“Damn. You look good as hell today. My name is Brandon. What’s yours?”
I didn’t even bother making eye contact with him any further, so I turned back towards the pool.
“I'm not interested.”
“Oh, so it’s like that, baby?”
“Yes, and I’m not your baby. So move around.”
I slid my shades down over my eyes.
When I thought he finally walked his thirsty ass away, I pulled out my phone to take a selfie, tilting my chin, catching the sun just right, bobbing my head to the upbeat techno mix the DJ had blasting. I was mid-pout in the camera when a hard body crashed into my back so suddenly that my entire chest jerked forward.
Before I could even gasp, ice and liquid ran down my back, making me scream.
“What the fuck!” I screeched, turning to see the same dumb ass man, Brandon, in the Santa hat, laughing, letting me know that he had done that shit on purpose. My entire head was soaked, and liquor was dripping down over my face.
“Sorry.” He shrugged his shoulders, and I stood up, pushing his ass, causing a scene just that quickly. Only this was Vegas, so the scene wasn’t so chaotic that anyone in the party besides the close bystanders paid any attention to what was happening between us.
“Fuck you! Fuck you! I should get my man to come fuck you up!”
I threatened him with Josiah, who I knew couldn’t even beat me up, but it sounded good to give him a threat.
I was still wiping liquor off my chest when, without warning, a powerful hand closed around my forearm and yanked me so fast my feet barely caught the ground beneath me. The grip was tight enough that I knew there was no point in twisting away, hell, I couldn’t if I wanted to. Before I could get a single word out, I felt my body jerk forward again, this time bumping into Brandon as both of us were dragged across the pool deck like bad ass kids being snatched up by a fed up parent. People moved out of the way on instinct as the man escorted us through the pool area, parting in silence, because he carried the kind ofpresence that warned everyone else not to get involved or in the way.
Brandon stumbled beside me, cussing and tripping over his own feet, but the man dragging us didn’t bother acknowledging either of us. His grip didn’t loosen for a second; his stride didn’t stop, and before I knew it, we were being pulled through the curtains of a private poolside cabana, the fabric brushing over my shoulders as it fell shut behind us.
“Why the fuck are you grabbing me. I didn’t do shit!”
I spun around, ready to defend myself, ready to explain that this dumb ass had spilled his drink all over my body on purpose, but the moment my eyes landed on the man standing in front of us, every explanation died in my throat before I could say a word.
The first thing I noticed was his height; he stood tall enough that I had to tilt my head back just to meet his eyes. His skin was a deep, smooth brown, catching the low cabana light in a way that made him look carved rather than human. He was clearly in his late forties, if I had to guess from the slight sprinkle of grey in his beard, but he wore his age like a weapon rather than a weakness. Not a wrinkle on his face, no softness in his build, and he was big just as you would expect a Vegas security guard to be.
“You don’t have to explain shit to me, baby girl. I saw the entire thing.” He looked over at Brandon so coldly that I saw Brandon swallow the lump in his throat.
“Why the fuck did you do that to her?” he asked, his voice so low it seemed to rumble up from the ground.
Brandon’s voice cracked immediately. “I, I tripped! I fell!”
“Yeah, fuckin right.” The man stepped closer, and his shadow swallowed the Brandon dude whole.
“Who do you think you are lying to? One of them dumb asses you came to the party with? I know you spilled that drink on her on purpose. She rejected you, and your little pussy ass couldn’t take it, could you?”
“Nah, that’s not it. I’m telling you I fell. I wasn’t sweating her.”
“Shut the fuck up. Your voice is just making me madder.”
The guard didn’t let him finish.
He reached over to the bamboo table behind him and picked up a cold champagne bottle that was filled to the top, still sweating from the ice bucket. This cabana looked to be set up for its next guest already, that wasn’t supposed to be me, a security guard, and a dumb ass man that I want to kill.
“Alright nigga. Get down on your fuckin knees now.”
“What, why?” Brandon asked, and the guard spread his lips thin.
“Get on your fuckin knees before I do something worse than what my plans already are for you.
Brandon dropped down on his knees so fast that you would think he was about to suck dick.
