...Dancing was his stronghold.......

^^^His flexible body moves with the dark bass beat as I take a swing from my vodka, squinting as the burn trickles down my throat. I hold onto the table desperately, my legs weakening at his lean seductive body as they shook vigourously, his legs going tipsy-turvy like they had a mind of their own. I'm awe-stricken at the sight, such mastery, such delicate skin, such excellent dance prowess that makes me unable to look away.^^^

...Bright neon lights are flashing and the heavy metal retro music is defeaning but if he happens to yell in that tight striny voice of his, I'd be up on my feet in action to help him and maybe touch a few things I shouldn't, go mad at his Innocence and good looks which he uses to charm me. He's something I shouldn't crave, delicate and glassy like an expensive glass cup I can't have....

...I bring my fist down on the countertop, rattling the half emptied vodka glass which unfortunately didn't break. I needed to feel something else. To feel annoyed at the feelings coursing through my viens but I couldn't. He'd captured my heart and isn't planning on letting it go any minute. I'd welcome a death greater than this forbidden passion for him. That's if there's anything greater than the trance he has me under....

...I'd be his bodyguard....

...This thought melts as I push my way over to him,  wishing he had the chance to run away from me for as far as I can tell, I'm the one he should be protected against....

I try not to lean too hard on the double doors while still trying to catch a word or two from the other side of it, senses alert at my father's monotonous tone. I've been standing here for close to an hour with nothing to show for. Not a single meaningful word and I'm not sure Dad's even speaking English. The man who'd arrived shortly after dinner was in there with them, which was odd because Dad never liked his business colleagues visit or bring their work over for him to solve. When I locked eyes with the man, two things happened. First, my stomach clenched and my breath got caught in my throat. Secondly, the heat rising up my neck made it's way to my cheeks and transformed into an unexpected smile.

He destabilized my cool, something no girl or boy has ever done before.

Maybe it's because he's a full-fledged man and I wasn't used to anyone glancing at me twice. A handsome beast like that shouldn't be left walking without supervision because he looked like someone ready to pounce and kill anyone with just a flick of his fingers and the most confusing part was, why did I feel funny when he stared at me? A subtle awakening of something I'd always known was deeply hidden within me but never discovered. Something that sprang up to the surface the minute I saw him.

My parents are top security and protection officers working in a defence division for one of the most successful companies in the world so I've been around a lot of deadly and mysterious people. My best friend and I had discussed once about the possibility of my parents working undercover for the government. At least that's what Simon thinks, and I believe him. He's so intelligible, there's no way I'd ever doubt his words.

The guys walks with a dark aura around him, his eyes screaming danger at every turn. His hair was Jet-black as a moonless night and his eyes glittered deadly that they matched the colour of his hair. I can tell he doesn't give a care in the world from the way his hair is tousled, beyond messy. He exudes such rare confidence that I find appealing. No boy in school would ever possess such calmness, let alone his bright tattoos which ran up his collarbone and neck before stopping a little below his left cheek. It won't be a surprise if his entire body was covered in ink. The man was so big.

He belongs to the category of people hardly seen everyday. Not that I keep track of such people, I'm only nineteen. What do I know of big deadly men? At school, it's more of sexy badboys and geeky nerds all day round and let me just inform you, they're all dating someone. My school's private and most of the kids there come from rich homes and go home with good grades no matter how academically dull they are. One of the few things which made my school popular. But to be frank, I've never seen a badboy sauntering about with tattooed arms or legs.

“Hear them?”

I cringe in shock at Simon's bass voice. He's standing so close to me, wriggling his eyebrows like he knows something I don't. Maybe he's been here the whole time!

“What are you doing here?” I whisper-yelled at him. Christ, why is everyone around me so creepy, enjoying to sneak about without telling me anything. They never make a noise when they move but I pull down the whole house with just my footsteps. It's embarrassing but I try not to reflect on it.

