You were far too accustomed to your own independence, and from the morning of his official start date, he’d already been contacting you about upcoming events on your calendar, questioning their locations, their importance, and even requesting that you factor lunch plans with friends into your schedule.

“I hired you to be my security, not to surveil me.” You confronted him rather bluntly late Thursday afternoon.

Five days of his tyranny had been enough, and maybe the two of you simply weren’t a good fit. You needed someone who allowed you to breathe, not someone constantly pushing you in different directions, all under the guise of ‘your safety’, because that was all he ever threw back at you whenever you questioned his reasoning.

“Same difference.” He shrugged, almost so nonchalantly that it made you want to scream.

He was either too intense or too indifferent, never anything in between, and his lack of facial expressions only made it harder to gauge what was going through his mind.

“How exactly is it in any way the same?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you stood in the middle of the living room, staring him down while he continued his usual sweep of the apartment, ensuring everything was secure. As though there might be some boogeyman hiding in a closet or lurking beneath your bed. It felt ridiculous, but you’d agreed to it when it came with such a hefty price tag. Might as well get your money’s worth.

“To ensure your safety, I have to know where you are and what you’re doing at all times.”

“Sounds more like you have a control issue.”

He scoffed, close enough to be mistaken for a chuckle, before quickly composing himself. “I have excellent self control.”

“I never said self control. I meant you have a thing for control.”

“That’s your observation, is it?”

“It is.” You nodded.

“Interesting…” He dragged the word out, and once satisfied with his lack of findings, turned his attention back to you. “And do you have an issue with that?”

“With what?”

“Me enjoying control?”

“I—” You didn’t know why, but the unexpected question made you stumble over your thoughts. It was as though he was searching for something else, like another test, pushing you to reveal more than you were willing to give.

“Yes? No?” Tilting his head from side to side, he approached you slowly, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes darken as they fixed on you.

Standing your ground, you refused to move, refusing to let yourself be intimidated by him, or by the heat creeping through you beneath his unwavering gaze.

“I just need you to do your job.” Deflection. You weren’t about to let yourself fall into these complicated feelings that seemed to be surfacing.

“And to do that, I need to know where you are. I need to have eyes on you, one way or another, to ensure that you’re safe.”

You wanted to scoff, to call bullshit, but the moment his steps brought him to within barely a foot of you, something unexpected charged the air between you.

The heat finally reached your cheeks, and your throat tightened.

“If you’ll excuse me…” Clearing your throat, you brushed past Noah, heading for the kitchen.

Retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge, you  lingered there for a moment, letting the cool air wash over you as you took a sip, then another.

None of your previous security detail had ever been this invested. In fact, they treated accompanying you like a vacation, often slacking off for one reason or another and leaving you to your own devices. That had occasionally resulted in a few minor incidents, though never anything serious enough to warrant their dismissal, in your father’s eyes, at least.

When Noah had told you he’d make you a priority, he’d meant it, and the way he’d shown up for you throughout the week had proven it.

Aside from riding shotgun in your usual car, he’d taken care of specific tasks for you, brought you coffee orders or lunch without being asked, forwarded any necessary calls and emails, and rearranged meetings whenever necessary.

At times, he was beginning to feel less like security and more like your own personal assistant. In a way, you were grateful for it, because you still hadn’t gotten around to actually hiring someone for that position.

You couldn’t envision anyone being able to keep up with the demands that came with your obligations, but Noah was proving himself more than capable of the challenge without you even needing to ask.

With a deep exhale, you tightened the lid on your water bottle before closing the fridge door. Turning toward the living room, you found Noah still standing there like some kind of android waiting to be dismissed.

“I’m going to shower and order dinner. I won’t be going anywhere else tonight, so you’re free to step down.”

“Thank you, Ms.”

You nodded in his direction before picking up your phone from the kitchen countertop as you passed, heading toward the hallway and down to your bedroom.

Pulling up Uber Eats, you began scrolling through the app, searching for something, anything, to fill the hollow feeling in your stomach. There was no particular craving, except perhaps for one thing that wasn’t food, but you quickly pushed that thought down, grumbling to yourself as you filled your online basket and headed for checkout.

“Well, Dan, I guess I’ll see you in forty five minutes.” You remarked after the confirmation for your order appeared on screen, then began stripping off your clothes, leaving a trail behind you as you headed toward your en suite.

Turning on the shower, you waited a moment for the temperature to adjust before stepping inside, releasing a long sigh as the warm water washed over you.

“Thank God…”

You dipped your head beneath the stream, letting the water run over your face for a moment, the steady rush drowning out the thoughts spiralling through your mind.

The day had felt long, and not only because of Noah and his overbearing approach to your security and safety. There had also been the various meetings with clients, investors, venues, and everyone else involved in the upcoming charity gala you were heading.

Everything fell onto your shoulders, and you were beginning to feel the weight of it all as the date drew closer. Somehow, something always seemed to be going wrong.

Every inch of your body felt knotted, as though you needed a good rubdown, something more than what the hot water could provide you, as you lathered yourself with the nearby pomegranate and hibiscus body wash.

As refreshing as it was, your mind kept returning to Noah’s words. The way he’d surprised you when he’d asked whether you had an issue with him enjoying control.

