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

  As it gets hard, I make noises, and then cram it into my mouth. After a couple minutes of this, he shoots a massive white, ropey cumshot across my eyes, nose and mouth. I smile and lick my lips, then give the audience a peace sign, and an okay sign, as he laughs in the background.

  The words “Nice White Cuntry Singer Gal Loves BBC” are superimposed over my face, as the whole things fades to black.

  I watch it again, the tears close.

  I’ve never even kissed anyone! It’s just not fair!

  We’re on the plane to Anaheim, and then we are supposed to go to Honolulu.

  It’s only been two days since my last concert, and we had a wonderful time visiting with Mr. Cox and his fiancé, Kim Wilder.

  Kim even told us she would do a vlog about the tour!

  But, now, there’s a very real possibility that the tour is over.

  I sob, unable to believe how my world is crashing down.

  Lois is furious, hissing and nearly shouting into her phone. I can hear the voices on the other end making apologies, but Lois is having none of it.

  “I don’t care if they are those, what do you call them, deep fakes? That’s my star singer! Do you have any idea the kind of effect this is going to have on ticket sales? What do you mean, you’re on it? Why the hell did this happen? If, no - when NLS Holdings sees this, we’ll lose the goddamned contract, you idiots!” she seethed.

  Lois listens for a moment more, pinching the top of her nose, and nods lightly.

  “Yes, I know Mr. Ghent. Black Dog Security? Captain David Spalding? Fine. Have his people call me immediately! I won’t wait to act on this, you can rest assured! Hmm? Yes, we are still intending on performing at Anaheim. What? Are you serious! They can’t…never mind. Get Martin Freiberg for me. Yes. Any time,” she says.

  Her voice turns deadly serious.

  “You’d better handle this,” she says, and presses the button to disconnect.

  Lois sits back for a moment, her eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the Gulfstream IV as we fly at forty thousand feet.

  “Would you care for some refreshments, ma’am?” asks the steward.

  For a second, there’s a look in Lois’ eyes; the same one she had that time long ago, with Mr. Bloom. Then, it’s gone.

  “No, thank you,” she says, smiling. But the smile doesn’t extend to her eyes.

  She’s absolutely furious.

  She looks out the window, down towards the ground.

  “Don’t worry, dear. Nothing is going to change. It’s all going according to plan,” she murmurs.

  I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or herself, but I nod.

  “Please make sure your seat belts are fastened, we are beginning our descent into the landing pattern,” comes the Captain’s voice over the speakers.

  The steward walks by, checking on us, and smiles.

  Then, he goes and sits in his seat, and soon enough, we are landing.

  In our limousine, Lois takes several more calls on the way to the hotel.

  When we arrive, the driver pulls into an area behind the building. It is screened off from the usual travelers. I am getting used to this kind of lifestyle, now. All the secrecy and subterfuge, just to be able to move about in a bit of anonymous peace.

  Men in black suits open our doors.

  “Ms. Walker, Mrs. Walker, please come with us,” says a tall, handsome man. He has brilliant blue eyes. Very well put together. Athletic. And, his voice is deep and enthralling. He catches my attention, and then directs me to a doorway.

  Obviously, this must be the leader of the Black Dog security team.

  We are surrounded by men, all wearing the same suits, and earbuds, barely visible.

  They scan the area, and then we all move as a unit.

  We are escorted past the lobby, and are approaching the elevators.

  Suddenly, there’s a thin man running towards us, waving a digital recorder. Before he can get close, two of the team intercept him.

  “Hey, Cheryl! You got anything to say about your sex tape,” he yells at me.

  “Ignore him, please,” the first man instructs.

  “That’s good technique you got! Doesn’t that hurt your throat? Aren’t you worried it’ll break your vocal cords?” the recorder guy shouts.

  A crowd is gathering now.

  “Make a wedge, boys,” the man orders. His voice is firm and strong. The two other men get in front and shove into the crowd.