He gives me a lopsided grin and poked my side. “You're not sleeping,”

“Because I'm eavesdropping.” I manage to keep my frustration down but then I realized how ridiculous I sounded. I'm supposed to be fast asleep in bed, not sneaking around. You'd think leaving with undercover parents would have thought me how to keep secrets and lie so damn well but I should have known nothing could be hidden from Simon. We've been best friends since babyhood and we're well acquainted with each other's traits.

He knows all of my secrets and emotions so well that sometimes I don't even bother voicing out my predicaments before he comes up with a solution for it. Last year when I'd kissed a boy in the bathroom stall at school and had been grinning foolishly all through English class he knew all about it. Same thing goes for when I get tangled up in a mess, perhaps a brawl with a bully or a guy who refuses to I leave me alone, Simon would come to my rescue and help fight my battles. From badass boys to snotty cheerleading girls, there was always someone Simon had to make known their place.

“They won't hear anything out here,” he shrugged. “Stop being so quiet.”

I want to risk another look at the stranger. He's piqued my interest and I don't feel any need telling this to Simon just yet. It could be the way he seems mysterious, or his mastery at keeping his lips a tight line, barring his emotions in for the whole world to wonder at. I don't miss the sadness in his eyes when they stare a little too longingly at me, so I intend reaching out to him, which of course as you might have guessed goes against everything my parents taught me.

“Take my advice James; Stick to the dicks at school.”

I roll my eyes at him. Well, no wonder his relationships don't survive a month. He's got such a big mouth and negativity towards love that I reckon he'd become a evangelist someday. That's the only way he'd be saved.

I feel my cheeks burn at the knowledge that he knows my real mission out here is to get a second glimpse at the man. Simon never condemned me for being gay but with him keeping up with my love life it's hard not to get embarrased. I've always been crazy about boys but the thing is my madness never lasts long. I crush on a guy today and it's all over to the next tomorrow. You could say I freak out when they tell me they like me back, my interest wanes and I begin to wonder what made me so stupid as to even glance at them in the first place.

“He's dangerous and rough, not the ideal guy you've always dreamed about. You deserve someone caring and gentle, not a ruffian.”

He's right. The man does seem rough and screams danger, but it's the kind of danger I don't want to stay away from. For some whacky reason, I feel he's mine. I don't know why this is but I'm convinced it's true.

“Oh boy,” he mumbles in defeat.

The door suddenly opens, taking us unaware and leading me to fall face flat on the floor. Mom looms over me, her arms crossed. “What are you both doing here?”

Before I could say anything, Simon blurts out. “We're staying up late so we'd study so we wanted to see your permission,”

Simon has always been the one to cover for us both. He's been that way forever while I'm normally the one who comes up with the ‘fantastic ideas’ that gets us in trouble, like eating out in a mall or spending money on ridiculous things such as bracelets, jewellery and glitter. Thanks to my innocent mouth we often get busted and Simon takes the blame. He hates seeing me being scolded.

A brother to me. One I never had.

He squeezed my hand, an indication that I should keep shut.

Mom's got her lips twisted into a funny smile, knowing a lot better than to believe him. My gaze lingers at the figure behind her. He's staring right at me. My heart begins to thud and thump harder as I realize I can't look away. Simon squeezed my hand again, a signal reminding me of how rude it is to stare. I sigh, reluctantly glancing away.

“Alright fine. Your Dad and I got to be at Las Vegas tomorrow so you boys have the whole house to yourselves after school. Make sure you don't keep Ryder waiting, James.”

“But I have a picnic planned,” I say with a pout.

I've been under close supervision ever since I sneaked away during school hours to have fun at the mall with Simon. I've had a couple of security guards before but none of them were so intense and dedicated as Ryder. He's also my driver and for some odd reason has made it his duty to turn my life into a bore.

