3: Feelings Gone Haywire

Isabella woke up the following day with a massive headache. Probably because she had cried herself to sleep. After she had ordered Asher off her room, she had gone back to viewing pictures and at some point, she got overwhelmed and pulled a joint she had stashed in a drawer. It wasn't surprising when she empty the plate afterward. But once she finished eating, it was like her grief hit again. Ten folds.

“Fuck!” She groaned, looking for the Advil she keeps for such occasions. She quickly took a pill and gulped much-needed water before sitting on the toilet with a sigh. After emptying her bladder, Isabella jumped right into the shower. She was feeling all sticky and worn. Standing under the warm water, Isabella's mind drifted to Asher. He had been decent with her yesterday, despite how curt and rude she had been with him. She planned to take it easy on him henceforth. Turning off the shower, Isabella grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself before sauntering back to her bedroom. There she began drying herself unhurriedly. She discarded the damp towel on her bed and began lathering oil on her body. A heard a knock, followed by Asher's voice. She immediately authorized entry with a naughty grin on her face.

“Bloody hell!” Asher cursed, covering his eyes instantly. “Don't you have clothes?” He groaned, turning to leave.

“Will you be a dear and some clothes for me?” Isabella asked sweetly, very sure he won't. But he surprised her. Like always. He marched to her walk-in closet and grabbed a yellow sundress, black leather jacket, and sandals for her. “No panties?” She asked with mock innocence once he threw the outfit on her bed. With an exasperated sigh, Asher went back to the closet, opening random drawers until he found her inner garments. For some reason, he chose a marching red lacy thong and a strapless bra.

Isabella chuckled at his choice. “This will definitely show in this dress.” She teased, making Asher scoff.

“That fabric ain't see me through.” Her eyes widened in surprise. The man wasn't new to women's fashion.

“Where did you learn about that?” He expected him to say from the many women he had encountered, but his answer was sobering.

“You are not the first brat I have babysat.” And the good mood went out of the window. Isabella immediately dismissed him curtly. After dressing, she left her room, heading for the kitchen. She passed him by her door without a word. He followed closely, dutifully.

“Marcia,” Isabella greeted their maid warmly with a kiss on both cheeks. It was Asher's turn to pop his eyes. He is yet to see her nice to anyone. As if on cue, the gardener Paul entered, and similarly, Isabella greeted him. The two then began scolding her. From the conversation, Asher gathered she had quit drugs but picked up again on the filthy habit recently.

In her defense, Isabella said she had a lot happening, and it was her only solace. Marcia and Paul argued they were there for her and always will, and she is the only reason they are still sticking around. Isabella begged them to leave, saying they deserve to work for people who truly appreciate them.

“Your mother, God rest her soul took us from the streets. I would never abandon her baby when she still needs me.” Paul said softly.

“As long as you are here, we will too,” Marcia confirmed, kissing Isabella's forehead before turning to Asher with a stern gaze.

“Take care of her,”

“I will,” Asher responded, running his gaze between the three of them. They looked like what a family should be. Something he never got. For a second, he envied Isabella. Though she lost her mother, she had people there for her. Something he can't say about himself.

*******

On the drive to the local police station, no one uttered a word. Each was lost in thoughts. For Isabella, she still couldn't believe that her friend was dead. And then the 'what if' questions floored her mind. It could have been her on that concrete instead of Silvia. Isabella was sure of it. She is a competitive person innately. And considering how competitive she is, she might have taken the dare if she wasn't on the phone taunting Asher. In fact, she had intended to do so the moment she hung up the phone. A truth she hasn't told anyone.

“Are you ready?” Asher asked, turning to look at her in concern after parking.

“Do I have a choice?” Isabella blurted, making Asher shut his mouth helplessly. “Then let's go.” She sassed, unbuckling her seat belt. “Assuming you are needed there, that is.”