Control over you? Yes… you wanted to say.

Yet the longer your hands moved absentmindedly over your skin beneath the warm stream of water, the more you wanted to say no. To hand over the reins completely and allow him to take control. You didn’t want to think, to act, to do anything. You wanted to leave yourself in those very capable, tattooed hands. The same hands that had been heroic on numerous occasions. Hands that felt surprisingly soft whenever they briefly brushed against you in passing. It made you wonder how they would feel elsewhere. What it would be like to hear him giving orders, instructing you, guiding you…

You snapped your eyes open and drew in a deep breath. No. You were frustrated, overworked, overtired, and definitely horny, but you were not about to stand in your shower and masturbate to the thought of your bodyguard.

By the time you stepped out, you imagined Noah would have long since gone, leaving you to demolish your Uber Eats order in front of the tv while binging whatever the latest show on Netflix happened to be.

Instead, after exiting your bedroom wrapped in a fluffy towel robe, slippers on your feet, you were greeted by the distinct aroma of food, something that smelt nothing like what you ordered.

“Erm… what are you doing?” You came to a stop a couple of feet from the kitchen, watching Noah finish plating up something he’d consciously decided to cook in your kitchen.

“Making you dinner.”

“That’s nice, but I’ve already ordered in.”

“I know. I gave him a nice tip and told him to take it away.”

“You what?!” You almost couldn’t believe your ears, your eyes widening as they fixed on him.

“Now, come take a bite of this.” He said it so proudly, holding up the plate as though it was something to boast about, ushering you over with the fork in his free hand.

“Why did you do that?” You glanced back toward the door, as though your Uber Eats order might’ve somehow still be waiting for you, bitterness creeping into your tone.

“Because I’ve watched you order in every night this week, and you need some proper food. Actual vegetables.”

“Thanks, Dad.” You huffed, rolling your eyes, and swear you briefly caught his jaw flex.

“Remind me not to do anything nice for you in the future.” He said before taking a bite of his own food.

Your eyes fell to the plate, your stomach twisting and rumbling with hunger. There was only one person you were punishing by continuing to be defiant about it, and it was yourself. Not that you’d thank him anyway.

Approaching, you eyed the plate before looking at the fork he’d filled with another bite. Instead of refusing, you leaned in and accepted his generosity.

The second the food hit your taste buds, you had to refrain from letting out a joyful sound that would have bordered on a moan.

“What is this?” You accepted the fork from him and dug in for another bite.

“Baked ziti.”

“And how did you do that with no ingredients?” you asked, shovelling another mouthful.

“DoorDash.” For the first time, you watched his face break into a grin, as though he were proud of his cunning.

There was no witty retort from you, only another eye roll that was easily silenced by another bite of food, and taking the plate, you made your way toward the couch.

“Aren’t you going to have some?” you called over your shoulder.

“Are you inviting me to dinner?”

Instead of a rebuttal, the corner of your mouth quirked into the faintest smirk. “Yeah.” You shrugged. “I guess I am.”

After plating up his own serving, Noah joined you in the living room mere seconds later, his plate in one hand and a bottle of wine he’d already opened from your fridge in the other. Two glasses were tucked between his long, tattooed fingers, and you couldn’t resist staring at them.

Only when you realised what you were doing did you quickly avert your gaze, hoping he hadn’t caught you.

He poured you each a glass, and you focused your attention on the tv as you reached for the remote and turned it on.

“I hope you’re a fan of trash tv.” It was your only warning. Scrolling through the options, you settled on the latest season of Love Island, hitting play from your Continue Watching section.

“Can’t say I’d complain.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” You teased as you accepted your glass of wine from him, your fingers brushing against his.

The brief contact sent a quiver rippling down your spine, stirring the same heat you’d felt in the shower earlier while thinking about him.

Most evenings were spent by yourself, enjoying the quiet as you ate whatever you’d ordered that night, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt not to be sitting here alone, especially while eating a homemade meal. Even if you would never admit it to him, his company wasn’t the worst to be in.

“So where did you learn to cook like that?”

Finishing off the last of the wine in your glass, you leaned forward and set it down on the nearby coffee table before shifting to draw your legs up beneath you. Leaning back, you settled more comfortably against the cushions.

Noah sat at the other end, facing you, his fingers still curled around the delicate stem of his glass. For a moment, your eyes lingered there, circling back to the way his fingers had felt when they’d briefly brushed yours. You needed to get him out of your system. This was dangerous for multiple reasons.

“What makes you think I didn’t already know how to cook like that?”

“Because you made enough for thousands, not two people.” You teased him, the alcohol coursing through your veins, along with the good food in your stomach, loosening you enough to joke and be a little easier on him than you’d been over the past few days.

“That just means you have leftovers.” Raising his glass, he gestured it toward you before taking a sip, hiding the unmistakable grin that had slipped across his face behind the rim.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be vague now.” You nudged him, leaning forward slightly before settling back, your hand tucking against the side of your head, elbow resting against the back of the couch.

“Tell me,” you coaxed.

For once, he looked relaxed. Though maybe that wasn’t entirely a good thing when he was here to protect you. Then again, you’d dismissed him for the evening, he'd simply chosen to stay.

