few scant months later, Mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer; she was gone before I graduated high school.

  Daddy took Mother’s death pretty hard.

  She had been his only love, and I had been the thing that made it real for him. It took him quite a while to get back on the horse, so to speak, even though most of the women in our social circles felt he was a real catch.

  Daddy must have played the field, but he was pretty discrete and when he finally brought Lois home, I could tell that he’d made up his mind to get married again.

  It had been four years since Mother had passed.

  Lois was pretty, and vivacious, but she also was not one to tolerate bullshit, if you catch my drift.

  She helped me digest my abortive relationship with Jimmy Wilson, and taught me that it was okay to be sad. Lois was pretty shrewd, I thought.

  But she also could be hard.

  Where my Mother had a way of putting things so that I would have to make my own decisions, and think them over, Lois was sometimes impulsive. And, she didn’t like being questioned too deeply.

  It was pretty funny – she’d be full of good advice, but when you tried to point out to her that she didn’t seem to follow it, she’d cut off the conversation – like flipping a light switch – or change it to another topic.

  She didn’t seem rude, but she knew when she had made her position clear, and that was that.

  Daddy told me he liked that about her. She was decisive, and knew what she wanted.

  I guess that was why he let her make almost all of his decisions after a while.

  He started staying
in the background, and I felt him shrinking away from me. After Mother passed, he grieved, and then I thought he’d processed it. His decision to marry Lois wasn’t sudden, after all. It was a right genteel courtship, actually.

  But he took on the marriage on his own terms, and maybe Lois and he had a different idea of what that meant.

  It seemed to me that they were comfortable, but not truly happy.

  But I was definitely biased.

  No doubt about that at all.

  After she and Daddy married, Lois pushed me to look into becoming an entertainer.

  “You’re pretty, and funny! Let’s see what we can do with that!” she told me one day.

  Daddy was on board, so I felt it would probably be fun to enter some contests, not really thinking about it very seriously.

  Lois began to enter me into beauty pageants, and talent shows.

  I quickly grew out of the beauty pageant circuit, as my body decided to become ‘more developed’ as one Judge kindly put it. I looked like I was in my twenties, even though I was still in high school. It made me stand out, and not in the way that would win pageants. I was what people referred to as ‘big-boned.’ As if my boobs and ass have any bones…

  Talent shows were another thing altogether.

  I could sing, but my voice was in a key that didn’t work with my look, and all the songs I was given to perform were either pop nonsense, that all the other kids would also sing, or some ancient Sinatra tunes. Boring!

  I tried to add baton twirling into the mix, but I was not coordinated enough to do it right, and after bonking myself in the face a few times, I swore it off.

  At first, musical instruments proved too difficult to manage. I could read music just fine, but my fingers were not made to manipulate the controls or strings or keys or even drums! But, I liked the idea of making music, I just couldn’t get the hang of the doggone things!

  I mean, I could ‘play’ them just fine, but the sounds came out crazily distorted, either too loud or too soft. My music teachers just shook their heads, and sighed. It was obvious to them that I’d never be good enough at playing.