Guarding Miss Woodall Ch. 02

Marcus woke up after the best night's sleep he'd had in god knew how long. It took him a while to properly come to, his mind fuzzy as he opened his eyes. He realized he was naked, which was odd -- he'd gone to bed in his underwear.

When he smelled her lavender shampoo on the pillow, though, last night's events came flooding back to him.

Holy shit. That's right. He'd fucked Evie Woodall -- his charge -- last night. Marcus sat bolt upright in bed as he remembered, frantically looking about the room. No sign of Evie -- though there was plenty of evidence of what had occurred on his sheets. He leapt out of bed and quickly stripped off the sheets, dashing down the hall and stuffing them into the washing machine. While the washer was going, Marcus hopped into the shower and scrubbed off the sweat and other lingering bodily fluids. Once he was clean and dressed in his usual black jeans and black t-shirt, he felt a little better. No more proof of what had happened for his boss to somehow discover.

Marcus held his breath as he descended the stairs, nerves shooting through his body at the thought of facing Evie. What had he been thinking? Sure, it might've been the best sex he'd ever had, but would it be worth potentially losing his job? Last night, in the heat of passion, Marcus had decided fucking Evie was worth any consequence. In the bright light of day, he wasn't so sure.

He spotted her at the kitchen counter, pouring a cup of coffee, her blonde hair still damp from the shower she must've taken as well. The last stair creaked as Marcus stepped on it, and she spun around.

"Good morning," Evie said with a knowing smile as she sipped her coffee.

Marcus cleared his throat, having trouble meeting her gaze. "Good morning, Miss Woodall."

Evie arched an eyebrow. "Miss Woodall?" She asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Last night it was 'baby.'"

Marcus internally cringed and opened his mouth to reply, but as he watched Evie slowly make her way towards the barstool and gingerly seat herself upon it, a fresh jolt of guilt washed over him.

"I hurt you," Marcus remarked, shaking his head. He was such a selfish fuck.

"Marcus, calm down," Evie said. "I'm a little sore, but it's no big deal. That just means you did your job," she added with a laugh.

"My job is to protect you," Marcus replied, voice sharp. He finally made eye contact. "Not to go to bed with you. Last night was a mistake."

Evie's smiled vanished. "No it wasn't," she insisted. "We both needed that, Marcus. Don't try to tell me otherwise."

"It never should've happened," he said. "I take full responsibility. I shouldn't have let it happen."

"I seduced YOU, remember?" Evie prompted.

"I can't stay," Marcus said. "I'll have to resign. You deserve someone here you can really trust -- who won't be distracted. Not someone who's too busy thinking about his own pleasure."

Evie stood abruptly. "You are not resigning!" She marched over to him. "What the hell is wrong with you? We have a fantastic night together, and you're going to leave me? Just like that?!"

Marcus wasn't sure how to respond. He didn't want to leave, not at all, but he saw no other option here. He couldn't continue doing his job with this temptation now. He couldn't touch her again without risking everything. He couldn't be an effective bodyguard if he was also fucking his charge -- and if something happened while he was more focused on getting off than Evie's safety, he would never forgive himself.

"I'm sorry," he offered. "I never meant to hurt you."

Anger and hurt flashed into Evie's eyes -- something Marcus had never seen. Even when she'd been at her most distraught after the kidnapping, she'd never looked at him this way. She'd always looked at him with so much trust and adoration.

That was gone now.

"You're an asshole," Evie hissed before storming up the stairs and locking herself in her room.

Marcus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hated this -- he hated hurting her. And he couldn't deny he was hurt by this, too. Try as he might to ignore it, Marcus did want Evie again. It wasn't just about the sex, either, which terrified him. Hell, he'd settle for just holding her right now until she wasn't upset with him anymore.

Dangerous thinking. Marcus shook his head and pulled out his cell phone, knowing he had to resign now before he lost his nerve.

Mr. Woodall picked up on the first ring.

"Is everything okay, Marcus?" He asked, the panic tangible in his voice.

"Hi, sir. Yes, everything is fine. Sorry to worry you," Marcus said.

Mr. Woodall exhaled. "Damn near gave me a heart attack, son."

"Sorry," Marcus said again, automatically.

"Well, what is it, then?"

Marcus cleared his throat, unsure of how to continue. "The thing is, well..." He sighed. "There's no easy way to say this, sir, but I'm going to have to give you my notice."

Dead silence on the other end of the phone.

"Sir?" Marcus prompted.

