Fun fact! I am scared—if not terrified—of talking to strangers. Yet here I am. Standing inside the hotel room of the man that I just met. Actually, no. I have watched some of his series that he plays on, numerous interviews that he part in and even some of the fan made videos that happen to pass by on my newsfeed. Technically, I have known him. So…I guess it doesn’t count.
“What’s with that face?” He emerged from a door. Now that he is no longer smiling I could clearly take notice of his cat eye that he’s well known for. The same eyes that Daow loves about him.
“N-Nothing.” Shit! Why am I even not good with lying? The pounding on my chest even grew stronger. I wonder if he could hear it. Like how he heard my stomach growl on our way to the hotel. God! Why do I keep on messing up?
His lips formed a smirk. “If you think that I brought you here to do something…” he paused for a while. As if searching for the word that he’ll use. “Bad, then you can find your way out. You’re not my hostage or anything.” He said, nonchalant. “I just thought you’re up to another set of drinks. I even ordered some food for us to share.”
“Of course, of course.” I said as I settled on the only table in the middle of the room after I heard the magic word. Food. He put one of the beer bottles in front of me, one on his and the remaining three are between us. “Wow. I haven’t been inside a presidential suite.” My eyes wandered at the vast room that seemed as large as the staff lounge at the Walsh. Instead of a long table filled with coffee pots, plastic cups, different sizes of plates and utensils, the room is surrounded with fancy looking furniture that is hard to explain the whole detail but obviously screaming money.
“I thought your employer was a wealthy man?” His furrowed brow was the only thing that I could see when he took a long gulp on his bottle.
I did mention about the young employer earlier but made sure not to speak his name or any other information for safety measures. “He is.” I said. “But his house is already wide enough to even find another place just to sleep. He sometimes goes to hotels. Also five star ones. And that only happens when there’s occasions or meetings that need his presence. ”
“Reasonable.”
“In fact, I haven’t seen him sleep at another house.” I squeezed my brain for any memories that Sandro didn’t sleep in his room and I couldn’t remember anything. Despite the number of times that he went out to have a blast at a bar or even on someone’s place, it never passes his mind to stay at someone’s place to spend the night. He always calls Nick and me to drive him home at whatever time that he’s fed up with the party.
For hours that I had a conversation with John. There’s one thing that made me realize. He’s not much of a talker. Although he would respond to my queries about his career and life, I could still feel that there's something lacking in it. As if his answers were filtered a lot. It may be the truth but the lack of details made it sound like a lie.
Like when I asked him about his real relationship with his co-star Daow, he would smile as if my question was funny and say, “Daow and I treated each other like phi-nong.” There’s a hint of Thai accent in his tone as he says that they are like brothers to each other.
I have heard him answer this to the interviewer that has the same question as mine. I can’t help it. I have to ask him as someone who knew someone that was a big fan of his. Not me. It’s Nick.
I may have watched his series but that’s because the story was good and Nick is forcing me to watch it with her. But I am not as crazy as Nick that would print out his pictures—from selfies to full body photoshoots and hang it on the wall. That’s insane!
He wasn’t lying when he said that he ordered some food. It seems by some he meant a lot. Each food cart that came in has to be pushed by two hotel staff. My eyes were busy following their hands, putting each plate on the table. Each looks and smells amazing. Making my stomach growl even more when the staff had left.
“Wow.” The only word that came out of my mouth.
“Dig in.” He said. Pointing with his palm up to the food.
Two in the morning, as expected we only reduce one third of the total amount of the food. I wanted to atleast give justice to the other dishes but just one slight move I could feel my stomach was going to burst.
“Such a waste.” I muttered. My finger brushes the sauce of the brisket that slightly overflows on the porcelain plate and puts it in my mouth. The heavenly flavor is still as good as earlier.
John chuckled.
I glared at him, slightly annoyed. “There’s no reason for you to be laughing about this. I am serious. This is such a waste. There’s a lot of people who suffer from hunger and here we are wasting food.”
He didn’t say anything. His attention was on the glass of red wine. Disregarding my whole existence.