“I used to serve in the army. That’s where I learned to cook. That also means I learned to cook in bulk.” He let out a gruff sound that was almost a chuckle.

The corners of your mouth lifted, and you bit your lower lip to resist teasing him about it. First a grin, now an almost chuckle. It felt like you were making progress with him.

“And the tattoos?”

“What about them?”

“I thought you weren’t allowed to have them in the army.”

“As long as they’re not offensive. Most of these I ended up getting after I was discharged.” He gestured toward the sleeves of tattoos covering both arms and continuing up his neck.

Nodding, you ran your tongue across your lower lip. You felt more than a buzz from the alcohol now, it had made you almost playful, increasing the urge to tease him.

“So that’s why you’re good at your job?”

“No.” He dismissed the suggestion, leaning forward to set his now empty glass on the coffee table beside yours. It took you a moment to realise that, unlike you, he’d only had the one.

“I’m good at my job because I’m good at my job.”

He settled back, and you nodded once more, humming thoughtfully.

“I bet I could do your job.”

“What?” This time, he didn’t even try to hide his amusement.

You shifted, sitting yourself upright. “Yeah. It’s so easy. I bet I could do it.”

“Okay. Go on, then. Show me.” He gestured toward the open floor in front of you.

Accepting his challenge with a nod, you climbed off the couch, a slight uneasiness in your legs as you stood. After shuffling around the room, you stopped in exactly the spot where Noah usually stood, hands clasped neatly in front of you.

“Shoulders back a little more,” he instructed.

You followed, pushing your chest out.

“There. Now frown a little. You need to look scary.”

You did as instructed, baring your teeth slightly, which caused him to chuckle once again. You were finally thawing out that icy exterior.

“Better. Not bad. Not bad at all.” Getting up from the couch, he walked over to you, stopping just short of your position. “Now, I want you to try and move me.”

“What?”

“Move, retrain, whichever. Just try your best. I’m someone who’s a threat, and you need to neutralise me.”

“Oh, pfft.” You scoffed. “That’s easy.” Waving a hand at him, you readjusted yourself, tightening the belt of your robe before moving toward him.

You pressed your hands against his large, firm chest and attempted to drive him backward, only to be met with a solid wall of absolutely no movement. Huffing, you tried again, this time grunting with the effort, before Noah raised his hands and caught your wrists.

With a swift movement, he turned you around, bringing your back firmly against his chest. He crossed your arms in front of you, holding them securely in place.

“Now, you want to stop them from being able to grab you, so your first move is to restrain their arms or hands in some way. Keep them out of reach. Do you understand?” The warmth of his breath brushed against your ear with every word. His voice had dropped slightly, taking on a tone that somehow managed to sound both authoritative and seductive.

Heat pooled in your stomach once again, spreading outward as you tried to wriggle free, only his hold remained firm.

“Now you can’t get out of this, can you?”

You shook your head, swallowing against the dryness forming in your throat as your heartbeat thudded loudly in your ears. Part of you almost didn’t want him to let you go. You blamed the alcohol. Your head felt foggy enough to cloud your judgement, though it seemed like you both remained there in that position for an eternity before he finally relented, stepping back and putting some distance between you.

“I think that’s my cue to leave, before you start thinking you can wrestle me to the ground.” He joked, but there was already a quip waiting on your tongue to throw back at him.

After a moment to compose yourself, however, you finally spoke. “Thank you for dinner.”

You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had cooked for you, or the last time you’d shared a meal with someone rather than eating alone at home.

“Leftovers are in the fridge, and I’ll be here at nine am sharp tomorrow morning.”

While he seemed to slip back into his usual professionalism, his tone didn’t quite return to its previous flatness. There was still that lighthearted warmth you’d noticed throughout the evening.

“Goodnight, Ms.” Noah nodded in your direction, and you caught the faint trace of a smile as he walked toward the door, ready to slip out.

“Goodnight, Noah.” You called after him, the door clicking shut behind him.

You didn’t know what to expect the following day. Perhaps he’d remain that same warm voiced, relaxed, somewhat funny man from the previous night.

Instead, when morning arrived, you were greeted by the same cool, impersonal Noah you’d had the pleasure of spending your days with. It felt like one step forward and ten steps back with him. There was no such thing as progress.

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“And I’ve never seen this because…?”

“Because, baby,” he says, shuffling closer. He wraps a hand around your ankle, now resting in his lap, and gently tugs you toward him. “I want you to walk before you run.”

Rolling your eyes with a scoff, you lean in to meet him and as his lips barely brush yours, his voice drops to a soft whisper. “And I want you to have one of your own that you can play with whenever you want.”

“Technically, don’t I already?” Teasing, you slip a hand between you, reaching across his lap to palm the thick outline of his cock through his shorts. Even soft, he still feels impressive.

Before he has a chance to make his own remark, you silence him with a kiss, practically pouncing as you press your lips firmly to his. A hand slides to the back of your head, cradling you as he returns the kiss with a slow, sensual rhythm.

“Mm, you’ve got me there. Now why don’t you come and play with your favourite toy?” he murmurs against your lips.

Yours curve into a smirk. “Who said it was my favourite?”