  “Go! Go!” the tall man orders, shoving the paparazzi aside, hard. He falls flat on his ass.

  “Hey! That’s assault, you asshole!” he shouts.

  The rest of the team just stride past him, never stopping.

  Two men are on either side of Lois and me, with their hands on our elbows.

  We make it to the elevators.

  “Inside, now! And, don’t stop when it opens, it’s Room 850, two down on the left. There’s four more team members there!” our security man says.

  The elevator doors close, and it begins to go up.

  I watch the floor numbers increasing, and then we are at eight.

  Lois is primping, looking at her makeup in her compact. She snaps it shut, as the doors open, and she steps out, worming past the two big men in front.

  The Black Dog team follows her, and one man inserts himself between Lois and our room.

  “Ma’am? If you please?” he says, and gently places a hand to block her path.

  She glares at him, then nods.

  “Of course. Forgive my eagerness,” she says quickly.

  Seeing no one else in the hallway, we make our way to our room.

  The door opens, and I am stunned to see the man we just left down in the lobby!

  “Uh…what? How did you?” I stammer.

  Lois just barges past him into the room, not even blinking.

  “I see you met my twin brother, Brad?” the man smiles. He’s even better looking than his twin, somehow. I can’t even speak.

  He grins, and I feel myself getting lost in his blue eyes. There’s a bit of ruggedness to him, a slight five-o-clock shadow, and he smells wonderful.

  “Oh, Brad. Of course. Twins. And, you are?” I say, feeling stupid.

  He chuckles.

  “I’m Chad. I’m the better-looking one!” he says, and puts a hand behind my back, just at the base, as he steps aside to let me pass. He’s not wrong.

  “Be careful, Ms. Walker!” he warns, with a wink.

  I can feel the warmth of his palm against the flat of my back.

  It spreads out, and I suddenly am squirming against it, and quickly disengage before I embarrass myself.

  “Th-thank you!” I stutter.

  “I heard that, bro!” I hear, as a tiny voice rings out from near Chad’s left ear. I want to nibble on that ear.

  Chad laughs, and then turns serious.

  “Assets have been placed. All nominal. Copy,” he says.

  “Roger that. Situation secure here in lobby. Limo parked and driver debriefed. He’s off for tonight, but if we need a lift, we’ve backup allocated,” Brad replies.

  “Have a good evening, ladies,” Chad smiles, and leaves the room.

  I can feel the space where he was just standing, and then, he’s gone!

  I blink.

  The room is gorgeous, and well-appointed, with flowers and candy and all manner of refreshments, fruit baskets and even robes.

  We walk in, and the security team makes sure our luggage is carefully placed in the closets, which are enormous. Three valets and two concierges ask us what we require, but I’m emotionally wrung out, and Lois is still angry, so we excuse them quickly.

  “If you need us, we will be just outside,” a concierge tells Lois.

  “And, don’t be shy to call for room service. Anything at all,” she confirms, then nods and exits smoothly.

  It’s like there were never anyone else here.

  Lois walks over to the window, surveying the beautiful California sunset, and then
closes the drapes.

  She turns on the huge flat-screen television, and puts the volume at a reasonable level.

  Then, she motions for me to join her at the dining room table.

  “Sit down, please, Cheryl,” she begins.

  I sit down, and find a bottle of Perrier in a bowl of ice.

  As I open it, Lois also sits, and frowns.

  “We have a small problem, as you can tell, dear,” she says.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m taking a chance on you guys,” says Capt. Spaulding.

  He looks at Brad and Chad, his furrowed brow giving him a look of severity.

  His gleaming black scalp sets a sharp contrast against the blue sky behind him.

  A sharp, dark handsome man, he looks as though he would have no trouble at all scoring with the ladies.

  Lois and I watch as he paces the room on his artificial legs.

