Author's note: the entire personal backstory of the "Sarah" character is based on me. There really was a Kevin in my life, and he really did react that way in response to my actions. I partly wrote this story to heal from all of this.
Oliver is based on Oliver Queen from the TV show "Arrow."
---
"We consider this threat to be serious. We've assigned you a bodyguard until we find out who's orchestrating this," William said.
Sarah let out a slow, shaky breath. Her boss, William, sounded so calm, and yet so serious. So, either he wasn't worried, or he was pretending not to be. She had a sinking feeling that it was the latter.
Sarah was a successful assistant district attorney. She had gone after rapists, murderers, and had even assisted on a serial killer case. But things didn't get scary—really scary—until she brought embezzlement charges against a notorious pundit. He was a member of the alt-right, and his fans were even more crazy than he was. They had been targeting her with threats and harassment ever since the trial started. The police had investigated, supposedly. She had forwarded every message, every letter, every threat. And each time, they assured her that the threats were not serious, that they were meant to get under her skin, and that she didn't need extra protection.
Well, the threats had indeed gotten under her skin. But, she hadn't let them affect her work, mostly through sheer force of will. But now, today, she could hardly breathe. Today, either things had changed, or the police had been wrong all along. She wasn't sure which was worse.
"Ah, Oliver, you're here," William said, motioning to the door.
"Sarah, meet Oliver, your bodyguard."
Sarah shook his hand, her head spinning. Despite her anxiety, she noticed how attractive he was. Tall, muscular, with piercing blue eyes. He looked like could be very dangerous. He also seemed like someone who could protect her, someone she could trust. It was a strange feeling, and not one she entirely liked.
Sarah barely followed the rest of the conversation. She felt numb. Finally, she was in Oliver's SUV and he was driving her home.
"Other than work, I recommend not going out in public. Unless it's absolutely necessary," Oliver said.
"Don't worry, I don't have much of a social life," Sarah replied. "But, it's my friend's birthday tomorrow night. We're all going out for drinks."
"That's fine," Oliver said. He was quiet the rest of the ride home. He was a man of few words, she noticed.
Of course, Oliver had realized that their silence was awkward. He had tried start a conversation a half-dozen times, but somehow couldn't bring himself to say anything. What could he say? Everything he thought of seemed too simple, too trite. He couldn't ask her about her job, that would obviously be a tough subject. And small talk seemed so... well, small. He couldn't imagine that she would be impressed with his conversation skills, anyway. She was smart, educated, and intellectual. He was big and strong and knew how to protect people.
He had always been better with action. That's why he had joined the Marines, right out of college. He didn't enjoy taking orders, but there was a beautiful simplicity about it. But, war had taken its toll, emotionally and physically. Being a bodyguard seemed like a good fallback plan.
And, the long hours meant that he had an easy excuse whenever women inevitably wanted to spend more time with him. He only did casual relationships these days. He was always honest, of course, and yet women seemed to think they could change him. They couldn't. The way he saw it, love was a four-letter word. At least, it had been for the past two years.
He sighed under his breath and hoped the rest of the assignment would feel less awkward. He had never felt quite so out of place.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
By the next evening, Sarah didn't want to see her friends. Going out for drinks was such a normal thing to do. And nothing was normal, not since yesterday. She'd spent the last day in a daze. Nothing felt real. Nothing seemed to matter.
She'd already decided not to tell her friends who Oliver really was. It was easier that way. And easier to pretend that she wasn't afraid, that she wasn't in danger.
As they walked up to the pub, Oliver couldn't help but notice how beautiful Sarah looked. She was wearing a short black skirt and tank top, which had a lovely contrast against her pale skin. Her dark hair was done up in some kind of complicated, sexy style. Her eyes and lips were bright and shiny. He had to force himself to stop staring. She was absolutely stunning.
Did his cock just twitch? Well, fuck. As if the night wasn't already awkward enough.
He'd had his share of beautiful clients, of course. And clients who were drawn to him, especially because he was protecting them. There were even clients who assumed he would sleep with them, just because they were attractive, famous, and willing. He had never been tempted, not even once. Annoyed, yes. Many times. But never—ever—tempted.
And yet, Sarah was different. She was cool, confident, and pretended that she wasn't rattled. Pretended that she wasn't terrified. But Oliver knew she was.
It was the way her hands were shaking in the car ride home, though she had tried to hide it. It was how quiet and withdrawn she was, though William had described her as outgoing and gregarious. And, it was how she hardly looked at him. As if she could will him not to be there and no longer be in danger.
After he accepted the assignment, he had learned more about her. He discovered that she was accomplished, talented, and as sharp as a tack. She was a rising star in the department, and that was why she had been given such high-profile cases. Oliver had watched an interview where the host had tried to paint the DA's office as overly zealous, using facts taken out of context and inflammatory rhetoric. Sarah had remained calm and simply
eviscerate
d
the host, laying down fact after fact until he gave up and went to commercial. Oliver still recalled the fleeting look of shock on the man's face. He had probably assumed that the slender, petite woman was no match for him. Ah well,
his mistake
.
Sarah felt awkward too. Not only was she feeling out of sorts, but Oliver was so
clearly
not looking forward to the evening. The way he looked at her was just so... blank. Was he deliberately avoiding her eyes?
Sarah introduced Oliver to her friends and caught a raised eyebrow from Joanne. As soon as he looked away, Joanne leaned forward and whispered, "Sarah. He's cute! Tell me about him."
"He's a blind date, actually," Sarah replied. "And yes," she added, rolling her eyes, "I know it's weird to bring him here. I just wanted an easy escape if I needed it."
"Ok, but
he
doesn't look like he wants to escape," Joanne said, pointedly. She'd noticed the small, subtle heat in Oliver's eyes when he glanced in Sarah's direction. "
He
looks like he wants to leave with you, actually. For some definition of the word 'leave'".
Sarah's stomach fluttered. She imagined Oliver on top of her on the living room floor. His lips on hers, whispering dirty things in her ear. His hard cock pressed against her body. His touch on her skin, as she moaned and bucked against him in anticipation. She shook her head slightly, trying to push the thoughts out of her mind.
That would never happen. Oliver was a professional. Not to mention, he barely wanted to be around her, much less roll around on the living room floor with her. They had hardly exchanged two words since they met, she'd noticed.