My family mattered so much to me but all they ever do is keep me away from the ways of the world, shielding me from the danger out there. When I was twelve I rode bicycles with trainer wheels and Mom still fed me. I can't understand why I'm being spoiled so much. Simon's parents never act this way with him. I doubt they even know where he is right now. Everyone thinks I'm the one with a white heart who's too soft to be a man. Well, **** that idea I love who I am. Sure I might have been born a boy, I've never felt that way in my entire life. I've loved dancing, dressing fancy, flirting and makeup right from an early age. I also sing too, not minding I have a horrible voice that should be barred from use. Now, I'm adding a new addition to that list. Men. No more boys but huge scary tattoed men who made my toes curl.

“That's perfect! We just found you a new bodyguard.” Mom glances over her shoulder at him and my heart thumps louder. This can't be happening, I've never been this fortunate. His eyes are still on me but his face is devoid of any warmth. “James, this is Michael. I'm positive he's more alert than Ryder would ever be. So, you won't be able to do anything past his guard,”

Mom grins, and I bit my smile back at him. I should probably start getting used to his eyes because they won't be cast away from me anytime soon.

His eyes narrows at me.

“Yikes,” Simon muttered.

I rake a hand through my messy hair and tuck my knife into the strap at my ankle, concealing it with the leg of my trousers and then walk over to the closet to grab a tie.

It's been barely fifteen hours since I've moved into the guest apartment at the Hendersons. The place was a massive mansion in my opinion and there are two other bodyguards hired to cover the rest of the family but they mostly stay the night out with their families closeby.

The guest apartment is just a stone throw from the main house but was still private in all aspects. Normally, I don't move into the house owned by my employers but Mariah told me that I had to repay her for all she's done for me and this was the only way possible.

I was raised in Russia though I don't recall my town or village. I lived off the streets and laboured in warehouses as a young boy until I discovered some of the older boys wanted runners and were willing to offer up money for volunteers. I was an amateur at that time, still learning the ways of the world but I gave myself up because I needed the money to survive.

According to the old lady who picked me up from the gates of an orphanage just outside Moscow, my Mom had to throw me away because my father wanted nothing to do with us and she being in love with him had to give me up to please him. The old lady was the only family I knew of until her death and I was forced to run away instead of staying back at the orphanage. I did the work I could find and begged around.

I found a much better job delivering packages and when my employers trusted me with big deliveries, I made sure to turn down the money I got from the sales in all honesty. I was grateful to those who treated me like their own family but with time my compassion waned, my heart hardened and I started to lose myself.

Days became weeks and afterwards years when I finally joined the Russian underground mafia. The organization was well structured but equally dirty and as much as I tried my hands on dealing loyally to them, I still couldn't comply with some of the directives they gave. But they were my new family and it all comes down to survival.

Nothing ever lasts forever and soon, the mafia changed hands to a more ruthless government who demoted most high ranking men and in as much as everyone tried to belong to dry land, most still got pulled back into the raging sea. I didn't want to get demoted especially as members were being killed one by one. It became a tough game of survival, one wrong move and you lose your right to the world.

I had no problem dying. Nothing I owned seemed precious to me but I also knew it was time to get out and find my footing. Luckily, I received an order to go down to Boston and get a company which the Russian mafia had chosen to work with vetted. It was my perfect escape plan to get to somewhere safe. Not a land of lost dreams but a fresh start. I needed to rethink my choices all over again and all I ever asked for was a simple, comfortable life.

My name was among those struck out to be eliminated and it was staged to look like a fatal car accident, by my driver and assistant on my way to the company. They were people I trusted and eventually, they were killed weeks later for failure in executing my death.

I arrived Wisconsin with nothing but the suit I had on and a small phone. My findings proved that some of my loyal friends had known about the execution and had therefore swung into action to save me and get me across the border.

Alex Russo was waiting for me at a resort. We exchanged information and plans. He gave me a new passport and also a complimentary card.

“What's this for?”

“Work,” he shrugged, smirking as he packed up his briefcase.