"Your notice?" Mr. Adana Escort Woodall asked, as if he were unfamiliar with the word.

"Yes," he replied with as much confidence as he could muster. "I'm so sorry, but I can't continue working for you. I know you'll need to find a suitable replacement, so I can stay on for as long as that takes, but..."

"Marcus, cut the shit and tell me what's really going on," Mr. Woodall said flatly. "You've worked for me for years without so much as a complaint. And now all of a sudden you want out?"

Terror coursed through Marcus, as if Mr. Woodall would somehow be able to figure out Marcus had fucked his daughter.

"It's not you, sir," Marcus assured him. "You've been very good to me. But it's just...this particular posting," he added quickly. "The secluded nature of the assignment. It's getting to me. And if I'm not sharp, I won't be able to do my job properly."

Marcus waited in silence to see if Mr. Woodall bought this.

"I know what this is really about," Mr. Woodall declared. "It's Evie, isn't it?"

Marcus's heart stopped.

"S-sir?" He managed.

"You can drop the act," he continued. Marcus's legs felt weak and he had to sit down on the couch.

"You aren't getting along with Evie, are you?" Mr. Woodall asked. As the shock wore off, Marcus had the urge to laugh.

"What? No, I--"

"Don't lie to me, son," Mr. Woodall said. "It's okay. I know my daughter can be difficult."

A defense immediately leapt to Marcus's lips. "No, of course not. She's fine. She's..."

"She's a spoiled brat," Mr. Woodall said simply. "And I suppose I'm to blame for that, but there's not much I can do about it now. I'm sorry you're stuck there with her, Marcus. To be honest, I'm glad to have some distance from her right now."

Marcus sat there in stunned silence as Mr. Woodall continued to detail every way in which he found his daughter to be lacking or disappointing. He couldn't believe it. Marcus had never witnessed Evie being anything other than a kind, friendly young woman -- yet her own father acted as if he could hardly tolerate her.

"So I understand you wanting to quit," Mr. Woodall finally concluded. "But you're the best man I've got on my team, Marcus. I can't lose you. So what'll it take, hmm? Another twenty thousand to finish out the job?"

"What? No, sir, it's not about the money..."

"It's always about money," Mr. Woodall said definitively. "Hell, I'll make it thirty, okay?" When Marcus didn't immediately respond, Mr. Woodall sighed. "Think it over, will you? Give it a week. Let that new number sink in."

Backed into a corner, Marcus could do nothing but hesitantly agree to think on it. He continued staring at the phone long after Mr. Woodall had hung up, dazed by what just happened. Had he really just somehow talked himself into a thirty thousand dollar raise?

No. The goal was to get away from Evie. He couldn't let this number sway him.

He'd just have to make it through one more week, and then tell Mr. Woodall his decision to leave was final.

How hard could that be?

***

The mood in the house shifted dramatically after that. No more meals together, no more video games, no more afternoon chats. Evie was completely icing Marcus out.

He couldn't blame her. And honestly, it was easier this way. He'd been concerned she'd beg him to stay, which would've made it all the more difficult to say no.

On the third day, Evie finally spoke to him when they happened to pass each other in the kitchen.

"I thought you were quitting," she said coldly. "Why are you still here, then?"

"Your dad wants me to think it over this week before giving him my final answer," Marcus replied. "But I'm not going to change my mind."

Evie scoffed and shook her head. "Asshole," she muttered again before leaving the room.

On the fourth night, Marcus woke up rock hard after having a dream about Evie -- specifically, a dream involving him bending her over the kitchen table and fucking her from behind. Frustrated, he tried to ignore his erection but after it refused to go away, he gave in and stroked himself, mentally reliving his and Evie's entire experience together. He thought about the way she'd ridden him, about how her giant tits felt in his hands, about how she'd swallowed all his cum...

The memory alone made Marcus come so hard he briefly wondered if it'd be so terrible to take her to bed again.

Somehow, he made it to the sixth night without losing his resolve. Marcus had stayed strong and stayed away from Evie. He was fully ready to go through with his resignation when he talked to Mr. Woodall the next day.

But the sound of shattering glass woke him up around one a.m. Marcus immediately leapt to his feet, gun in hand, and quickly made his way down the hall. He listened at the top of the stairs and definitely heard footsteps in the living room. Cocking his pistol, he carefully descended the stairs, ready to fire at the intruder.

"Motherfucker."

