Stranger in my Ass-Chapter 220

Kira’s POV

I positioned myself next to the shower, gripping the edge of the glass door. Which meant I was now approximately six inches away from Damien’s very naked, very wet body.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look...

"On three," Damien said. "One... two..."

I lifted.

He pulled.

Nothing happened.

"Harder!" he commanded.

"I’m trying!"

"Try HARDER!"

I adjusted my grip and pulled with more force. The door lifted slightly, and Damien tried to maneuver his leg through the gap.

"Wait, stop!" he yelped. "Wrong angle! You’re making it worse!"

"You said harder!"

"I said harder, not UPWARD! Jesus, have you never helped extract someone from a compromising position before?"

"Generally my extraction scenarios involve less nudity, sir!"

"Well, consider this on-the-job training!"

I tried again, this time lifting and angling the door differently. Damien shifted, his wet skin brushing against my arm, and I nearly dropped the door entirely.

"Careful!" he barked.

"Sorry! Sorry!"

"Are you always this jumpy on missions? Because that’s concerning."

"I’m not jumpy, I’m just..."

"Just what?"

Trying not to notice your very naked and slippery body. Dear God, I needed to call Kennedy after here.

"Focused," I finished lamely.

"Focused," he repeated, disbelief dripping from every syllable. "Right. Well, focus on lifting the door at a forty-five-degree angle while I rotate my leg counterclockwise."

"Are you serious with these instructions?"

"Do you have a better plan?!"

"No!"

"Then forty-five degrees! Counterclockwise! NOW!"

I did as instructed, and finally - FINALLY - his leg slipped free.

Damien stumbled forward, and I instinctively reached out to steady him.

Which meant my hands circled around his waist - a very bare, very hard waist.

We both froze.

His skin was warm under my palms. I could feel the softness of his ass cheeks - and it took every ounce of strength in me not to squeeze it, or spank it. I was eye level with his collarbone, and could see the water droplets clinging there, trailing down...

"You can let go now," Damien said, his voice oddly quiet.

I snatched my hands back like I’d been burned. "Right. Yes. Of course."

He grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it around his waist with as much dignity as one could muster after being extracted from a shower door like a stuck cat.

"Not a word of this to anyone," he said firmly.

"Of course not, sir."

"I mean it, Kyle. If I hear even a whisper..."

"My lips are sealed. This never happened. You were never stuck. I saw nothing."

"You saw everything," he corrected dryly.

"I saw NOTHING," I insisted, my face burning.

Damien studied me for a long moment, and I couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

"You know, Kyle," he said slowly, "as my head of security - who’s supposed to be experienced in emergency situations - you’re remarkably skittish about nudity."

My heart rate spiked. "I’m not skittish."

"You turned bright red the moment you walked in."

"The lighting in here is terrible. Makes everyone look flushed."

"The lighting is perfect. I had it custom designed."

"Then maybe I’m coming down with something."

"Mmm." He took a step closer, and I resisted the urge to back away. "Or maybe you’re not quite what you appear to be."

Oh God. Does he know? Please don’t know just yet. Wait for me to quit so I can willingly leave with my dignity intact.

"I don’t know what you mean, sir," I said carefully.

"You sure?" Another step. He was close enough now that I could see the water still beading on his shoulders, could smell his soap. "Because I’m starting to think my head of security has been keeping secrets."

"Everyone has secrets, sir."

"That’s true." His eyes locked with mine, intense and searching. "The question is - what are yours, Kyle?"

Before I could answer - before I could even figure out HOW to answer - his phone rang from the bedroom.

The spell broke.

Damien glanced toward the sound, then back at me. "We’ll continue this conversation later. For now, get out so I can finish getting ready. And Kyle?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Next time I’m stuck in the shower, maybe call the fire department instead. They’re probably more professional."

I fled.

*******

I stood outside Damien’s office, my usual position, scanning the hallway for anything unusual. Everything was quiet. Normal. Just another day protecting someone who didn’t need protection.

Except it wouldn’t be for much longer.

"Psst!"

I turned slightly to see Julian poking his head around the corner, gesturing frantically for me to come over.

I glanced around, making sure no one was watching, before quickly moving to join him in the secluded corridor.

"You trying to get me fired?" I hissed. "I’m supposed to be on duty."

"Relax. Damien’s on a conference call. He’ll be busy for at least twenty minutes." Julian leaned against the wall, looking far too relaxed for someone who’d been dealing with criminal imposters. "How’s my favorite fake bodyguard doing?"

"Your only fake bodyguard," I corrected. "How did things go with Ryan?"

Julian’s expression turned serious. "Handled. Paid him off with a generous incentive to disappear and never come back. Also made it very clear what would happen if he decided to talk."

"Prison?"

"Among other things."

I frowned. "But if Ryan talks about the identity theft, won’t Olivia go down with him? She’s technically part of the crime - being Oliver and all."

"That’s where it gets interesting." Julian’s smile turned sharp. "I did some digging into Ryan’s background. Turns out our friend has been busy. Identity theft is the least of his crimes. He’s got fraud charges, embezzlement, even suspected involvement in a corporate espionage case that could put him away for twenty years to life."

I felt a shudder run through me. "Jesus. I knew he was a criminal, but..."

"Yeah. So threatening him with exposure wasn’t hard. He took the money and ran. Probably halfway to Mexico by now." Julian studied me for a moment. "So, how’s work going with your hot boss?"

"Julian..."

"Come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that Damien Wellington is..."

"Stop," I said firmly, feeling heat creep up my neck. "I’m seeing someone right now."

Julian laughed out loud. "You? Have a boyfriend? While working for Damien Wellington?"

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means it’s impossible to maintain a relationship when you’re basically married to your job. You’re with Damien all the time. When exactly do you have time for romance? Plus, how can you be working for someone that hot and not get wet?"

I sighed, because he was right. I’ve been trying to make things work with Kennedy, but between my demanding schedule and the constant secrecy about my real identity, I think it was going to be very difficult. I even had to beg my colleague to take my shift yesterday just to have that very tantalizing lunch with Kennedy, but I couldn’t keep doing that. And as for getting wet...

"I’ve thought about it as well," I admitted. "And that’s why I’ve decided I’m quitting. Today."