  “Normally, I’d avoid placing a tactically-trained team on a celebrity. No offense, Miss Walker,” he adds.

  The two men eye each other uneasily.

  “Sir, we don’t understand?” Brad says.

  Their boss grunts.

  “Naturally,” he replies smoothly.

  He sits down and puts his titanium feet on his desk, rearing back in his Aeron chair.

  He looks like half a Terminator.

  I giggle, thinking of him saying “I’ll be back!”

  Then, I fake cough, to cover my embarrassment.

  When Brett Ghent recommended Black Dog to us, Lois did her usual due diligence.

  She had the Stone agency do a work-up on Black Dog, and it was apparent that Captain David Spalding was a man of high regard.

  According to his dossier, David went into the military as a First Lieutenant. He deployed to Iran, then Iraq. He embedded with Delta Force. While there, he asked for and received a transfer to take training, and managed to work his way into a Special Ops Delta Force. He advanced rapidly in the military. The dossier made mention that David was a proficient athlete, top marksman, and a natural leader. A true Alpha dog.

  His life had changed while he was riding in a convoy transporting medical supplies in Afghanistan.

  David’s legs had both been blown off by an improvised explosive device. When it detonated, the car flipped. David had dragged his driver from the car, which then exploded again and burned to the frame. With his crew pinned down enemy fire, David had saved their lives, but the relentless attack from the other fighters took its toll. Two of the men were killed.

  The wounded driver called in an air strike, and a loitering A-10 responded. It swooped down from the sky, putting down a strafing run of 30mm cannon fire, and wiping out the enemy attackers.

  By the time the medics had arrived, only David, the driver, and one other man had survived.

  David would lose his legs.

  He then spent eleven months in recuperation and physical therapy before mustering out. As part of an experimental program, he had been offered to be fitted with a new type of prosthetics. They were pure carbon fiber and titanium extensions that were spring loaded.

  With enough time and practice, they would allow him to walk again.

  His military career over, he was retired with honors. He moved to Washington, D.C., to be close to his parents. Soon, his morning regimen included a two-hour jog around the museums and government buildings near the Capitol.

  He was a familiar sight around the reflecting pool in Washington, D.C. as he ran laps. The President had even come out one morning to talk with him and jogged a bit alongside.

  After the President had gone on to more pressing matters, the Secret Service team leader had spoken to David. The Agent had suggested David speak to a friend of his. This man had been the Director of a business engaged in providing private protective services.

  He confided to David that he had absolutely no problem with David being the head of his own protective service agency. They came to an agreement and then shook on it. David had approached Brett to look over things, respecting his friend’s opinions and insights.

  When Brett had reviewed the documents, he gave David his promise to help his friend out with anything, including a loan, if he needed it. And so, David had entered the world of private executive, protective services.

  He formed a company, Black Dog Protection Services, and had managed to get several lucrative contracts. Many of his clients were A-list celebrities and business leaders. Black Dog grew, and with it, David’s reputation as a shrewd businessman and no-nonsense leader.

  Lois had shared all of this with me a few days earlier, during our ‘talk.’

  She’d made a point of making sure that I understood that I was a big name, now, and that the kind of incident that had initiated this protection was not likely to just stop.

  “You have to more careful, Cheryl, and less approachable. But you can not be too off putting, either, dear,” she informed me.

  I rolled my eyes at her.

  “What am I supposed to do, then?” I asked. “Just pretend that creeps like that don’t exist? Or get in the face of everyone who wants a selfie?” I cried.

  Lois solution had been to hire Black Dog.

  Now, here in the penthouse offices of Black Dog, I watched Captain Spalding as he narrowed his eyes at the ‘boys’ as I secretly called them.

  They sat like a couple of teenagers, caught in some kind of trouble.

  And, I could think up a few troubling scenarios of my own.

