Her Lion Protectors Read online

“You were right,” I mumbled through a mouthful of pancake.

  “So, am I forgiven?”

  I giggled and nodded. “Just make sure you don’t do it again,” I warned, and he inclined his head. Conversation faded for a little bit as we tucked into our meals, but it soon rose again. I slowed down, because the pancakes were already filling my little belly, and the sugar rush was overwhelming. I had to set my fork down and take a break. Dalton, on the other hand, was demolishing his stack. Seeing he and Rick come into this place must have been a sight to behold.

  “What made you become bouncers? I’m assuming that you and Rick started together?”

  “We did indeed,” Dalton nodded. “I know it’s not a very glamorous job and it probably seems pretty basic compared to something like working in an office, but we have a certain set of skills and we like to put them to good use. Plus we don’t have to take our work home with us and it affords us a certain amount of autonomy.”

  “The hours must be rough though.”

  Dalton shrugged. “It took a bit of adjustment, at first, but we got used to it. The pay isn’t great either, but it gives us a little role in the city and we can afford to do everything we like to do, so, all in all, we’re pretty happy.”

  “And what do you like doing in your spare time?”

  “Obviously, I spend a lot of time at the gym, but I also like going to the movies. I like camping as well. Rick and I tend to go away a lot. It’s nice to escape the city and be around nature for a little while. Life seems so much simpler when you’re away from the world.”

  “I can imagine. I’ve never been camping.”

  Dalton dropped his fork and leaned forward. Apparently, what I’d said was the most shocking thing he’d ever heard.

  “No way! You’ve never been camping?”

  “Actually…I’ve never left the city.”

  Dalton leaned back, and threw his head back, shaking it widely. “This isn’t possible. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “It’s never really appealed to me. I mean, giving up all of my creature comforts? It’s just…I don’t think I’m made for that world.”

  “You don’t know, until you’ve tried. I’m really surprised. Most people usually go camping when they’re kids, at least once.”

  “I never had what you would call a typical childhood,” I said, unable to hide the bitterness from my voice.

  “Oh?”

  I sighed and poked my fork into a blueberry. I hated talking about my childhood and I rarely broached the subject with anyone. Only Jennifer knew the full extent of what I had gone through. Not even Andy knew it all, but that was mostly because he didn’t seem to care all that much, rather than due to any reticence on my part. Dalton seemed to be interested though, and there was a part of me that deeply wanted to tell him.

  “My parents weren’t very traditional people. They considered themselves very intellectual and philosophical, so they liked exploring high-minded concepts about the world and didn’t really seem to want to engage in society, as it existed at the time.”

  “So they were radical and rejected the rules of society?”

  “Exactly, at least, that’s how they always liked to think of themselves. When it came down to it, they were really just idiots, who were so locked to their ideals and being different, they couldn’t see how it was really affecting us. My Mom was an artist and my Dad did some freelance writing. He always said he was going to write the great novel, but that his ideas were just too big to get down on paper, so he never finished a story by himself. He only ever wrote what other people assigned to him, and he grumbled about it all the time. We never had much money and they always said we never needed much. But that meant we never really went anywhere or did anything fun. Mom and Dad used to say that I never needed anything other than my imagination to have a good time, and I always hated them for saying that.

  I went to school, but I couldn’t connect with anyone, because I never knew what they were talking about. I also had tattered clothes and shoes, and I always looked at the other kids with envy. It wasn’t because of what they were wearing, or that they always came into school talking about the fun things they’d done over the weekend, or the cartoons they’d watched, but it was because I wanted my parents to be more like their parents. There’s always that funny moment as a child, isn’t there, when you start to realize that maybe your parents don’t know best, but you can’t do anything about it because you’re just a kid?