I didn’t say a word either. Mainly for the reason that I am full and satisfied…and sleep is slowly taking over my whole body.
“Three cats.” Ashton stated out of nowhere. I looked at him. Baffled. “I used to have three pet cats. That’s what others didn’t know.” His lips pulled into a smile but his eyes were still on the red liquid.
“Used to?” I could feel my brow arched.
“They were murdered.”
I straightened on my seats at the breathtaking revelation that he had made. “Mur…dered? By who? Your neighbors?”
He shook his head. “No. By a hamster.”
“That’s crazy! How is that even possible?!”
He shrugged his shoulders and finished the remaining drink on his glass. “Wine?” John didn’t wait for my response. His hand went straight to the untouched flower like glass and poured until the liquid filled the glass up to its rim.
I chugged half of it as soon as I held it in my hand. “Are we having our last supper?” I joked. Inside of me I am immensely happy that I am having a feast…with a star. What a rare experience. However my happiness faded away when I noticed that he didn’t catch it. “It’s a Christian joke. You know, Jes—aren’t you a Christian?” As far as I could remember, Nick had told me that he is a catholic just like us…or is it Daow?
“Does it matter?”
Maybe it’s the red juice kicking but John seemed to be gloomy when our gaze met. As if he’s telling me something but…I am not a mind reader. All I could sense is he’s speaking with me through his eyes.
ASHTON As I left the J. Son Paradise café in my sleek red Audi, I felt a strange tension in the air between Lennox and me. It all started when I handed him my eight-page list, and now we were on the freeway, heading who-knows-where. Lennox was sitting silently, reading through the list, while I focused on navigating through the traffic. Paparazzi vehicles tried to chase us like old friends, but I skillfully sped past them. Lennox finally looked up from the list and glanced at the cars around us. "I should be the one driving in this relationship," he said casually. I couldn't help but stiffen at the mention of the word "relationship." I quickly added "platonic" in my mind, but the memory of my sixteen-year-old self, infatuated with Lennox, was still lingering. At twenty-two-years-old, I was annoyed that Lennox was occupying my thoughts in such a way. He was never meant to be in my spank bank. "Number twelve," I pointed out from the list, trying to change the subject. He locked eye
LENNOX With my luggage in hand, I took the lead, climbing up two flights of narrow wooden stairs. Ashton, much to his dismay, had to follow behind me. I knew he would prefer to be the one leading, but for his own safety, I had to be in control this time. Actually, every time we were together, I felt it was necessary for me to take the lead. It wasn't just because I was being pompous or arrogantly asserting myself. It was for his own good, to ensure he learned to trust and rely on me. As we ascended the stairs, a thick silence hung between us. Neither of us was accustomed to such uncomfortable tension. You see, I never asked to be Ashton's bodyguard. I didn't apply for the position or submit any applications. It was a role I fell into at his mother's request. I'm open to change. I embrace it. But if I had known that one of my favorite pastimes would be getting on Ashton Johnson's nerves, I might have hesitated to take on this job. Another tense moment passed before Tony warned me a
LENNOX Fear does not grip me, not even the looming threat of losing my job. For three long years, almost every hour of every day, I have dedicated myself to shielding his mother. It's no trivial matter. She is a timid person with an insatiable craving for attention from the opposite sex. Despite her tall, slender figure and delicate features that lend her an everlasting youthfulness, she attracts unwelcome gazes. Those who seek to torment her view her as an easy target. I have endured countless instances of being spat on, taking blows meant for her—hooks to the jaw, uppercuts to the ribs. I even broke someone's cheekbone while defending her and ended up facing a lawsuit. But he was the one crossing boundaries with her. I have confronted gunmen, knife-wielders, and troublemakers brandishing absurd objects like water pistols, bags of glitter, and even sex toys—anything to inflict harm. I have whisked Regina away from fervent crowds that posed a threat to her safety, ensuring every roo