“I am very much needed.” He confirmed getting out of the car first and held her door open. Isabella stepped out and looked around the lousy-looking post and flinched. The last time she was there was twelve years ago. When she had to give her a detailed statement in regard to her mother's death. And the damn station somehow looked the same. Wishing to get out of their fast, Isabella walked inside. After stating her business, the officer in charge of the case was called and she and Asher re-counted what they had said the day before. It was a straightforward thing and both were left in no time. After Isabella was asked to name everyone who was there,, of course. By the time the police had arrived, very few were in the vicinity and most were blacked out and had seen nothing.

The next stop was a shopping mall. Isabella picked two scented candles from bath and body works, and a bottle of red wine, château Serres from a supermarket before heading to her favorite florist where she picked the usual bouquet of white roses. She then had Asher drive them to the cemetery. Unknown to her new bodyguard, or anyone in her family, it is a monthly ritual. Buying the said items and spending at least an hour or two in the cemetery talking to her mother's tombstone. If Asher was surprised, he didn't show. Afterward, Isabella just opted to go home.

Asher tried asking her if there was anything he could do to help, but she shrugged him off, saying what she needed he couldn't offer. He was curious as usual and insisted on knowing. “I need a shattering, mind-numbing orgasm. I doubt you can give me that.” She disappeared to her room without another word. And Asher has been torturing himself since. Wishing he could damn the consequences and barge into her room and the fuck the living daylights out of her. But he couldn't. So, he just stood outside her door and listened. Keenly. Listened with baited interest, wondering if she will get herself off.

For Isabella, however, it was a nightmare. Despite how long she massaged herself, she couldn't seem to even build up. Not until she pictured a certain freakishly gorgeous someone did she come. And violently. Mortified of what it took to get her satisfaction, or rather who, Isabella fumed. She had always depended on her toys to get work done, but it was obvious that's not the case anymore. So, when Asher knocked on her to give her some snacks courtesy of Marcia, Isabella went bat crazy on him.

“You are fucking frustrating my libido.” She yelled to his face. Asher looked at her smile. She was even more beautiful, frustrated if that is even. Possible. One minute she was accusing him of paying for the other team and the next he had pinned her against the door eating the shit out of her lips.

“Does that feel like someone batting for the other team?” He growled, tearing his lips from hers breathlessly. Isabella couldn't string a coherent thought, let alone answer. So, she resulted in gaping. And gaping she did until Asher was unable to take the blatant longing in her eyes anymore and claimed her lips once again. This time he wasn't gentle nor tentative. He kissed her like he had been dreaming of doing it for years. Like he owned her, branding her as his. And Isabella clung to him every step of the way tightly, rubbing herself all over his toned flesh. Neither realized it when he hoisted her up and she automatically encircled her legs around his waist. She gripped his hair tightly and tilted his head, giving as good as she got. They only came up for a breath and went back to gliding their lips against each other.

“Fuck me,” that simple statement brought sanity to Asher's lust-ridden thoughts. Apart from the fact that his job didn't give him the pleasure of fucking his assignment, Asher reminded himself of the real reason he was in Garcia's household. Revenge. Lucas Garcia's selfish act caused his mother's death. Something his father has never let him forget.

With much difficulty, he pulled away from her with her groan. “We can't,” he rasped, squeezing his eyes shut and exhaling heavily. His mouth was saying one thing, but his body wanted the opposite. Isabella reached out and cupped his face in her soft palms.

“Forget you are working,” she whispered, going on her toes and kissed him. And for a second, Asher engaged her before he pulled off again to her disappointment. “Seriously?” she screamed, needing his touch more. Asher expressed his regret, and it was like pouring petrol on a fire.

“Get out!” She ordered, but Asher didn't want to leave her like that.

“Or would you rather watch as I finger myself?” He didn't make an attempt to move, and neither did he answer. Isabella marched to her bed and pulled out a dildo. She turned it on, sprawled on her back in the bed and parted her legs widely. Asher was surprised to see she didn't have a panty beneath her dress. She aligned the purple toy with her entrance, and he couldn't look any longer without doing something scandalous. He ripped the door open and took off like the hounds of hell were after him.

