Like the way Jayce has a look in his eye right now as he watches her. The kind of look that makes me want to sneak into his apartment tonight and slit his throat.
Leaning in toward him, I say, “She’s finishing up. Go and do a sweep of her dressing room.”
Jayce startles and looks at me for a moment as if he doesn’t understand what I just said. But I am his superior and he’s a military man so he knows how to take orders. “Sure thing.”
Jayce leaves and I give my attention not to Joslyn, but to the surroundings. My eyes roam the theater, looking for that one crazy who might want to rush the stage. It’s happened during a few of her performances before, usually by a drunk, horny teenager. I don’t look back at Joslyn now that Jayce is gone as right now it’s my full job to protect her.
* * * *
I hang back a few steps while Joslyn and Michel walk toward her dressing room with their arms linked together. As she walked off the stage and straight toward me, she was still smiling and waving to her fans. The minute she was out of their sight, her entire body seemed to almost sag and I started to reach out for her. But then Michel was there, putting an arm around her waist and giving praise for her performance. She looked unsure about his compliments but then her smile returned. It was a clear moment of self-doubt she was having and it surprised me. She’s fucking fantastic and I don’t understand how she could even have a moment’s hesitation in owning that.
It’s gone now though. She’s all smiles and laughter with Michel as we approach her dressing room. Jayce is standing outside in the classic security guard stance—legs spread, hands clasped together at his lower back and spine ramrod straight.
Michel opens the door and disappears inside. I move to stand on the other side of Jayce but Joslyn touches my arm. “Please come in.”
I don’t know what to say to that. She wants me in her dressing room. Why? Michel is in there and so is her mother, who chooses to wait there during the performances.
She doesn’t wait for me to acknowledge her request but steps over the threshold. I follow her in and shut the door behind me.
Madeline Meyers—dressed in a chic white pantsuit with wide legs—is sitting on the loveseat set against a short wall of the cramped little room. She’s got a magazine on her lap, one leg crossed over the other.
Without glancing up, she asks no one in particular, “How did it go?”
Michel responds. “She slayed it, of course. As usual.”
“Wonderful,” Madeline says and shoots a proud but short smile at Joslyn. She then nods at a large glass filled with a green liquid sitting on the vanity table where Michel styles Joslyn up before a show. “Drink your smoothie.”
Joslyn wrinkles her nose but picks the glass up. I’m not crazy about vegetables to begin with—corn and maybe potatoes are okay—so I have a sympathy gag reflex when she takes a large swallow, struggling to get it down.
Madeline goes back to reading her magazine.
Joslyn watchers her mom a moment, perhaps wondering what would happen if she dumped the drink in the garbage. The expression on her face is definitely calculating, like she’s mentally weighing odds about something.
She seems to come to a decision, if the resolved look in her eyes is any indication, and she takes another large swallow of the drink. Turning her back to Michel, she says, “Unzip me.”
My entire body goes taut, as I realize she’s going to undress in front of me. Madeline pays no attention and Michel doesn’t think twice. He steps up and takes the zipper at the top of her neck, dragging it slowly down until it stops just above the crack of her butt. I try not to look—honestly, I do—but the bare skin being revealed is too irresistible and the fact I don’t see a scrap of lace or silk at the bottom tells me she’s not wearing panties under that skintight suit.
Fuck.
Joslyn looks at me, one corner of her mouth lifting up as she breezes by me to a three-panel privacy screen in the corner. She disappears behind it and I hear the sound of her glass being set down upon something. Michel goes to the vanity and busies himself organizing, and Madeline is absorbed in her magazine.
From the corner of my eye, the black, sparkly outfit is tossed over the top of the screen, and my cock actually thumps from the knowledge the Joslyn is completely naked on the other side.
“Michel,” she says in a blasé voice. “Let’s go out dancing tonight.”
At this, Madeline’s head pops up. She looks at Michel, who freezes in place, looking at Madeline through the reflection of the vanity mirror. Dropping her gaze to her magazine, she says in a stern voice, “That’s not a good idea.”
Michel ducks his head and pretends he’s ignoring everything, but his body tenses. I get the feeling he’s witnessed some awkward conversations between mother and daughter over the last several months.
“It’s a great idea,” Joslyn says in a pleasant voice.
Madeline’s eyes raise and pin hard against the privacy screen, as if she could bore holes through it to reach her daughter. “I don’t want you—”
“To what?” Joslyn cuts in and her head pops out from the side of the screen. Her shoulders are bare and I wonder if she had time to put on panties yet. Her expression is defensive. “Don’t want me partying? Making a bad name for myself? Hanging out with the wrong people? Embarrassing you? Myself? Tanking my career?”
I blink in surprise at the vehemence in her voice. All indications so far lead me to believe that Joslyn definitely defers to her mother in most things. Clearly, this is an age-old argument between the two of them.
Madeline softens her voice to a placating tone. “I don’t want you to be in danger.”
Joslyn’s face also goes soft and her voice sweetens. “You don’t have to worry about that. I now have a bodyguard.”
I get a side-eyed glance from Joslyn and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“I’m not paying them to babysit you while you party,” Madeline replies tightly.
“First,” Joslyn says with heat returning to her voice, “I don’t party. But I do like to dance. And second, the casino is paying for Jameson Group, not you.”
Madeline opens her mouth but I find myself intervening in a place I should absolutely keep my fucking mouth shut. “Ma’am... it’s part of our job. To watch Joslyn wherever she goes, twenty-four hours a day. It’s something we routinely do... attending social events with our clients for their protection.”
I have no clue if this is true. This is my first personal security detail but we have it set up for three separate shifts in a twenty-four-hour period, which includes overnight protection. So I’m going to assume my job is to watch over Joslyn wherever she may be.
Or rather, it’s Jameson’s job and my job if I’m on duty.
Madeline glares at me, her jaw locked tight, then lets her gaze fall back down to the magazine. She tries to go for easygoing but her voice is clipped and offended. “Fine. Have a good time and be careful.”
“I will,” Joslyn says, her voice truly gentling so that her mom won’t worry.
Madeline doesn’t acknowledge her at all and Joslyn sighs as she disappears behind the privacy screen once again.