He answers by slipping his free hand beneath you until his arm wraps around your waist, effortlessly manhandling you into his lap. You squeal as he settles you to straddle him, drawing you closer until you’re pressed against his steadily hardening crotch. “Then let me show you why it should be.”

It’s overwhelming, floor to ceiling walls lined with every kind of toy imaginable: vibrators, dildos, wands, fleshlights, not to mention all the extras like bondage equipment, lubes, wipes… the list seems endless.

Hypnotised, you slowly wander along the shelves, taking in each display, studying the pictures on the boxes while Noah follows close behind, one hand resting lightly against the small of your back.

When you stop in front of a display of Womanizer and Rose toys, you reach out and pick one up, pressing the button to switch it on and watching as it instantly springs to life.

Dipping his head, Noah leans in close, his breath ghosting over your ear. “I don’t think you need that one.” Plucking it from your hand, he places it back on the shelf. “You already have your own personal Rose toy at home.”

Turning to look at him, you’re met with his lips parted as he teasingly flicks his tongue back and forth, mimicking the motion of the attachment on the toy you’d just been holding.

Continuing your exploration, you’re greeted by a young sales associate whose warm, bright demeanour almost catches you off guard.

“Need any help? Are you shopping for yourself, or…?”

“Uh…”

“She is,” Noah answers for you, stepping closer as his hand glides from the small of your back around to your waist, settling there in a gentle hold. It’s as grounding as it is claiming, easing the nerves bubbling beneath the surface as you navigate a store like this for the first time.

“It’s her first toy, so I’m encouraging her to get one.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet! Well, a bullet vibrator is always a girl’s old faithful, or a wand, especially for a beginner.” She turns back to the shelves, scanning them for the products she’d just mentioned before looking at you again. “Do you prefer internal or external stimulation?”

“External?”

“Clitoral,” Noah interjects. “She’s very sensitive, aren’t you, baby?”

You want the floor to swallow you whole. Instead, you lean further into his side, as though putting your weight against him might somehow communicate that he should stop talking.

“Oh my God, me too!” the associate laughs. “I personally swear by my wands.”

You offer her a sheepish smile, doing your best to ignore the embarrassment heating your cheeks. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed by sex itself, far from it. It was talking about something so intimate with a complete stranger that had you flustered. Though, admittedly, you were with the most sex positive man you knew, someone who approached intimacy with openness, sincerity, and genuine care, especially when it came to his partner.

“Now, let’s take a look at something from this range.” She guides the two of you further down the aisle, your eyes landing on a selection of bullet vibrators and wands in various shapes and sizes.

Tilting your head, you glance up at Noah as though silently asking for his help, and, like the perfect boyfriend he so often is, he catches on immediately.

“I think she’d prefer something more like this one.” He gestures toward one of the bullet vibrators on display, tightening his arm around you as his hand gives your side a gentle squeeze.

Back at the shop, you’d decided on the recommended bullet vibrator, as Noah already owned a wand and was more than ready to introduce that whenever you wanted to. You wanted to start with something small and rechargeable, and naturally, the second you got home, Noah was setting it up to charge for you.

“In ninety minutes, this’ll be all yours to play with,” he says, approaching you with a grin as he settles his hands on your hips.

“You seem more excited than me,” you tease, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders before your arms drape loosely around his neck.

“It’s my baby’s first toy. How can I not be excited?”

If it weren’t for how encouraging he was, you’d probably feel embarrassed, or at least a little more reluctant, but you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling inside you at getting to share this with him, wondering what new possibilities it might open up for the two of you.

“Now we just have to find something to do for ninety minutes.”

“Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, a cheeky grin spreads across Noah’s face. Scooping you effortlessly off the floor, he tosses you over his shoulder, drawing a squeal from you before giving your ass a playful smack as he carries you out of the bedroom.

If anyone asked, you’d argue you had the perfect boyfriend. While your new toy charged, he spent the waiting time making sure you felt as relaxed, comfortable, and desired as possible. He shifted effortlessly between being his sweet, attentive self and sensual, sharing fruit that somehow ended with the two of you licking whipped cream and the lingering sweetness of fruit juice from each other’s fingers, followed by a slow massage that left you thoroughly relaxed and aroused.

By the time you returned to the bedroom, you were both eager to try out your new purchase.

“That’s it, baby. Just get yourself comfortable on the bed now.”

Normally, you aren’t this shy, yet there’s something about the way Noah is watching you as he gently instructs you that makes warmth bloom across your cheeks. There isn’t a playful comeback this time. Instead, after slipping out of your clothes, you find yourself doing exactly as he asks, crawling onto the bed and settling back against the pillows, the waterproof blanket spread neatly beneath you. It had become an essential purchase after Noah had insisted on proving he could make you squirt. Towels alone hadn’t been enough to save the sheets.

Leaning back with your knees raised and pressed together, he sits at the end of the bed, his body twisting so he can look at you.

“Now, spread your thighs for me…”

God, if he wasn’t in his element when guiding you like this. His voice is soothing, the kind that sends butterflies fluttering through your stomach.

