Damon Shield used to be a party boy. That was before he got kidnapped by a weird cult, though. Even though he was rescued, he’s been in a funk ever since. When he starts getting texts from his kidnapper, he doesn’t tell anyone, especially not his very sexy bodyguard. He knows he screwed up and made the man a target somehow.
Mikkel Alvarez met the love of his life when he was still a young guy barely out of basic training. His lover died serving his country and he still isn’t ready to move on with his romantic life, even though several years have passed. Damon has been the first man since his lover passed to get under Mikkel’s skin. Not that he’s going to do anything about it.
Damon Shield was not the sit-at-home type. He didn’t enjoy watching television. Instead of watching Dancing with the Stars, he would rather be dancing at a club. And he could only look at Mikkel Alvarez, the great big boner-inducing hottie that was his bodyguard, for so long before his balls felt like they were going to fall off from being under used.
Damon stood in front of the mirror and admired his new hair color. Blond was so him, much better than the brown he’d been sporting for so long. Plus, with the emails and letters that still came to him on a daily basis, he thought the change just might be practical.
Not that he actually read the letters or emails anymore. He vehemently refused to do so, and no amount of talking on Mikkel’s part changed his mind. He didn’t want to be reminded of the shit storm his life had become. Ignorance was bliss, right?
Damon came out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He stood in front of Mikkel, who planted himself by the front door of Damon’s apartment with his arms folded in front of his chest. Mikkel would stand just like that all day long, like a sentry guarding the king. In Damon’s case that was queen, thanks very much.
Damon was relatively similar in height to Mikkel, maybe an inch or two shorter, if that. Damon was much thinner, though, lean compared to Mikkel, whose arms were bigger around than Damon’s thighs.
“What do you think?” Damon asked, shaking his head a little. His hair had gotten longer then he normally kept it. It curled just slightly at the ends and gave him a younger appearance than his twenty-four years. Couple the length with the color, and he was any hot porn daddy’s wet dream. Honestly, he hoped that when he was able to go back to work they would pair him with someone who looked like Mikkel. At least then he could fantasize.
As of yet, the studio said they didn’t want the drama. The death threats were affecting their download sales, and until that went away, he was to stay away. After several years in the business, he was ready for a break anyway.
“I don’t have an opinion.” Mikkel’s Spanish accent got even more pronounced sometimes, like right then.
Mikkel had such a hard shell around him, and Damon was having a hard time cracking it. He vowed to do it though, mostly because it was fun to try, but also because Mikkel was the first man to truly hold his interest for longer than one night. He wanted to know what made the man tick.
He could see himself dating Mikkel. If the man actually gave him the time of day, which he didn’t.
“Well, do you like it, at least?” Damon turned around once.
“I have no opinion on your hair.” Mikkel didn’t even glance in his direction.
“Would you at least look at it?” Damon had his hands on his hips.
Mikkel looked at him then, right in the eyes. “No opinion.”
“Ugh, I give up on you,” he said, throwing his hands up as he left the room. “You are so annoying. Hot as fuck, but annoying,” he yelled from his bedroom.
Damon took his time getting dressed. For some reason he thought about Mikkel as he was picking out the right shirt to wear. He put on a pair of tight white capris that showcased his ass to perfection.
Damon left the bedroom and wandered into the kitchen. He got a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He needed time to think about his escape plan.
Damon was going crazy sitting in his apartment, day in and day out. He needed to get out, if for no other reason than to save his sanity.
He put his water bottle down on the counter and made his way out of the room to the living room. He ran a finger across the wall absently while he came up with a plan of attack. The closer he got to Mikkel and where he stood against the wall the more he chuckled to himself. He ran his finger across Mikkel’s chest and stopped in the center of it.
He looked up through his lashes. “I’m bored. Aren’t you bored all day long—just standing here?”
“No,” Mikkel said with that same stoic look on his face.
“I think you’re lying.” Damon bit his bottom lip.
“I have no reason to lie,” Mikkel said, still not looking his way.
This simply would not do. Damon went into the kitchen and to the table in the center of the room. He picked up a chair and walked back out of the room with it, set it down a couple feet from Mikkel, and sat on it. He crossed his legs and waited. For what, he didn’t know, but he figured it would come to him.
“Are you always like this?” he asked after several minutes of Damon staring at him and Mikkel pretending to ignore him.
“Like a... a... a robot that just recites things.”