Marcus Adıyaman Escort exhaled heavily and lowered his weapon as he saw there was no intruder at all. Instead, Evie had snuck downstairs for a drink it seemed -- an open bottle of vodka sat on the coffee table -- but she'd dropped her glass. That's what had awoken Marcus.

"Shit." Evie muttered another curse from where she was kneeling on the floor, attempting to pick up the pieces of broken glass. Marcus sighed and flipped on the light.

"Stop, you'll hurt yourself," he instructed. Marcus found a dustpan and brush in the kitchen and cleaned up the mess, Evie plopping down on the couch far away from him.

Once the glass was cleaned up, Marcus turned his attention to Evie, who was holding her open hands out. He could see blood.

"How bad is it?" Marcus asked, sitting next to her to get a better look at her hands. Evie jerked them away.

"I'm fine. Just go," she replied.

Marcus sighed frustratedly. "Let me see," he said, his voice stern and deep -- a voice he used with bad guys. Never Evie. The tone startled her into compliance.

After examining the several cuts on her hands, Marcus retrieved the first aid kit from the bathroom and went to work, cleaning out the wounds with alcohol before wrapping bandages around them. Evie was silent during this process, only letting out the occasional wince of pain.

"You should go back to bed," Marcus said once he was done.

"Can't sleep," she mumbled.

"Nightmares again?" He asked.

She shook her head. Evie was silent for several seconds, and Marcus assumed she wouldn't elaborate. But eventually, she did.

"I can't sleep," she repeated, "because I know that when I wake up, it'll be the day you leave."

Marcus felt his heart crunch in his chest like a dead leaf.

"Miss Woodall..." he said gently.

"Am I really that bad?" Evie turned to look at him, finally, and he saw tears welling up in her eyes. "Is being stuck here with me really so horrible that you have to leave, with no other job lined up?"

"What?" Marcus asked, the shock apparent in his voice.

"My dad can't stand me," Evie continued, sniffling. "That's why he stuck me here by myself. He never visits. He barely takes my calls." She grabbed the vodka and swigged right from the bottle, since her glass had shattered. "I can't keep in touch with any of my friends, because I can't give any hints about where I am," she continued. "I have no one, Marcus. Absolutely no one. I thought I at least had you, but apparently not."

It felt like someone was sinking a dagger into Marcus's gut painfully slowly.

"Miss Woodall, that's just not true," he said gently, holding her bandaged hands. "Being here with you is the best job I've ever had."

Evie gave him a doubtful look.

"Try to understand," Marcus implored. "For us to have any sort of personal relationship...it's dangerous. It could distract me. I could lose sight of the real reason I'm here."

"If you don't want to be with me again, all you had to do was say so," Evie replied. "You don't have to leave. We can go back to how things were."

"You want to know how things really were?" Marcus said. "From the moment we set foot here, you've been in my head. Constantly. I had dreams about you. Fantasies. I got hard around you all the time. I touched myself and always thought about you."

Evie's eyebrows rose at this confession. "This whole time?"

Marcus nodded. "I can't go back to how things were, knowing that you'd let me in your bed again. I wouldn't be able to resist."

"So that's it then?" She asked. "You're still leaving?"

"I don't want to. But I have to," Marcus said.

Evie gave him a vague nod, the tears in her eyes suddenly spilling out down her cheeks. Without thinking, Marcus put his arms around her and pulled her close. Evie let him hold her as she cried, her tears wetting the front of his shirt.

Marcus wasn't sure how long they sat like that, but eventually, the tears stopped and Evie's body relaxed more against him.

"I got your shirt all wet," she said with a sniffle, her hand touching his chest. Marcus tried to ignore how that felt.

"It's okay," he replied.

"So, if you're leaving tomorrow," Evie said quietly, her hand still softly rubbing his chest, "would there really be any harm in doing it again?"

The mere question made Marcus's cock twitch and sent his heart racing. He knew it wasn't the professional thing to do, but he'd already crossed that boundary last week. And he was leaving after all. And it seemed this could help Evie feel better...

"If you're sure that's what you want," Marcus replied, struggling to keep his tone even. "I would love to be with you again."

Evie wasted no time in sitting up, grabbing Marcus's face, and planting a deep, romantic kiss on his lips. He let out a moan of surprise at her urgency, but wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. Evie straddled Afyon Escort him and began moving her hips as their tongues twisted, getting Marcus hard in record time. She tugged at the hem of his shirt, and the two broke their kiss so Evie could pull it off of him completely. Her hands -- smooth, except for the roughness of the band-aids -- ran across his hard pecs.