  I imagined running my hands through Chad’s hair, while Brad slowly stripped my dress from my body. I felt the fabric slide off my ample thighs, and fall to ground around my feet. Chad would lean in close, his hot breath brushing my cheek, as Brad uncoupled my bra, and worked it off my shoulders.

  Then, the two of them would –

  “Don’t you agree, Miss Walker?” I hear, as if surrounded by cotton.

  I rise up from my fantasy daydream, my eyes blurred with secret lust. My nipples are hard, and to my shock, I find I am wet. I jostle around on my leather seat, my thighs sticking to it, pulling my weak flesh.

  “Umm, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the question?” I stammer, as two sets of brilliantly blue eyes stare at me. I want to die, right there and then.

  I crumple into the seat, rolling my body to hide my tits, and pull my dress down around me. The chair rolls away from the mahogany conference table, slightly, and I panic as I grab for the edge.

  “Oh!” I cry out, and both of the boys jump up and run to stabilize the chair.

  Now, I am staring into Chad’s crotch, mere inches from my flushed face, while Brad grabs both sides of the chair, stopping it.

  “Thank you,” I manage, and whip my head to the side so fast I think I am going to smack my head into Brad’s groin. I stop short, my lips slightly parted.

  But I don’t stop fast enough…

  My face hits Brad hard, and bounces off his hard cock.

  As I ricochet between them, I can’t help but notice that both are sporting enormous erections, my lips brushing each in turn.

  I leap from the chair, and smack into the table, slightly knocking the wind from my lungs.

  “Whoof!” I go.

  The two of them each try to steady me.

  David and Lois watch the entire thing.

  He looks at her, with a grim smile.

  “See what I mean?” he says, spreading his hands.

  Lois gives me a dark look.

  “Yes. Yes, I do, Captain,” she says, her tone judging me and making me feel like a little girl again.

  The boys back away, and quickly sit back down in their own chairs.

  “They certainly are quick, and responsive. I believe they are perfect for the job, Captain,” says Lois.

  David Spalding sighs, and steeples his fingers as he leans over his desk.

  “Look, you two,” he begins, pointedly staring at the boys.

  “This is a delicate operation. Your mission is just to protect Miss Walker from creepers and po
ssibles, but not from paparazzi, okay?”

  “Sir, we understand that, but …” replies Brad. Chad is shifting uncomfortably, trying to adjust his huge boner.

  “This means you cannot bring undue attention to yourselves! What you just did, although chivalrous, took both of you out of protective mode!” he warns.

  He sits back in his chair, his artificial feet firmly planted on the tiled floor.

  “Think. What if this were any other client? Say, Kenny Rodgers?” Spalding asks bluntly.

  “Sir?” Brad replies.

  “Would you be so eager to assist him in such an amateur manner, Mr. Strong?” Spalding asks.

  “Well, sir, our duty is to provide a safe environment, so…” Chad begins.

  “Bullshit, son!” Spalding barks.

  “Pardon my French, ladies,” he apologizes.

  Lois and I each stifle a chuckle.

  “You’re thinking with your dicks, and that is not what I am paying you to do!” he snaps.

  “You both need to focus on the task. Miss Walker, and her stepmother, need a personal cordon set up around them. Does this sound familiar? Maybe Scenario Four? Or even Two?” he intones.

  The two men lower their heads.

  “It’s a One, sir,” Brad mumbles.

  “That’s right, son! The most basic of all, and you both messed it up! I have interns that work here that would do better!” he grumbles.

  Lois sits up, looking at the two men, who are now miserable.

  “David, perhaps you are being too hard on the boys?” she says.

  I have to put my hands up to my mouth, I want to giggle so bad!

  They look at her with dumb gratitude.

  I know what’s coming next.

  Those poor bastards!

  “Thank you for allowing us to remain on your detail, Mrs. Walker,” says Brad.

  We’ve left the Black Dog facility, and are being driven back to our room.

  The two men are completely professional, scanning the road, checking in with the other guards, and making sure that everything is running smoothly.