on the nightstand, turn on my lamp and turn off the overhead light. I pull off my terrycloth bathrobe and put it on the hook on my door, then look in the mirror, smiling at the splurge I made earlier this week when Victoria’s Secret was having a sale. I never shop there, preferring Target-variety panties and bras. But the nightie in the shop window made me wistful and I couldn't help but stop and make the purchase .
It's soft pink and silky, and something women probably reserve for their lovers. But considering I've never had a lover, and that my brothers have threatened to beat up any man who so much as tries to talk to me, I don't exactly see a long-lasting relationship in my near future. Or any relationship.
Still, that doesn't mean I shouldn't wear something pretty when I slip into bed, reading my Kindle, my fingers sliding between my thighs.
It's flattering, the nightie. It hugs my curves, accentuating my wide hips and big breasts--something I never flaunt in real life, preferring oversized sweaters to anything low-cut.
As I step out of my slippers and pull back the covers on the bed, I smile, refusing to let the chaos outside my bedroom determine how my night will go.
But that's before the gunshot.
Terror runs its way up my spine and my heart begins to race.
As I rush from the bedroom, I see a raised gun, the crowd divided, and then I feel a man's hands on me, dragging me away.
Sampson
This woman has no business being here at this party. She's screaming, scared, but I point, showing her that the bullet clearly went through a window, not someone's skin, but still her knees give out. The room is clearing, fast. People are running from the front and back door, and I don't hesitate.
I pick her up before she falls and carry her from the living room, back down the hall where she ran from.
The moment I saw her, I knew she was something special, but it wasn't until a trigger was pulled that I realized she was more than a treasure. She is a fucking precious gemstone, and I would be the man to protect her.
I see an open bedroom door and carry her inside. It's clear it is her bedroom, the tea she was making is still steaming on her table and I kick the door shut and lock it.
"This is your home?" I ask her, sitting her down on her bed and looking down at this sweet thing.
She nods. "Yeah, I live here with my brothers, but..." She shakes her head, her thick dark hair in her eyes. She pushes it away, and I see that there are tears in her blue eyes. "Nothing like that has ever happened. I should make sure everyone is okay."
"No one was shot," I tell her.
She nods. "I didn't think so. After I heard the noise, I ran out of my room and saw my brothers in the kitchen. That was right before you pulled me away."
I run a hand over my jaw, taking her in. She's lost the thick bathrobe and is now in nothing but a teeny tiny nightie. "You were going to faint."
"I still think I might." She exhales, and the rise and fall of her breasts is so damn sexy I feel my cock twitch at the sight of her.
"No one can hurt you, not while I'm here. I'll protect you."
Her eyes widen, and she presses a hand to her chest and licks her lips.
There is a knock on her door and her eyebrows knit with concern. Someone is slamming their fists on the door, trying to open it.
"Open the door," a man's voice calls.
"Porter?" she asks, her eyes darting to mine.
"Yeah. Open up," he hollers.
Biting her lip, she stands and tells me to get in her closet.
"Your what?"
"My closet. My brother will kill you if he knows I'm here with you."
"Your brother?"
"Yeah, Porter. He's... overprotective." She shoves me toward a closet door and presses a finger to her lips, telling me to keep quiet.
I hear her opening the bedroom door and listen without making a sound, but the door is left open a crack and I can see them. He's a big guy, tattoos all over him, and I wonder again why I let the guys from the ship bring me here tonight. It's not my typical scene, though looking at this girl’s backside in that silky nightgown, I can't help but think it was a good