The Model's Bodyguard (Romantic Suspense) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 10 - Postman

Hello, lovelies! :D Here's a chappie that I hope you like. Please remember to VOTE, COMMENT, & FAN if you do! (: Thank you.

Laters, baby! :D

________________________________________________________________________

My mom was soundly eating her breakfast in bed and I was standing aimlessly outside her room. What do I do now? A strong craving for coffee overtook my system and I wondered if a quick trip to a coffee shop could be in order. I walked out of the hallway's crevices and into the living room, making my presence known to the overwhelming bodyguard who would most probably be watching a basketball game.

And he was, sitting lazily on the couch and sprawled so that his body took over a vast space as he followed the players with his dark brown eyes. It was an overpowering sight to take in. The way he so effortlessly displayed his male authority and strength by just being, sitting. Francisco did so unwillingly yet he was power personified.

He looked back, his neck craning so that he could see me, so I decided to speak. "I was thinking of going for some coffee while Dr. Merchant's here that way my mom won't be alone."

"Sure." Cisco nodded.

"I'll get dressed. We can go to your place so you can change beforehand if you'd like." I offered, knowing he hadn't changed since last night because he had slept here.

Cisco chuckled, shaking his head no, and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Jeans and a t-shirt are good." He said, looking at me with a slanted eyebrow, urging me to argue.

I simply shrugged. Sure, if he was comfortable in the same clothes then it didn't bother me.

"Okay. Whatever." I turned around and started for my room.

"But I will use your bathroom." He said, a grin in his voice.

"You do that." I said, smiling to myself. Once in my room I chose a pair of light-wash denim denim jeans, gray converse sneakers, and a fitted white v-neck t-shirt. See, I could wear t-shirts, too. With a quick brushing of my hair and a coloring at my lips with red lipstick, I was done. All I needed to do was use the bathroom. I left my room and started toward the destined door. That door opened abruptly, leaving in its wake the dominating sight of Cisco. All fresh and clean. Skin smooth and glistening from having just shaven. Hair tousled and static at having solely been brushed with his long, big fingers.

It took all of my will power in order to not gawk at him. With two blinks bringing me back into the world of reality I pursed my lips and spoke, "Um, would you like to use my hairbrush?"

"Wouldn't be such a bad idea." He said, grinning.

"It's in my room, lying on the bed." I said, remembering I had tossed it there carelessly. He nodded and moved past me in the direction of my bedroom so I continued walking as well.

"Oh, and Mila?" Cisco called.

I turned around, bemused by the sly grin on his lips. "Yes?"

"I hope you don't mind but I used one of your cute pink razors." He said, taunting me with his teasing tone and the full smirk on his face. I shook my head, scoffing in disbelief. He was such a pain in the ass! Yet why didn't he bother me? Rather, - I had to shamefully admit- he turned me on to no ends, bringing everything to life in such a potent blaze that I was often left dumbstruck.

I rolled my eyes and turned around. "I don't care." I called out, my voice taking on a sing-song tone. They were disposable freaking razors, I did not care.

"And your toothbrush, too." Now that made me stop abruptly in my path, hand already molded around the restroom doorknob.

I turned around on my heel. "What?" I hissed, only catching the sound of Cisco's laughter as he slid into my room. Why the hell had I even let him in there? What had I been thinking? I could just as easily have gone in there myself and retrieved the brush for him. It would be a tremendous problem if Cisco was anywhere near as curious as me, looking into my pantie and bra drawer as I had done his boxer drawer. In my defense, he had told me it was okay to find something to wear and that was not an excuse Cisco could use. What, would he borrow my bra and a pair of lace undies? I chuckled to myself and picked up the toothbrush that lay moistly on the sink with a toothpaste tube beside it. No, Cisco wouldn't borrow my bra. Ogle it, maybe, but not borrow it.