Page 62 of On a Fault Line

“What are your plans for this weekend?”

She sits up and laughs. Hard. Like really, really laughs.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, amused by her humor.

“My uber intrusive bodyguard is asking me—I repeat,me—what my plans are? Ha! Like he doesn’t already know. Don’t you have access to my email and probably texts and such? You probably know even when I go to the bathroom and which part of my cycle I am on.”

She is obviously joking, but must be clueless as to what hurdles I would jump over if necessary to get the information I need. My moral compass broke the day I was forced to leave the military. While I was devastated at the time, my skill set made me a valuable asset to anyone in need of protection. Because I stopped caring.

Settling down became less of a priority.

And my happiness took a back seat to my survival skills.

It wasn’t until I was hired to help the Hoffmans stay secure that I found my passion again and my reason for wanting to live.

The Hoffmans were my turning point.

I try to keep a straight face. “Your brothers said not to pry too hard.”

Penny eyes me with suspicion. “Oh, did they now?” She gives it more thought. “Like that would ever stop you. You love knowing all of the information.”

I shrug. The corners of my lips move up into what I know is a smirk. “I can be intrusive if that makes the image of my job more vivid in your mind. Clearly, you need my services.”

Her mouth gapes. “I’m a good girl, you know? I probably would have done fine without you.”

“You may think you’re a good girl, but it’s the bad girl inside that has the most fun. And fun translates to trouble for you.”

“True. I much prefer my bad-girl persona.”

A warmth washes over me, with the image of Penny on her knees swallowing my cock down her throat, while my fingers tangle in her hair and the words “good girl” roll off my tongue as her mouth works its magic.

Penny may be a good girl, but not in the conventional way she thinks. She would need to learn to pace herself. She would be instructed on how to relax her throat and breathe through her nose. And I would encourage her each step of the way.

“It’s my job to cherish the good girl inside of you and train your bad-girl tendencies.”

Training Penny’s throat to accept all of me would be a great source of joy. I know she would gain a burst of self-esteem the moment she masters how to cope with her gag reflex.

Penny would be my good girl.

I shake my head in hopes to clear it of the filthy thoughts so I don’t fuck her into the sofa cushions when her body needs to relax and adjust to my needy-as-fuck sex drive.

It’s entirely her fault for being so alluring and making me want her at all times of the day.

I never needed sex as much as I do now with her in the protection of my home, where she belongs.

This place may not have been a fuck pad prior to Penny, but she sure is making it into one. I can’t see a surface and not visualize how her body would look pressed against it with me pumping my cum inside of her.

“Can we do that?” she asks, making me snap out of my fantasy reel.

“Do what?”

Gesturing to the screen, I see an advertisement for popcorn.

“Make our own popcorn.”

Grabbing my cell phone, I call Chris.

“Hey, Redeye, what’s up?”

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