“Is this a joke? I just escaped from death and you're placing me into another?” I fumed.

He held his hand up in surrender. “Hey, hey it's your choice if you want to take it, I'm simply offering you an opportunity. We'd never meet again after now,” I saw the truth in his eyes. “People need you. It doesn't have to be the mafia whom you must work for. The pay's better and should last you years if you choose to retire,”

Before crossing the border, I hadn't dwelt much upon what I wanted to do with my life after escaping. It'd always been finding a safe place first.

“Sleep over it, when you've made up your mind to work, give the number there a dial,”

I trace my fingertips over the boldly written Mariah Henderson on the top centre, a number below it. I never planned to play security or watching over anyone. I preferred keeping things simple but saying no was totally out of the question.

So I take up the position working for Petrakis Corp and snooping about, sniffing into the private lives of rival bosses and reporting my discoveries to my employers. It's completely legal and I have nothing to fear of. My isolation bared at me and loneliness crept up faster than daylight.

A part of my life was missing and until I found out what exactly it is, I'm doomed to remain like this, no real family or friends, no one to confide in, relatives to spend the holidays with or girlfriends to shop with too. I craved something unknown, deep down in my soul, I knew just what it was.

When I wrote to Mariah, asking if I could resign, she was all for it. According to her I'd worked hard enough for them and deserved rest. They scheduled a replacement to fill in my position but I was a bit sad to let my job go. Much to my relief, Mariah sent me a text the next day stating I had one last offer to complete and after that, I'd be free.

Mariah and Blake were kind-hearted employers who I'd met severally. We shared a cordial bond though I hardly visit them and long hours were spent talking business behind office doors. They travelled together and had their love going strong like newlywed couples. Sometimes I choose to drone out whenever they get all lovey-dovey with each other. It was difficult glimpsing at something you're sure you'd never have so most times I'd excuse myself out of their presence, not bothering to imagine that sort of affection for myself. I needed someone who desired me, someone who'd love me for real. Soft-spoken and delicate.

I took up the offer which surprisingly enough was so simple. The deal was to protect their one and only son. Travelling back to the States was something I'd thought of often but never acted on and now I was living off my dreams. I tighten the knot, dusted my shirt for lines and ambled out the door outside, into the darkness of the sidewalk that separates the guest apartment for the main house. In our contract, it was agreed I'd stay here till James decided on which college he'd like to study in. Drawing close to the patio doors, I stare at him at the farthest end of the room from my position outside the window. He was dancing, yipping wildly about without a care in the world, his blonde hair falling back from his blue powerful eyes. As if reading my thoughts, he stops swiftly and swivels around to lock eyes with me. His eyes held all the innocence I'll ever see, igniting something shocking within.

A chill sweeps all over me and I feel my chest loosen up to embrace warmth. It's exactly like the first time we saw each other.

One look was all it took.

“No..no James please don't go,” Simon cries out as he stirs beside me, causing me to take a peek up at him. He jerked out of his slumber immediately.

“Simon?”

He's sweating and panting, hot sweat dripping off his chin onto the sheets, soaking them. I sat up and pulled him closer. “What's wrong? Had a bad dream?”

He nodded, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly. “I dreamt about a monster chasing us both and I fell behind to help you out when he was close to you. It felt so real,”

“Well, serves you right for watching those movies last night. Now you'd listen a little more when I warn you next time. Let's go get you a glass of water and some breakfast,”

“Ugh, Physics for the first period. Damn, Miss Clair knows how to spoil a good day,” he groans, curling under the sheets once more. I'm not surprised, Simon hates Physics. If he could get out each day on Calculus, he'd be golden. I hated every science subject too, choosing to stick closer to the arts and achieve my law dreams someday.

