Page 13 of Faking it with the Billionaire
“How closely related are we talking?” She taps her foot, and I can sense the cogs rotating in her head, trying to piece it together with the bits I’ve given her.
Given that she’s former FBI, I expect her to be relatively familiar with the Moretti family. They’re the only Italian mafia organization in the New York area. Of course, there’s also the Russian mafia run by the Barniovs, but I should consider myself lucky my daughter doesn’t have ties to them.
“Does it matter?” I’m trying my damndest to keep Ashleigh’s secret while still protecting Bristol.
“And Antonio Moretti has his children, Liam and Sophia, enrolled in Briarwood,” Emerson says, reiterating what I’ve already told her.
“Yes.” I nod, waiting for further instructions from her.
She curses under her breath just as the vehicle she’s hired pulls up to the curb. She opens the back door, tells him she’s canceling the ride, and then spins around to face me. “If you pull any more of that crap you did earlier, I’ll shoot you myself. With my real gun.”
“Got it, M&M.”
“And no more stupid nicknames.” She jabs her finger into my chest.
Emerson is cute when she’s pissed. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes pin me, making my cock harden. The things I could do to her if given a night together. One wild, abandoned night. Don’t they say good things come in small packages?
She’s definitely a small package that I’d love to unwrap slowly and methodically. I’d take my time undressing her, savoring every inch of her naked skin.
“We’ll see,” I say, silently relieved that she’s sticking around. I’m not sure why, considering the fact that an hour earlier, I was questioning her ability to keep my daughter safe.
Did I want her here for me?
That was a thought I needed to squash before it became outright dangerous. My little firecracker is off-limits.
Mine?
I clear my throat and usher her back inside the stadium, doing my best to dispel any lingering thoughts of Emerson. I did manage to cast a glance at her pert little ass.
What I’d give to see her naked, writhing beneath me, begging for my cock, giving up all control as she lets me take her and possess her.
Down, boy.
Those are wicked thoughts bound to land my ass in boiling water and without a bodyguard for Bristol.
“You can have the rest of the afternoon off until Bristol is released from school,” I say. Expecting Emerson to work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, isn’t fair to her. Besides, she’s no good to me if she’s burned out or distracted.
* * *
The minute Emerson is away from the arena, Jasper comes barreling down the hallway, heading right for me. “Where’s the cute bodyguard?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
He’s the only one who knows about Bristol’s mother. It was on his suggestion that I hire someone to watch over my daughter when I can’t be around. He’s been on my case for years, and with the recent threats, I finally took the plunge.
And the team, they all think I hired Emerson after a stalker incident with an overzealous fan.
“I sent her home to rest or whatever,” I say, waving my hand in the air. “I don’t need to worry about any threats here, and if she’s burned out before Bristol gets home from school, I’m screwed.”
“You’d like to be screwed by her,” Jasper says with a wicked grin.
He’s right, but that isn’t the point. “She’s my daughter’s bodyguard. I’m not fucking her.”
“Well, not yet, anyway. Are we still on for this weekend?”
I’m grateful Jasper manages to steer the conversation away from Emerson, but I had completely forgotten the gathering I planned with my buddies.
“Fuck.”
“You forgot.” Jasper folds his arms across his chest, glancing me over. “That’s uncharacteristic of you. I thought by now you’d be hiring caterers and a full staff to entertain—”