"Marcus, I have one condition," Evie said as she relieved herself of her own t-shirt.

"Anything," Marcus replied as he got a glimpse of those creamy, heavy breasts again. Evie's pink nipples were already hard like little pebbles, and those brushed against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You have to call me Evie," she insisted. "I've never heard you say my name."

Marcus swallowed hard. He slid a big hand up Evie's torso and gently cupped one of her breasts, playing with her nipple with his thumb.

"Alright," he murmured. "You have the most beautiful breasts I've seen in my life, Evie."

She flashed him a devilish grin as her eyes darkened with desire. Evie leaned forward and started to kiss his jaw, her lips moving down his throat -- sucking and biting.

"Say it again."

"Evie," he replied automatically, his eyes closing as he leaned his head back against the couch, enjoying the feeling of her lips nipping the sensitive skin of his throat.

"Again," she commanded.

"Evie," Marcus said, his voice deep and gravelly, his cock now painfully hard.

"We need to get you out of these," Evie remarked, reaching down to fish out his cock from his boxers.

"Hold on," Marcus said, grabbing her wrist to stop her. She looked up at him with her big blue eyes. "There's something I want to do first."

Before Evie could reply, Marcus stood, lifting her with him. She giggled and clung to him tightly as he maneuvered her onto her back on the sofa, her hips elevated by the arm, legs dangling over the edge. Marcus knelt and hooked his fingers into her cotton panties, quickly shucking them off of her. Evie let out another excited giggle as Marcus hooked his arms under her plump thighs and pulled her even closer to him, her soft, pink center completely exposed.

"You want me to make you come, Evie?" Marcus asked as he brought his lips to her inner thigh, slowly kissing his way up towards her pussy.

"Yes, please," Evie moaned, wriggling her hips excitedly. Marcus planted a light kiss onto her lower lips, and he felt Evie shiver. Grinning to himself, Marcus gave her slit a long, slow lick, flicking his tongue around her clit.

"Oh, god," Evie murmured. Marcus continued to tease her, barely applying any pressure as he gently licked around her most sensitive spot. After a few minutes of this, Evie huffed frustratedly.

"Marcus, you're killing me," she pouted.

"Patience, baby," he growled softly. After a few more licks, Marcus dove in, furiously moving his lips against Evie's pussy, pushing his tongue up inside her.

"UHhhhh," Evie yelled, squirming beneath him as he ate her out. Marcus reached up and grabbed one of her firm tits as he continued to work his mouth against Evie's sex, pressing his face hard against her. She began to buck up.

"Just like that," Evie panted out as she thrust against his face. "Don't. Stop."

Evie's thighs tightened around Marcus's head as she used him build her orgasm, but he didn't care. She tasted amazing, and knowing he was causing her all this pleasure made his cock ache even more. Jesus. If Mr. Woodall could see what Marcus was doing to his daughter now...

"I'm so close, Marcus," Evie panted out. Marcus moved up and applied the full force of his mouth directly against her clit, his tongue lapping away, and Evie lost it.

"Ahhhhhhhh!" Evie cried out loudly, her hips completely off the couch as she ground against Marcus's mouth. He could feel her pulsing against his lips. He didn't move until Evie began to relax, slowly lowering her hips back to the couch. Marcus kissed her inner thigh again before getting to his feet. He pushed down his boxers and his throbbing erection sprang free, pre-cum leaking down his tip.

Evie, still recovering, managed to slowly sit up on the couch. Her eyes widened as they locked in on Marcus's hard cock.

"How are we doing this?" She asked eagerly.

Marcus shrugged. "However you want."

"You said you've had dreams about me," Evie said, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. "What do we do in your dreams?"

A smile twitched at Marcus's lips as he took a few steps closer to Evie. He held out his hand, and Evie took it.

"Well," he started pulling her naked body against his. He reached down and grabbed her ass as his erection pressed against her soft tummy. Still wrapped around each other, Marcus slowly started to walk them towards the kitchen.

"I had this dream the other night," he continued as they neared the table. "Where I bent you over this table and fucked you as hard as I could."

Evie gasped. "Marcus!"

"You asked," he replied.

"I've just never heard you talk like this before," Evie replied, kissing his chest as he continued to feel up her ass. "I like it," she added. Evie wrapped her small hand around Marcus's hard, brown shaft and stroked him with just enough pressure to drive him crazy.