“Quit whining and tell me what you'd like to have,” I stand, slipping my cold toes into the rubber ducky slippers beneath my bed. I've been making breakfast for the whole family for as long as I can talk. Mom was once a devoted culinary chef and while I was still a toddler she always brought me into the kitchen with her. That's how I fell in love with cooking.

“Aww, anything?” he smiles cheekily, wriggling his brows.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah sure, anything apart from scrambled eggs.”

He pouts at this. “That's not fair — ”

“Get ready,” I grin deviously, jamming the door hard behind me as I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen. I got lunch started afterwards, packing it up for us all. Today we're having Tuna sandwiches with sardined bread slices.

“Son,” Dad beams at me at the doorway, stepping into the room and pulled my forehead down for a peck.

“Pancakes and maple today Dad. Also, scrambled eggs in the pan in case you want some,” I hand him his plate and he heads into the dining area. He starts digging in when Mom walks into the kitchen and kisses me on the top of my head in the passing. I heard a chair screech backwards and vicious lips smacking. Cringing, I focus on the lunch I'm packing.

I'd be lying if I said it didn't irk me whenever they got like this but it's been destined to be this way for the both of them to live the rest of their lives loving each other. They're perfect for each other and such show of affection left me envious. I'm still hopeful on love and as if on cue the image of Michael's deep dark eyes flashed through my mind as well as the guilty moments I'd fantasized about him after lights out. I pictured him on top of me biting that tender spot between my neck and body and another of him thrusting hard inside me as I moaned out his name while tracing my fingertips over his belly muscles.

It's a good thing Dad and Mom decided to eat in the dining otherwise they'd have seen my heated face.

“Snap out of it,”

I freeze, not noticing when Simon walked into the kitchen. He's got his mouth full with eggs while his eyes are fixed on my every move.

“Isn't it Physics in ten minutes? What are you still doing here?” I glare at him, handing his lunch to him. It's a miracle if the sandwiches survive the car drive to school.

“Observing you,” he winks, and I have to bite back my groan. He takes the paper bag from me, waved me goodbye after alerting my parents of his leave and whizzed out the door.

“Where's he off to this early?” Mom asks and I reply slowly, bacon between my teeth.

“Physics,” I managed.

“Ah, he's such a bright lad then.” Dad and Mom see Simon as some genius or a demigod for sticking close to science. Everyone knew it wasn't that easy, and it needed a lot of devotion and extra effort to make the cut yet Simon succeeds in getting straight A's every time. I've always wondered the magic he performed because it's obvious he doesn't read before tests or exams. Due to this, my parents were supportive of our friendship as they are assertive that I'd learn one or two things from him. They gave me a long leash ever since I crossed eighteen with Simon having to fight off Mark who tried to sexually molest me at homecoming. That was the peak of our freedom.

If Michael was the one Simon punched, I'm doubly sure he'd just laugh it off and still do what he wants to do, unlike Mark who steered clear from anything about me from that day onward. Rumour had it that he cried and felt bad for his misconduct but I knew who I was dealing with here. Mark never feels sorry for anything and if it weren't for Simon, I'd spend my days staying in the locker room and trying to hide my bruises.

“We won't make it back on time tonight dear,” Mom protrudes into my train of thoughts. She navigates around the kitchen island, gently placing her plate in the sink. “That was a lovely meal,”

“You won't be back for dinner? Are you travelling or what?”

“It's all business hon, your Dad and I will be very busy from now on but don't you worry. All I need you to do is study and look after yourself,”

Dad walks in to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I can't wait to taste your cooking again. That was delicious.” he smacked his lips in pleasure.

My Dad wasn't pleased to see me treasure cooking at an early age. He'd tell Mom over and over how wrong it was to let boys into the kitchen. With time, my cooking grew on him. He began to look forward to each meal I'll cook and I love it.

“For your Dad's sake, I'm sure we'll dash home faster,” Mom reaches out to pinch my cheeks. “Please James, don't creep the new guy out. It was so difficult finding someone like him. I hope you understand?”