  Anyway, so I was a lonely child and I didn’t have much of anything else to play with, other than my imagination, so that’s what I used. It wasn’t until I started getting a little bit of pocket money, that I was able to go and spend it on cinema tickets. I used to go there every Sunday afternoon, when it was cheapest, and watch all the old movies. Usually it was just me, there with a load of other people. There weren’t many kids who wanted to go and see black and white films with people who talked funny on the screen, but I went to see them as much as I could, because it was my escape. It was the one time of the week when I felt like I belonged, and I felt as though the people on the screen were talking directly to me. That’s why I like movies so much and, I just…I always wished that I could live in a movie, because everything seemed so much simpler.”

  “I guess I can understand that. What happened with your parents? Are they still around?”

  “They are, but I don’t see them much anymore. Dad did one article for someone and he started to get obsessed with it, so much so that he couldn’t concentrate on anything else, and Mom’s work wasn’t enough to pay for everything. Dad was too stubborn to get another job, and to this day I’ve never understood why, but they decided that their time in the city was at an end. Thankfully, by this point I was old enough to get a job myself, so I said goodbye to them and sent them on their merry way. I haven’t seen them in years.”

  “Don’t you miss them?”

  “Sometimes, but a lot of the time they were more trouble than they were worth. I guess, I learned that not everyone is made to live in this world, and it’s better that they get to pursue their own interests, rather than being boxed into somewhere they don’t fit. I do get letters from them, from time to time. Last I heard, they were living in some commune, somewhere. They keep saying I should visit but…I don’t know…”

  “It might do you some good to see them, now that you’re not a child anymore. It’s impressive that you’ve done so well for yourself, when you haven’t had them for support. You should take great pride in that.”

  I barked out a laugh. “I wish I could take all the credit, but it’s not really that impressive. There was this man, Andy. I met him not long after my parents left. I was feeling lonely and isolated, and I guess I just wanted to feel like I was a part of the world again, just like I’d always wanted. I was desperate to be a part of a group and to share things with people, so maybe I was a bit naïve and rushed into it.”

  “I take it things didn’t work out?”

  “Not exactly, he….well, things were good in the beginning, but, over time, he started to reveal his true nature. Have you ever been with someone who hasn’t been who they said they were? That’s what it was like…over time, I just looked at him and I wondered who he’d been all this time. Then he started to get rough with me. He grabbed me and dragged me around the place, and he belittled me.” My words choked and I wiped a tear away from my eye. “Sorry, it’s just…I don’t like talking about it.”

  “It’s okay. Would you like me to find him and kill him?”

  For a moment I thought Dalton was serious, but then I saw the twinkle in his eyes.

  “No, I don’t think that will be necessary,” I smirked. “I just hate that I almost made the same mistake with Howie. Sometimes, I wish that when you met someone you could tell what they were hiding. It would make things a whole lot easier.”

  Dalton nodded and took another huge mouthful of pancakes. “It might, but then dating would lose a lot o
f the excitement around it.” His eyebrows twitched. His words were warm and embracing, and I wondered if he was flirting with me. It had been a long time since this had happened (I didn’t consider what had happened with Howie to be flirting) so I wasn’t sure how to react, but I did feel heat spread on the back of my neck and down the middle of my body.

  Dalton glanced down at his watch and grimaced. “Sheesh, that went way too quickly. Listen, I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ve really enjoyed tonight. I’d like to see you again, but somewhere away from the club so that I don’t have to be distracted. We could go and see a movie, if you can find anything good on.”

  “Um, sure, that would be great,” I said, and we exchanged numbers. Sometimes dating felt like swimming through murky waters with threats lurking nearby, sometimes even a hair’s breadth away, but other times it was a pleasant stroll through an open field on a summer’s day. Dalton was straightforward, uncomplicated, and the more I got to know him, the more I suspected he was exactly what I needed. And I wasn’t getting into anything serious. It was just a date, just going to the cinema with someone who had captured my attention.