“Like this?” you ask, your tone sultry and seductive as your hands grip the backs of your thighs, slowly spreading them apart. Already, you can feel your arousal building, heat spreading with the way Noah looks at you, as though he’s ready to devour you, like the only place he wants to be is between your thighs. Truthfully, that’s exactly where you want him, too.

“Just like that. Now…” Reaching toward the nightstand, he picks up your new toy from where it had been charging. He wipes it down with one of the toy cleaning wipes you’d bought alongside it before placing it into your hand.

“Wouldn’t it be more fun if you did it?” Tilting your head, you slowly sway your knees together before parting them again, briefly hiding yourself from view before revealing yourself once more.

“It would, but I want you to explore yourself. That’s the point of this, baby. You need to find what makes you feel good.”

“You make me feel good…” Your voice softens as you tilt your head, batting your lashes at him, but Noah refuses to give in to your charms. Instead, he simply offers another gentle encouragement.

“Just try, for me?”

“Hmm…” you hum as though genuinely considering it before lowering the hand holding the bullet between your thighs.

“Just take it slow and explore. See how it feels.”

With a press of the button, the bullet springs to life, its powerful vibration surprising you even on the lowest setting.

Slowly, you begin to drag it over either fold, teasing yourself as you explore the sensations rippling through your body. It’s new, not bad, just unfamiliar, and when you finally dare to press it between your folds, you gasp, your hips jolting forward as the tip of the bullet brushes against your clit.

“Keep going, baby.”

Noah’s eyes remain fixed on you, dropping between your thighs as he follows the path of the toy while you teasingly drag the tip of the bullet back and forth along your slit, barely applying any pressure. Already, your clit begins to ache, desperate for more attention from the unfamiliar vibration, and when you finally dare to press the toy against it, another gasp escapes you, melting into a soft moan as you increase the pressure.

“Just there?”

“Mhm, just here. I like it here…” you breathe, guiding Noah’s attention to your clit with the bullet. Reaching out, he uses his middle and index fingers to gently part your folds, exposing you to him.

“Let’s… oh, you like teasing the hood of your clit, hm?”

Briefly, you glance down between your thighs at him, watching as he shifts onto his stomach, lying in front of you with an unobstructed view of your cunt. Somehow, this man is giving you an anatomy lesson in between teaching you how to pleasure yourself with a toy.

Reaching for your hand, his fingers settle over yours as he gently guides the toy in your grasp “How does it feel here?”

Whining, your hips lift as you chase the vibrating sensation. “O-okay… not as good.”

“And here?” he asks, guiding the bullet back to where you’d had it before.

Biting down on your lower lip, you nod, your head falling back against the pillows.

“Your words, baby. I need to hear you tell me.”

“So good!” you practically gasp, another moan following as you increase the pressure of the bullet against your clit. Your hips desperately rock to meet it, hoping the device can push you over the edge of the orgasm already building inside you.

“That’s it. Now keep going like that… I want you to tell me how it feels. Come on, baby, you can do that for me, can’t you?”

A soft mhm is all you can manage as you nod frantically, your eyes squeezing shut while your hips buck in search of the mounting pleasure.

“It feels…” you gasp.

“Yes?” he presses, eager to hear you. His own cock is hard beneath him, his hips pressed into the bed as he slowly rocks against the mattress. “Let me hear it,” he encourages, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before resting his cheek there, angled so his gaze can flick between your face and your cunt. One hand remains over yours, guiding your movements, while the other strokes soothingly along your thigh.

His touch only heightens your already overwhelmed senses, and whimpers slip past your lips between ragged gasps as you feel the coil tightening low in your stomach.

“It’s so good… oh… I can feel it. I’m so close. So close….”

Another kiss against your thigh sends warmth spreading through you, his every touch drawing you closer to the edge.

“That’s it! I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” you cry, the rising wave crashing over you without warning. Your body stiffens as you thrust your hips forward, pressing the bullet firmly against your clit.

You’ve cum before from your clit, around Noah’s fingers, his cock, against his mouth. You’ve cum in countless ways, both alone and with a partner, yet this feels entirely new, sending shockwaves through your body. One leg jolts with every tremor until the orgasm finally washes over you, and when finally sinking back into the mattress, you murmur a desperate plea for him to take the toy away, your clit already slipping into oversensitive territory.

Noah obliges, switching it off and setting it down on top of a fresh toy cleaning wipe before resting his head against your thigh once more, gazing up at you in complete awe. 

“How was it?” He’s beaming, eager for your verdict, his hand lazily stroking along your thigh while you sink further into the pillows.

“Amazing.” You laugh quietly, turning your head to the side.

“You want to try it again later?”

Biting your lower lip, you peer down at him as though that were even a question.

Moving back between your thighs, Noah leaves a trail of kisses, drawing closer to where he so desperately seeks to be. He drags the tip of his nose along your glistening slit before pressing his mouth to you, his tongue sweeping between your folds in one long, languid stroke to gather your wetness. You lower a hand to the back of his head, your fingers sinking into his hair as you guide him closer, granting him the privilege of the cleanup, one of his favorite tasks.

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“I can meet with you tomorrow to discuss the arrangements.”