“Mom, I'm gonna do nothing,” I reassure her, turning on the dishwasher. Seriously, what haven't I contemplated doing already? I had a nice dream of him last night, fantasized about us having sex and lots of kisses, longing to kiss those tattoos... I'm no saint.

“You'd be under tough surveillance and I want you to make this work,” Dad beams at me. “Your Mom and I don't want anything ugly happening to you,”

“Alright, alright I'll cooperate. You both need to get to work,” I hold up their paper bags as Mom kisses my forehead again before they left the kitchen. I sigh as they leave, turning to pick on my eggs.

I press the play button to my music player and instead of eating, began to dance. I shook my body wildly, wanting to forget everything about last night and purge my mind from thoughts about Michael. He's supposed to be around somewhere. As I realize this, my body jolts and by some instinct, I reluctantly dart my eyes out the kitchen window to lock with dark ones.

Michael stood over the window, staring at me without a solid expression.

I struggle to catch my breath and calm my racing heart as our eyes linger on each other. I'm too mortified to move on r look away as I scan his dressing. He's on blue trousers, a white shirt which mirrored his hard rock body and a matching red tie.

I stay still as he began to move slowly towards me, his long thick legs zipping up the distance between us. He stops at the double glass doors, pausing to draw them apart and slip right in.

I take a sharp breath intake as the door screeches to a close with him leaning on it. We stay there for what seemed like hours till I finally found enough guts to speak. “I made pancakes. You can have them with the maple syrup over there,” I babble, pointing at the plate on the countertop. Of course, I included his stomach, he's my bodyguard after all. His duty was to protect him while mine was to ensure he's working on a full stomach.

“You cooked for me,” his brows drew up into a thin line in the middle, confusion etched. I've never heard him say anything so it's amazing how I detect a strong Russian accent. His voice is the deepest baritone I've ever heard.

“I cook for everyone around here,” I nod, not trusting myself to look up and not do anything stupid. Jeez, what's gotten into me today? How can he have me wrapped around his fingers in less than a week he's been here?

I've never felt an attraction for anyone. No one at all.

I feel more than heard him walk farther into the room towards me as I set his plate on the kitchen island. Upon turning, I'm overwhelmed by how dangerously close he is. Our eyes lock once again.

“I'm sorry if the eggs aren't enough. My best friend has a rather unhealthy addiction to them,” I breathe out evenly, more like in chaos. His face is expressionless, scaring me the more.

He grabbed the plate and sets it beside him on the countertop, his eyes never leaving me, neither does he moves. “It's fine. I'm satisfied with whatever quantity you choose to serve me,”

I immediately feel bad for him but that doesn't dissuade the warmth crawling up my neck from pouring out on both cheeks. I don't want to think too much into what he just said but it seems he reads me too well. I can't take this much longer.

I began cleaning up to distract myself but he pulls out a hand, stopping me. “Leave it. I'll do the dishes,”

I'm should say something because we already have three men whose duty was to clean up the dining and wash up the glassware after meals. Maybe he feels letting him clean was the only way to repay me for cooking for him. “You should start getting dressed for school,” he checks me over as embarrassment rises behind my ear. I look down at my attire and regret ever stepping out of my room. I'm on an oversized shirt with shorts too small to cover even my high thighs. What other news than how transparent the shorts are, it's like I'm practically *****, waist downwards.

“A-a-alright!” I say, turning to leave but he grips my wrist in an instant, pulling me closer to him. I'm rooted, standing so close enough to smell his manly scent of musk and aloe. His dark eyes glitter down at me and I instantly know what it is he needs. “Do you wear shorts all the time?” his husky voice is deep and sensual.

I wet my bottom lip, willing him to kiss me or better, hold my lip between his teeth. His question is although stupid, happens to be my means of starting something.

“Why don't you find out for yourself,” I pull away and move straight to the stairs, the image of his glittery eyes filled with desire forever burned into my memory.