His Protection

7. aftermath

I heard a rustling. Immediately my head shot up. I grabbed my holster and unclicked the strap. I grabbed hold of my gun and stealthily made my way to the window. I hid behind the curtains and peered out of the window. Only to see a bush whipping around in the wind and occasionally tapping against the window. 

I re-adjusted my holster and groaned in into my hands. For fuck's sake. I needed to chill and not be strung so tight just for a little while. I decided to sweep the room again to be on the safe side. I couldn't let what had happened get in the way and make me complacent or sloppy. But my nerves were shot. I was so fucking on edge because I knew what had happened was wrong and so fucking my fault for letting it happen. 

How the fuck could I let a client make me lose focus? I should have stopped it last night when he pulled me into those strong arms. The fact that just re-imagining him holding me in his arms was making me hot was fucking ridiculous.

Right at that very moment Vince walked out of the shower, topless with sweatpants on. FUCK. My gaze followed the droplets of water falling down from his neck as it dripped down to his waist.

My eyes reached the waist band of his sweats as the drops disappeared behind there. I gulped my eyes travelling back up his muscled abdomen and connecting with his eyes. Fuck. The intensity was too much of looking into those grey irises. They were alive, more than they had ever been, and I think it was because of what we did last night. 

I looked down suddenly to his feet that were frozen on the floor in front of me, suddenly feeling very hot. My breaths were coming in short spurts as I couldn't pull oxygen into my body fast enough. Between the intensity in his eyes, the knowledge of what we had done last night never leaving my mind, and this pretty small motel room I was feeling trapped. I got up immediately and started to walk towards the window checking the street again. 

Sweat beads formed on my hairline because I knew I was looking at the street but my eyes could not actually see anything on it because it was too busy replaying what had happened last night. I screwed my eyes shut to try and force the images away but to no avail. HOW FUCKING USELESS AM I IF I CAN'T EVEN DO MY JOB?! 

I forced my eyes open again and shook my head in an attempt to shake the images lingering in my conscious away, and focussed my eyes on the street and checking. I checked the rest of the motel room again taking my time and double checking all at the same time to make sure I wouldn't miss anything. The door, the windows, under the bed, in the drawers. 

But I was still strung too tight, even tighter than I was before. So the only solution that could come into my mind to allow me a physical reprieve to exert this all; was training Vince for more self-defence. Doubt started infiltrating my mind, what if he used my moves against me? At least this proved my brain wasn't all gone, some part of it was still thinking on alert even if it was a miniscule piece. My doubt was abated by my mind responding that even if he tried to use my moves against me, I was taught to use my opponent against themselves. Let them have their move and respond to that instead of the same standardised 'moves' to guarantee the odds were in my favour. 

As I relied on what had been ingrained in me and had chosen to resurface only now, I was glad it pushed through my murky thoughts and came to the forefront of my mind. It gave me a moment of peace in all this unrest tumbling through me. 

With renewed purpose and the knowledge that I hadn't completely lost my mind, I strode with purpose to Vince's room and knocked twice on the closed door with no hesitation. He swung it open not even two seconds later. His intensely-focussed-on-me grey eyes darted between mine and I attempted to mask all the confusion and murky thoughts in mine with my professional tone "Come outside in two minutes. More self-defence practice" and with that I turned on my heel and didn't even wait to hear his response. I began vigorously forcing furniture out of its normal place with more force than necessary to get rid of all this tension that was coursing through my body. The furniture squeaked with how hard I was pushing it all of a sudden.