  We walked out of the diner and I decided not to return to the Blue Lagoon. The crowd that had been outside the diner when we entered had disappeared, so we had the sidewalk to ourselves. The faint neon glow from the diner’s sign bathed us in its lukewarm yellow light and I saw sparkles inside Dalton’s eyes.

  “You see,” he said, “this moment would be much more romantic if we weren’t in the city.” His voice was soft and low. “You can’t even see the stars.”

  “There’s that one, and that one,” I said, pointing to the faint dots of light that were just about visible against the backdrop of the city. Then, I noticed that one of them was moving. It had been a plane.

  “That’s nothing compared to what you see out in nature. I’ll show you, one day,” he said. Then, he slipped his arms around my waist where they rested against the small of my back and he pressed his lips against my cheek. A soft moan escaped my lips as I felt the comfort of his warmth surround me, and then, all too soon, he released me and the coolness of the night washed over my body again. He smiled and we walked in our opposite directions. I didn’t know if this was true about him too, but I had a smile on my face.

  Chapter Six

  My mind was alive when I returned home and I knew I wasn’t going to get to sleep for hours. There was still much about Dalton that I didn’t know, but the mystery was, indeed, a little fun, as he had intimated and I was looking forward to getting to know him better. He definitely had layers to him and, aside from the small transgression when I’d entered the Blue Lagoon, he had said and done all the right things. A smile played upon my lips when I thought about the brief time we’d spent together and I couldn’t wait to see him again. I checked the listings as soon as I got home and saw that there was a showing of Amélie on at the Patchwork Theatre, although I wasn’t going to text him that now, because it was late, he was still working, and I didn’t want to come across as too eager.

  I was filled with the kind of ache that came from the promise of a new romance, the hope that it would unfold exactly as expected, the knowledge that it likely wouldn’t, and the fear that it would go the opposite direction and this exhilaration would be for nothing. I still found it difficult to believe that a man like Dalton was interested in me. Part of the reason why I had a…unique taste in men, as Jennifer would have put it, was because I didn’t think most regular guys would be interested in a girl like me. I wasn’t like other girls, and not in the way that the pumpkin spiced latte, Ugg-wearing crowd would be. I just didn’t fit in, I didn’t get on with most people easily, and if I had to describe myself, I’d say that I was an acquired taste. But, for some reason, Dalton didn’t feel the same way and I started to think that maybe I could be a part of what I considered to be a normal relationship.

  I peeled away my clothes and looked at myself in the mirror, running my hands down my body. I unclasped my bra and let it fall away. I wasn’t in the best shape, certainly not like Dalton, but I had been blessed with some good genes and I watched my diet, so I retained a slender figure, with curves in all the right places. I ran my hands over my breasts and I thought about the feeling of being so close to Dalton. Suddenly my mind wandered and my eyes fluttered shut as warmth blossomed inside me. It started in the pit of my stomach and then spread out all around, right to the tips of my fingers and toes. I was shocked by how intense it became and my knees trembled with weakness. I moved to my bed and threw myself down, writhing in delight as I thought about the way Dalton’s hands felt upon me, about his hot breath caressing my cheek as he kissed me, and about how I wanted more.

  I imagined us standing in a field together, our naked bodies pressed against each other with nothing between us but the night air. I imagined us exploring each others’ bodies, my hands running over his sculpted body, squeezing the taut skin, feeling the bulging muscles within, while Dalton took me and held me tightly, protecting me, loving me, making my body his own. The thoughts coalesced into a hazy miasma that gripped my mind and my body. My lips parted and my breath spilled out. My heart hammered in my chest and I felt sweat prickle against my temples.

  The window was open a crack so a cool breeze wafted in, but it did nothing to calm the heat that blazed inside me. I raised my leg and dragged my fingers all over my thighs, and breasts, and neck and, as I did so, my hands became his hands. My imagination was so powerful, in that moment, that I could almost feel his presence on top of me, the heat of his body scalding mine, the intense passion simmering between us. I threw my head back and moaned loudly as my entire body arched. My hands slid down to the delta in between my thighs and felt the rough hair, soaked in warmth. My head twisted to the side as small squeaking yelps broke the silence of my bedroom. My toes curled and my feet pushed against the bed sheets. My fingers reached inside me, teasing myself as I felt a rippling, crackling sensation sweeping throughout my entire body.