“I’m sorry?” The voice was familiar, that cool, impersonal tone easy to identify as Noah’s, but the abruptness of it, speaking as though he were the one in charge and you would simply answer to his beck and call, made it difficult to hide the disdain in your voice. Were it not for the fact that you were desperate to make a point, and that Noah was regarded as one of the best in private security, you’d happily take your business elsewhere.

“There’s no need for you to apologise. Send over your address and I’ll be there in the morning.”

You found yourself floundering for even the sharpest comeback, left momentarily speechless by a man who clearly knew how to act when it came to getting what he wanted.

“What makes you think I haven’t already found someone?” you challenged, hoping to remind him that he wasn’t the one calling the shots here.

“Because you haven’t. Or do you always take calls from numbers you don’t recognise?”

No matter how flat he kept his voice, you caught the faint huff of amusement on the other end of the line.

“It’s my personal phone, and I’ll do with it as I wish.”

“Is that so?”

Was he serious? It took everything in you not to let out even the slightest sound of frustration. Closing your eyes, you drew a slow breath, trying to compose yourself before his voice pulled you back.

“I’ll see you at ten am sharp tomorrow. And, ma’am.”

The formal address almost caught you off guard. Letting out a tentative, “Yes?” you felt heat prickling along the back of your neck.

“It would be best if you didn’t lie to me in the future. If you’re entrusting me with your life, I’ll need to know everything to ensure your safety. Do you understand?”

Whiplash. That was the only way you could describe it. One moment you felt irritated, the next a flush of heat swept over you, only to be replaced by annoyance all over again. Who did this man think he was, speaking to you like that? If he was lucky enough for you to hire him, then it was you he’d be answering to, not the other way around.

“Mr Sebastian, if you prove yourself to be a worthy hire, then—”

“Then we can discuss your demands for this arrangement to work tomorrow.” He cut you off, and any lingering warmth twisted straight back into irritation, only amplified by the sound of the line going dead as he hung up.

Suddenly, the arrogant attitude that had you chasing after him to accept the job had you reconsidering hiring him altogether.

As promised, Noah arrived the next morning at ten am, carrying two coffees.

“I have a coffee maker, you know.” You laughed, accepting one of the cups, the aroma of honey wafting through the slit in the lid. When he’d asked you to text him your coffee order, you hadn’t anticipated that he’d actually buy you one.

“I guessed as much, but I know better than to show up to a lady’s house empty handed.”

It felt like a complete one eighty from the man you’d spoken to on the phone. The charming gentleman standing before you was still reserved. While his tone was certainly lighter, it lacked any true emotion, and his face remained just as difficult to read.

Unlike the first time you’d met him, he wasn’t fresh from the gym. The citrus body spray had been replaced with something richer and bolder, carrying sharp leathery notes. It was unlike the familiar scents of the men who moved within your social circles, the ones who practically bathed themselves in Giorgio Armani or Christian Dior. You much preferred Noah’s. It was subtler than the overpowering fragrances that had always lingered around your former security detail.

He was dressed more appropriately, too. Though he still wore black from head to toe, the workout trousers had been exchanged for tailored slacks, paired with a fitted black t-shirt tucked neatly into them. A black leather belt pulled the entire outfit together, while polished leather brogues completed the look. Casual as he appeared, he radiated professionalism.

“Shall we discuss?” Noah’s voice burst the little bubble you’d drifted into, completely distracted by him, by the sight of him, and by how unexpectedly pleasant he now seemed.

“Oh—yes, of course.” Nodding, you led him into the living room, settling into one of the armchairs before gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch.

Even as he sat, he remained alert, his gaze travelling methodically around the room as though assessing every inch of it before returning to you.. “Is that your only entrance and exit?” He gestured toward the front door.

Your brows furrowed. “Uh… yes.”

He nodded, seemingly making a mental note.

Shifting in your seat, you set your coffee on the nearby side table. “You take this seriously.” A soft laugh followed, but when you looked back at Noah, there wasn’t a trace of amusement in his expression. Honestly, he looked just as unreadable as he had the first time you’d met him.

“And why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, no, that’s not a bad thing. It’s just… you’re already more thorough than my former security team.”

“They worked for your father, did they not?”

“Yes.” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Then their loyalty was to him, not you. Even if you were the charge under their care, you weren’t their priority.”

“So with you…?”

“You’ll be my priority.”

That shouldn’t have had the effect on you that it did. Heat settled low in your stomach, your skin prickling at the thought of someone making you their priority.

“And your other clients?”

“I have a team of officers who can assume my duties whenever necessary.”

“So you’ll drop them for me?”

“If you become my priority, I’ll make the necessary arrangements to ensure they’re looked after.” He met your gaze evenly. “But that’s my concern. Here is what I expect from you.”

“What you expect from me?” Your voice rose, unable to disguise your surprise at the shift in conversation.

“If I’m to keep you safe and do my job, then I have a few rules I’d like you to follow.”

“Oh, of course you do.” It took every ounce of restraint not to roll your eyes.

“I understand you have a fairly full schedule.”

“How do you—”

“I do my research when it comes to potential clients.”

“Well… yeah. I help with one of the charities my family supports, along with a few other projects.”

“Then I’d like you to send me your itinerary for the week ahead, along with any day to day amendments. Unplanned deviations should be kept to a minimum.”