ASHTON With a firm grip on the steering wheel, I make my way towards the grocery store, multitasking by holding my phone in my other hand. Using a notes app, I begin listing the items I need to buy, but frustration quickly wells up within me as the automated voice misinterprets my words. It reads back a garbled version of my list that leaves me annoyed and shooting a glare at my phone. Sitting in the passenger seat, Lennox finds the situation amusing and suggests I brake. Caught off guard, I slam on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a collision with a white sedan. It's only been two days since Lennox became my bodyguard, and I'm already feeling the impact of having someone constantly around. My mind is scattered, my nerves are rattled, and there's a growing tension building up inside me. Specifically, it's sexual tension. It's been 48 hours since I last had sex, and even this morning in the shower, I couldn't help but imagine Lennox while trying to masturbate. It was a futile effort to
ASHTON Six months ago, in the dead of night, Willow Walsh burst into my room in a flurry. Her face was smothered in an avocado mask, and her brunette hair was twisted up in a pink towel. "Tony?" she whispered urgently. I was still awake, so when I heard her breezy voice, I quickly switched on my lamp. Willow's eyes fell upon the girl nestled under my covers. Both of us completely naked. Willow winced. "I'm sorry. It doesn't matter," she said, ready to leave. In a hushed tone, I pleaded, "Wait." I jumped out of bed and hastily put on my boxer briefs. "Willow," I called out as I sprinted towards the door. The girl from the one-night stand drowsily called my name, and I reassured her, "I'll be right back." I purposely left the door slightly ajar, hoping to discourage her from taking any pictures of my bedroom. Willow was waiting for me in the middle of the staircase. Rodney, stationed at the top, was engrossed in a game on his cellphone. He had been guarding my room that night, gra
ASHTON Willow rests her chin on my chest and looks up at me. "Just the two of us. Well, except for the two strapping bodyguards, the bakery staff, and your three siblings who will join us at seven." I had invited my two sisters and brother to join us later. "I appreciate you calling the bakery in advance," I say sincerely, without a hint of sarcasm. When I asked Willow if my younger brother could come along, her immediate response was, ‘I'll reserve the entire bakery for a couple of hours.’ Willow and I don't usually shut down establishments for our own convenience. We can handle the attention from the media and the public. But Willow understood that my brother, Blake, wouldn't feel comfortable with strangers around. Instead of suggesting we leave him behind, she was the first to offer a solution that included him. "Avec plaisir," [With pleasure]she says in a smooth, silky tone. So here we are, fluent in two foreign languages for completely different reasons. I won't delve into th
LENNOX Ashton descended to the first floor. "It's only been two minutes since I last saw you." "Thirty-three," I corrected, watching Willow settle down on the loveseat and unscrew the bottle of sweet almond oil. I had a feeling I knew its purpose. I shifted my attention to Tony. "Security wants more information about the Camp-Away." Realization dawned on him, and he nodded. "You'll have to wait. I promised Willow a massage, and she comes first." "Are you giving or receiving?" I inquired, a mischievous smile playing on my lips. His eyebrows shot up, and he licked his lips, tilting his head slightly as he rubbed his sharp jaw. I smiled, feeling a flutter in my chest, but I pushed the sensation aside. "The massage, wolf scout. Are you giving or receiving it?" "Receiving," he answered more easily. "Willow is trying out massage therapy." She tied her wavy hair into a low ponytail. "If you two need to discuss the Camp-Away, I can wait—" "No," Ashton firmly replied, shaking his head
ASHTON I find myself in a state of utter desperation. With every breath I take, I try to calm the raging emotions coursing through my veins. Is it desire? Frustration? Obsession? I stare defiantly into his eyes, unashamed. However, deep down, I can't deny that I've never wanted to obey an order as much as I do in this very moment. I've always been drawn to alpha males, those who crave dominance as much as I do. Most of the time, I get what I want, but the idea of being with someone equally strong and dominant entices me like nothing else. As I stand here, I can't help but imagine that person. And it hits me like a lightning bolt that Lennox Burke is the ultimate match. He's my bodyguard, a fact that my moral conscience reminds me of. It's the reason I refuse to let my gaze wander to his tempting lips or his imposing six-foot-three build. I don't even allow him to read my reaction for too long. I quickly tie the loose drawstring of my pants and then kneel on the rug, eventually ly