✥ The Rich Girl & Her Bodyguard ✥
Blaise Inocencio, the daughter to a well-known politician, inherits the fear of being killed when she receives a threat after the assassination of her father. The constant fear of being killed only intensifies when...
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Blaise stirred her eyes open as she quickly came to the realization that she had been in the bath tub for a long period as the cold temperature of the water was evidence to her hypothesis. She slowly lifted herself up from the bowl of water and grabbed the towel that she had grabbed for herself earlier from the laundry room.
The excess water rolled off her onto the marble flooring beneath her while she stood there wrapped in now the drenched towel. Carelessly, Blaise went on walking on the now soaking floor only to feel herself glide backwards as the balance weighed on one side her more than the other.
Panic filled her which was immediately substituted with relief as she never made contact with the hard surface. Blaise slowly reopened her eyes and realized the situation she had oddly once again placed herself into.
"You're too clumsy for your own good." His remark wasn't an insult, but rather an sentence he rather found amusing. Blaise quickly recovered herself by pulling away from his now soaking shirt. The tattoos that were so intricately printed onto his skin were on clear display for her to admire much like a art museum that displayed nude imagery in the most erotic way possible. Or as if Picasso himself had gotten drunk and painted on this fine specimen's body.
"I get it from my mom." That is all Blaise said before she walked around him to her closet before the situation got any more uncomfortable.
"I didn't mean to barge in like that, but the fact you were in here for over an hour was quite concerning to me." He contoured as he knew what was gearing in her mind like a machine factory.
"I'm sorry." Blaise didn't know why she had apologized or even what she had apologized for, but for some reason it just felt right at the very moment.
Blaise rummaged through her drawers filled with a variety of bottoms, but she couldn't settle on even one pair of pants or sweats that seemed appealing in the scorching heat that had built in between her thighs. She finally decided on a creme color skirt that would only reach her mid thigh, but it didn't seem as a bad idea actually it was quite an appealing one instead.
"You know what they say about skirts?" She instantly flinched as she heard Octavio from the entrance of the closet. She hadn't expected him to stick around once she had pulled the stunt of apologizing to him and making the situation a whole lot peculiar in a way. Not knowing how to answer without it coming out as another unneeded response, Blaise just hummed in response. But, before he could finish his train of thought, the sound of a phone ringing filled the tensed air.
She instantly recognized the tune of the ringtone as it was the same one that had played out in the hospital the other day. Octavio gave Blaise one last look that determined her that he was far from done with what his train of thought was. She was only left to predict what ran through his mind 24/7, but it was beyond her knowledge to figure the real answer to that or even a close one in that reason.