“I can add you to my calendar.”

The only acknowledgement he gave was a small nod before continuing.

“I’ll handle all pre clearances ahead of time. I assume you have a personal driver?”

“Yes. He’s been with me since I was a teenager.”

“Sentimental.” You weren’t entirely sure whether that was meant as a compliment or a criticism. Even the way he said it was impossibly flat. “I’ll be riding with you from now on. Front passenger seat.”

You had no objections.

“It’s imperative that you follow my advice. I know you may think I’m being overly demanding, but—”

“You have my best interests at heart?” You finished the sentence for him, one brow arching.

“You are my client. Whether or not I do a good job is determined by the fact that you remain alive and unharmed.”

“You really do take this seriously.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“An observation.”

“How perceptive of you.”

You could have sworn you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth as he repeated your own words back to you, as though suppressing the urge to smirk.

“Any other requests?” you teased. “Your own room for sleepovers?” It was clearly a joke. Noah, however, didn’t react. Not even a flicker crossed his face.

“Staying overnight shouldn’t be necessary, provided I find nothing concerning during my final sweep of your apartment before I leave each evening. Should an incident occur that requires my presence overnight, the couch will suffice.”

Your eyes flicked between Noah and the couch he perched upon, sitting near the edge as though ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. It was difficult to imagine someone of his height and build finding much comfort on an oversized two seater, but you weren’t about to argue with him.

“If you say so.” You brushed the thought aside, glancing down into your lap before looking back up at him. “I suppose all that’s left is your fee.”

“Thirty thousand dollars a month.”

Your jaw nearly dropped.

“That covers daily expenses, specialised services, armed protection, travel, and accommodation when and where necessary.”

“And your lavish lifestyle.”

“Oh, you’ll come to find there’s nothing lavish about my lifestyle.”

Somehow, you believed him. Even the watch on his wrist caught your attention. The leather strap looked worn, and you were fairly certain the time hadn’t changed once during the entire meeting. Looking closer, you thought you spotted a faint crack spreading from the edge of the watch face.

“Am I right in assuming I’ll be billing your father?”

“No.”

The answer came so quickly that the subtle lift of his brows became the first genuine emotion you’d seen cross his face.

“No?”

“No.” This time, your voice was firmer. “You work for me. I’ll be handling your fee. You can bill me.” For the first time in your life, your father’s money wouldn’t influence someone responsible for taking care of you.

“Then I’ll send the invoices directly to you.” Noah nodded without argument or objection, though there was a distinct glimmer of curiosity in his eyes as they lingered on you. It made you squirm in your seat, feeling as though he were quietly trying to assess and understand you.

“Did you have any questions for me?”

“Just one.” He stood. “Did your apartment come with a storage unit in the garage?”

“Yes…?”

“Can I see it?”

Suddenly, you found yourself with far more questions as you watched Noah pace around the hundred square foot concrete storage unit.

“Do you need to be alone for a minute?” you asked, watching him lower himself to the floor, pressing an ear against the concrete.

A moment later, his gaze lifted to the ceiling before he sprang back to his feet, as though assessing whether the floor to ceiling height would be sufficient.

“No need. Though I do request that you allow me to make use of this space while I’m under your employment.”

Without giving it a second thought, you answered. “Go ahead. It’s all yours to use. Just don’t go upsetting any of my neighbours.” You could easily imagine his chilling demeanour causing some sort of issue. Not that you ever used the space yourself. Personally, you found this corner of the garage daunting. It was dark and dreary, tucked away from any natural light, with only the fluorescent fixtures overhead providing a dull, artificial glow.

“What are you going to do with it?” Curiosity gnawed at you as Noah continued to inspect the room, his gaze sweeping over the walls as though mentally filling the empty space.

“I enjoy working out in my downtime while with a client.” His attention shifted back to you. “I box.”

You nodded slowly, as though that somehow answered the question you hadn’t yet asked. “That explains the boxing gym.”

“That was a gift from an old family friend,” he explained, walking back toward you. “It doubles as an office rather well.” He gave a lazy shrug before looking around the room once more, nodding to himself. “But this will work perfectly. I can begin tomorrow.”

“Not today?” Your sardonic tone had slipped away, making the question sound far more eager than you’d intended.

“Well…” The corner of his mouth twitched. “If you’re that desperate.”

“I’m not,” you interjected quickly, wanting nothing more than to wipe away the metaphorical smirk you could already picture on his face.

“I’ll email the contract over later today. Once you’ve signed it, we can start fresh tomorrow.”

“And I’ll add you to my calendar.” It was your final attempt at getting the last word in, a small, snide jab.

All Noah did was nod, unexpectedly agreeable, the faintest trace of a smile lingering at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” A beat passed. “Bright and early.”

“So, how did the meeting go?” The voice of your bestfriend, Brenda, chimed through the phone.

“Ugh… well, he agreed to take the job and starts tomorrow, so…” Balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder, you opened the fridge and reached inside, pulling out everything you needed to make yourself a sandwich.

Brenda had been the one listening to all your woes when it came to the security detail your father had insisted upon, and now she got to listen to you continue complaining about the one you’d chosen yourself. Maybe that was all you ever did, complain. Still, she was an angel for listening, never judging you, always finding a way to remind you not to get too caught up in the little things. A reality check was probably the nicest way to describe it.