Of course, Isabella was disappointed when he left. There was something about him watching her touch herself that was hotter than hell. She used that feeling to get herself over the edge. Asher, on the other hand, didn't stop until he was locked safely in the washroom. It was embarrassing and demeaning for him to have to masturbate at work, but it was the only he could bring his sanity back. But his hand wasn't enough. Something he learned pretty quickly. He had to think of Isabella's little display to come.

After wiping and tucking himself, Asher hurried out of the washroom with one thought in mind. He had to get off work early. Unfortunately, the supervisor, the head of Garcia's security team, couldn't let him off because two persons had taken an off day. Luckily for him, the supervisor assumed the brat had become too much. And he was right. Just not in his line of thinking. So, he encouraged Asher to stay out of Isabella's unless she was going out. That's a piece of advice he took heed to. He didn't trust himself near her anymore. And with a good reason.

****

The shift couldn't have come to an end faster for the distraught man. He had paced, thought, and overthought all that could go wrong if anyone catches a whiff of what had just happened. He will not only lose his job and his credibility as well, but his father will be disappointed in him. After all his old man has done to groom him for their revenge.

Asher opened the door to his quarters and once inside, he let out a deep sigh combing his fingers through his hair, before sinking onto the bed. It was harder to get out of his thoughts because he was still on the premises. Unless on an off-day, he is required to be at close range. Essentially, in the same compound. “I am so fucked,” uh he said out loud fetching his phone. He knew just the person to call.

“Marlowe?” The person on the other end of the line sounded surprised, almost… unsure.

“One and only.” Asher teased happily, feeling better already. “How you John?”

“This is a wonder,” John retorted with a chuckle. “Did anyone die?” He asked seriously, making Asher wince. He hadn't contacted the man in over a year. Basically, since he changed his cell number.

“Someone might,” Asher chose to dive directly into his predicament, deciding to deal with apologies later.

“Talk to me,” John said calmly and warmly. Asher took a minute or so to gather his thoughts, and John waited patiently.

“I broke the code.”

“You fucked your assignment?” John asked skeptically because that didn't sound like the prim and proper Asher that he knew. The man he had done training and worked with didn't bend the rules.

“I haven't fucked her yet…” Asher trailed, hoping the man will fill in the blanks. He knew that though he managed to get out on time today, tomorrow might not take the same turn. And with what he was feeling, he wasn't sure he will turn down Isabella's perfect ass down twice.

“Wow!” John breathed clearly, enjoying what he was hearing. “So you are calling me because?”

“Come on!” Asher exclaimed. “You never messed up, dude.” He referred to the time when his friend got involved with his assignment. For two years. And he somehow managed to keep it professional with the woman still. “I need tips,”

John chuckled, an off kind, in Asher's ears. “What are you not telling Johnny?” Asher growled.

“I got fired, man,” John breathed. “About a year ago.” Guilt slammed into Asher like a tornado. He procrastinated reaching out to his friend and without knowing it a year had passed by. Probably the same amount of time his friend needed him, and he wasn't there.

“What happened?” He found himself asking out of curiosity.

“What do you think?” John scoffed. Asher went silent for a minute.

“How did anyone find out?” Asher remembered it was a well-kept secret. Apart from him, John, and the woman involved, no one else knew. Even he, it was because John told him; otherwise he wouldn't have known.

“She wanted more than I could give,” John whispered hoarsely. “When she began blackmailing me, I knew what to do.”

“You resigned.” Asher surmised, knowing he would do the same too rather than be someone's bitch.

“The opposite is a road I can never go down. Despite how desperate I am.”

“I know,” Asher rasped. The two friends talked some more, with Asher catching him up about the latest assignment and how he got there. By the end of the phone call, the two had arranged to meet the following week on Asher's off day. Furthermore, the bodyguard had a rough idea of the kind of tragedy awaiting him if he damns the consequences and engages in an illicit affair with Isabella.