Hidden Kisses {Erotica 18+}

1. Just Jack

{K}

"Look, Miss Mason, whether you like it or not, recent events show that you require a bodyguard." Peter, my manager, sighs.

"I can look after myself! It's not my fault that man tried to attack me, is it?" I snap, fishing my umbrella from my handbag. It's one of those unfortunate LA afternoons where the sky is as grey as the pavement and the heavy rain feels like slivers of ice.

Peter takes out his phone. "Having a bodyguard doesn't affect that fact. It just prevents disrespectful assholes from attacking or making a move on you. Our only priority is your safety, Kyla, you know that."

"Don't 'Kyla' me, Peter," I reply moodily, glaring at him through my sunglasses. "I suppose it wouldn't make much difference. I have plenty of spare rooms in my house anyway, and at least I might feel a little more safe." Peter grins and brings his phone up to his ear.

"Hello, this is Peter Clark speaking. Yes. Mhm. She agreed. Okay. Seven? Yes, thank you, good bye!" Peter pauses, ending the call and turning to me. "Right, the bodyguard will meet us at seven o' clock this evening at Les Étoiles."

I raise an eyebrow. "I suppose I have no choice now, then?"

Peter grins and shakes his head. "Unfortunately I must leave you now, Miss M. I shall see you at seven." He takes my gloved hand and kisses it lightly, before turning on his heels and marching back down the street. A couple of weeks ago the press decided Peter and I were dating. As if! He's a good manager, and I suppose a helpful friend, but he's as gay as is humanly possible and probably the most irritating person I have ever met- and I've met a lot of people.

I get into the car that has been waiting for me. "Good afternoon, Jefferey." I politely greet my driver.

"Afternoon, Miss M." He replies. He begins the smooth drive back to my swish mansion, and I close my eyes and listen to the gentle, ambient rain.

{J}

I adjust the collar of my black uniform shirt, staring uneasily at the entrance to the most expensive looking restaurant I've ever seen. I take a deep breath, shifting my belt around so my gun doesn't dig into my leg, and go inside.

"Good evening sir. Table for one?" A polite receptionist asks.

"Er no.. I'm here to meet Miss Mason?" I reply awkwardly.

"Do you have your pass, sir?" She questions suspiciously. I hand it to her and she nods and ushers me through to a glass booth overlooking the rest of the restaurant. I thank the receptionist and attempt to saunter over to Miss Kyla Mason. She's sat with her manager, Peter. I knew him from college and he specifically put me on the job.

"Hey." I say, smiling. She doesn't look up. Peter gets up and shakes my hand warmly.

"I'm so glad you could make it, it's great to see you again!" He says welcomingly.

"Thanks," I tell him, turning to her. She's wearing a glamorous tight, black sequinned dress and a cream button-less blazer that hugs her curves. She looks amazing. I offer my hand. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Jack."

She finally looks up at me. Her facial expression is blank. "Just Jack?" She deadpans, raising an eyebrow. I think I'm going to have to be a bit more assertive; she intimidates me much more than she should. I slide into the seat opposite and grin slightly.

"Yes, Miss Kyla. Just Jack." I stare at her and she eventually looks away. For a second her cheeks look a little flushed, but perhaps it's just the lighting.

{K}

I've never seen anyone like him. His shirt is tight on his masculine build, and his face is sharp but kind. His hair is dark blonde and unruly, but cut neatly and gelled into place. My name sounds different in his deep, husky voice- mysterious somehow. It astounds me so much that I don't correct him, and I feel heat rise to my cheeks so I look away shyly.

"Do you like the view?" Peter asks him. He nods, gazing out of the glass walls down onto the people below. He looks mesmerised, and so, so attractive. I look down at my menu, determined not to get distracted and end up letting my guard down.

"How come we're up here?" He questions Peter. I assume he's looking at Peter but somehow I sense his gaze on me. I find myself speaking.

"It's hidden away. No hassle from fans or anything. Nobody knows we're up here." I force myself to sigh, mimicking disinterest and pretending to be engrossed in my menu. A blonde waitress glides towards us, smiling. He turns to her, and I watch him carefully, expecting him to give her the eye. Instead, he just smiles warmly, which takes me by surprise.

"What can I get for y'all?" She asks, holding her pen over her notepad expectantly.

"I'll have Spaghetti Carbonara and a glass of water, please." I reply, trying not to notice that he's still looking at her.

"Seafood platter and a glass of red wine, thank you." Peter says distractedly, busy texting.

"The same as Miss Kyla, except with white wine instead, please." Jack says, turning back to me. I look up at him and raise an eyebrow, then get up from my seat.

"Miss M?" Peter says, looking up.

"I need to go to the ladies room." I hiss at him, shuffling awkwardly out of the booth. I recollect myself and maintain grace and poise until I'm halfway to the bathroom, at which point my ankle twists in my stilettos and I almost fall. Flustered and frustrated I turn back expecting Jack to be laughing at me, but he's not even looking, and for some reason this disappoints me somewhat.

In the bathroom mirror I reapply my nude Dior lipstick and blot my foundation, leaning in to examine my appearance. I remember the way Vogue wrote about me back in August- "a woman so full of elegance and mystery". I look professional, expensive and put together, and am thankful that my appearance now differs to my eternal expectations to see the freckly, awkward teenage girl I once was every time I look in the mirror.

I may still feel as though I am her on the inside, but my exterior hides it well.