“Is he hot?”

“What? Brenda!” You let out a startled squeal.

“Oh, come on! I just want to know if my bestfriend is in capable hands.” Rolling your eyes, you waited through the brief pause before she hurriedly added, “Now show me a picture. Come on, show me, show me.”

“Fine, fine.” Laughing, you slipped your phone from between your ear and shoulder and tapped the screen to switch the call to speaker. As Brenda waited impatiently, you searched for Omens Security’s website before finding Noah’s staff portrait and forwarding it to her.

“Oh my… hello, tattooed hunk.” She let out a low whistle, making you roll your eyes once more.

“Maybe I should hire a security guard if they all look that good.”

“Ha-ha. He’s okay.”

“Okay?!” Brenda exclaimed. “Have you seen those tattoos? Those muscles? Oh, yeah… you’re in very good hands.”

Shaking your head, you glanced back down at the photo on your phone, recalling how he’d looked in person earlier that day. Smartly dressed, his hair, though still overgrown, had been styled into something more professional.

“I mean…” Your voice softened, almost embarrassed to admit you’d noticed. “He did smell kind of good.”

“He did?” Brenda gasped dramatically. “How did he smell? Tell me.”

You laughed.

“I have to live vicariously through you, so humour me.”

“Okay… he smelled sort of… rich and leathery, but not overpowering. It was classy. Nothing like what every other guy wears.”

“Dior Sauvage,” Brenda declared in an exaggerated accent before making a theatrical retching noise.

“It was nice. And he looked… really well dressed in all black and…”

“You said his name was Noah Sebastian, right?”

“Yes…” You frowned. “Why?”

“Because Google tells me he has a medal.”

“What?” You almost didn’t believe her.

Looking down at your phone, you opened the link she’d just sent, setting the butter knife aside as your attention shifted entirely to the article.

“He was awarded the Secretary of Defense Medal for Valor,” Brenda read aloud while your eyes skimmed over the article alongside her. “Sebastian and Ruffilo had been off duty at the time… their actions were deemed heroic.”

“Wow…”

You scrolled farther down until you found an old photograph of Noah, noticeably younger, standing beside a man you vaguely recognised: Folio. The caption beneath identified the four men from left to right as Sebastian, Folio, Ruffilo, and Karlsson.

“Sounds like he’s exactly the kind of guy you want protecting you,” Brenda said, breaking the silence that had settled.

You found yourself more impressed by the fact that you’d never heard him mention it. Most people in your social circles had a habit of boasting about their achievements, yet Noah seemed different. Completely self aware of his abilities, certainly, but humble enough that he’d never once mentioned receiving such a prestigious honour.

Just then, your attention was drawn away by an email notification.

From: Noah Sebastian. Subject: Contract Agreement.

You tapped the notification, opening the email to find a brief, impeccably formal message waiting for you.

Good evening, Attached you’ll find a PDF containing our agreed contract terms. Please sign and return it at your earliest convenience. Regards, Noah Sebastian Head of Security, Bad Omens Security Ltd No: ### ### ### Email: [email protected]

As you tapped the attachment to open and began scrolling through the agreement, Brenda’s voice faded into the background. Then one line caught your attention. 

“I’m sorry, Bee. I have to go.”

“What? Did something happen? Is it hot security guy?”

“Oh, it’s something, all right…” The words came through gritted teeth.

Ending the call, you huffed before scrolling to Noah’s contact and pressing Call. It rang a couple of times before his voice came through the receiver, just as flat and devoid of emotion as it had been every other time you’d spoken to him.

“Hello?”

“Are you serious about this?” You didn’t even bother greeting him.

“That depends.” A beat of silence followed. “Am I serious about what?”

Clearing your throat, you held the phone up and read directly from the contract. “‘I must carry a katana on me at all times.’ You cannot be serious. And who even owns a katana?”

“I do.”

“Of course you do.” Letting out a sigh, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I suppose you disagree?” The evenness of his voice only fuelled your irritation, as though he genuinely couldn’t understand why you found the request absurd.

“Why would I need a katana? Why would anyone?”

“You can calm down now.” His tone remained infuriatingly level. “There is no katana, and there will be no katana.”

“Really?” The word came out cautiously, as though you weren’t entirely convinced you should believe him.

“Really. I include that clause simply to see whether clients actually read the contract in its entirety. Most people are far too comfortable skimming over it, or barely reading it at all, before signing something they haven’t actually looked through.”

“Well, I was always taught to read things before signing my life away.”

“Consider me impressed.”

You didn’t know why those three words made the corner of your mouth twitch into a smile, as though he’d somehow bestowed a rare compliment upon you.

“Was that a test, Mr Sebastian?”

“If it was, then you certainly passed.” Even though you couldn’t see him, you could hear the faint smile in his voice.

It should have annoyed you that the man you’d entrusted with your safety was finding little ways to toy with you. Instead, you found it strangely amusing, enticing even. There were more layers to Noah Sebastian than the cool, impenetrable exterior he presented to the world. You could only hope that, in time, you’d be fortunate enough to discover what else lay beneath.

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