  It was exhilarating, and soon enough, I was caught up in the chaotic mess of pleasure. Thunder rumbled deep inside of me and lightning flashed, making me twitch. I rubbed hard, my mouth opened to form a wide ‘O’, and my eyes clamped shut as hard as they possibly could. My body was seized, and it was all because of Dalton. But, right at the end, my mind took a turn that I couldn’t have anticipated. From the darkness Rick emerged and suddenly I was sandwiched between the two of them. It shocked me so much that I was almost shaken from my reverie, but my desire was too fierce and there was nothing that could have denied it. I gave myself over to this dark, tempting fantasy, let it seep all around me and in me, and let it dominate me, as I felt the crescendo building and sweet relief, as exquisite delight was released inside me. It came out in one long, languorous stream and, after my muscles had tensed, I felt as though I’d had the most intense massage ever. My limbs felt like liquid and all I wanted to do was ooze all over the place.

  I pulled the bed sheets over my naked body and curled up into the pillow, resting my head against its softness. I told myself that life was going to get better, that all I had to do was trust my instincts and take a chance on happiness and, after that, everything was going to be alright.

  *

  A few days later, Dalton and I arranged a date to go and see the French modern classic that he had never heard of. It always amused me when people didn’t know something that I considered to be common knowledge, because I had spent so many years of my childhood not knowing what other people were going on about, that I made a concerted effort to keep up to date with TV and movies, for those were the things that had been denied me when I was a child. Much of my life had been filled with fiction, no doubt due to my parent’s insistence that I use my imagination, and I wondered if Dalton’s words had weight to them; when he had suggested that I wasn’t being successful at my job, because it simply didn’t hold passion for me. It certainly didn’t allow me to indulge my creativity, and I did find my mind wandering, m
ore often than not, but I had no idea what else I was supposed to do and I didn’t have the confidence to start from scratch.

  I made my way to the Patchwork Theatre, which derived its name from the different colored bricks that made up the building, making it stand out from the rest of the street. It was something of a cultural landmark and was run by an old man and his granddaughter, who were lovely people, and clearly had a deep appreciation for cinema of all types. They rarely showed new movies, but they kept a steady run of classics and hidden gems, that kept a small but loyal crowd coming back. I’d been going there all my life, so I was a regular, and Mel, the granddaughter, gave me a sly smile when she saw me meet Dalton.

  The lobby was small and filled with the aroma of popcorn. We walked into the theatre and grabbed a couple of seats towards the back. It was the busiest I had ever seen it, probably because Amélie was a film that more people had heard of, than most of the ones shown at the Patchwork Theatre.

  I felt a little embarrassed when I saw Dalton, as I’d obviously indulged myself in a fantasy of him, so I blushed when he hugged me and I was extremely glad that mind reading wasn’t possible, as I think I might have died had he known what had been going through my mind. Perhaps some secrets were acceptable after all. He smelled good, and wore a plaid shirt that was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the base of his neck. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal strong forearms and he looked more relaxed than he did at work. We sat beside each other. The seats were so small that our elbows rested against each other and I found the feeling of him to be quite relaxing.

  Usually, when I watched a film I was entirely transfixed on the big screen but, on this occasion, I found my gaze drifting between the screen and Dalton. I was pleased to see that he laughed at the right moments and seemed to enjoy himself, because I hated the thought that the only reason he watched this was because he felt he had to in order to spend time with me. Because of this, I wasn’t as immersed in the film as I usually was, but it was okay, because I’d seen it before and I liked surreptitiously watching Dalton. He caught me watching him a few times and offered a smile in return, before his gaze returned to the screen.