Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 108

I hesitated in the opening of the garden path, unsure if she wanted company and even less sure if I wanted it.

"Need anything?" Chloe asked without looking my way. The fact that she knew I was there without giving any sign was a little eerie. It was also impressive and probably a good skill to have as a bodyguard. Since my cover was blown, I walked the rest of the way out of the garden and made my way to the pool.

"Hey," I said, "No. Not really. I just thought it would be a nice night to take in the stars"

Chloe glanced at the sky and muttered, "Looks like you might be disappointed."

I followed her gaze. Despite the lack of clouds, the light pollution from New York drowned out all but the brightest of stars even this high up. "Yeah. Guess so."

I looked back down at her and said, "Hope I'm not intruding."

"It's your house," Chloe said as she laid down the plece she'd been polishing and picked up another. She had changed from the blouse-and-jacket combo she had been wearing all day to a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Her hair was in a messy bun held in place by a pair of chopsticks or pencils, strands of it appealingly falling around her face. It was hard to make out much else in the dim illumination cast by the lights that lined the pool.

"Do I need to go?" she asked, still focused on what she was doing.

"No," I said, finally realizing she was cleaning her gun. "That's fine."

Reaching the corner of the pool about four feet from Chloe, I rolled up my pants and then sat on the pool's edge. I enjoyed the coolness of the water as I submerged my legs.

She eyed the bottle and said, "What you drinking?"

"McKellen. I've seen it on TV and in movies. It's associated with wealthy people, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Want some?"

"Sure," Chloe said, "If you're cool with me drinking on the clock."

"Aren't you always on the clock?"

"Yep."

"So you don't drink?"

"Not if I'm on the clock."

I glanced at my phone to see the time; it was approaching eleven. "I think we'll be fine in the penthouse," I said.

She got up from the table and approached me as I poured a generous amount into the single tumbler I'd brought. I handed it to her and she took it, giving me a small smile as she held it out toward me. I clinked the neck of the bottle against the rim of her glass, and we both took a sip of the expensive scotch. Not really in the habit of drinking alcohol without mixers, I immediately set to coughing. Chloe was much cooler about it, only grimacing slightly as she swallowed.

She retumed to her seat with the rest of her glass, and as I recovered from my first interaction with McKellen, I found myself enjoying the view of her ass in those sweatpants. It had all the prominence and apparent firmness of someone who didn't miss leg day at the gym.

"What are you working on?" I asked, looking back down at the bottle in my hands before she could catch me checking her out.

"Just cleaning my gun," she said, taking another sip of scotch before picking up where she left off.

"Does that actually help?"

"It does," she said. "One of the best ways to prevent it from jamming. I keep all my guns cleaned and oiled regularly."

I took another sip of scotch and fared better this time, only coughing a little. I was grateful Chloe didn't seem to be judging me for my lack of experience.

The two of us sat there in near silence, she cleaning her gun while I stared at the water and listened to the news podcast drone on about some peace talks falling apart between two countries I didn't catch the name of. The clacking of gun parts interrupted the broadcast at random intervals.

I took another sip of scotch. "So... earlier today...

"Yes sir?"

"You heard everything?"

She didn't respond immediately, and I glanced in her direction. Нег face wasn't giving me anything to work off of as she bathed her firearm in oil.

"No sir," she finally said, but there was a catch in her voice that made me almost positive that she was lying. I appreciated what she was trying to do.

"It's not always like this," I said.

"Yes sir."

Her tone meant 'if you say so.

"Well, It's a little like this."

Chloe set down the piece she'd been cleaning, grabbed the small table, and moved it to the side. She stood up, grabbed the tumbler of scotch, and approached the edge of the pool where sat. Her t- shirt was thin and clung to her frame, giving me a slightly better idea of her fitness level. Her arms had the tone of someone who made working out a regular hobby, but still maintained a fair amount of her femininity. Her shoulders were a touch broad. She looked like she could hold her own in a fight. She also looked like she could handle being thrown around in the bedroom.

Fuck.

Despite having had sex with Bobbi very recently, I had to slip the bottle of scotch between my legs to hide the growing erection in my pants. Not that it mattered. I was fully aware that someone like her had likely detected what was going on in my pants. Chloe didn't seem like someone who would allow much to escape her notice.

She rolled her sweatpants up her shins, displaying smooth, well- muscled calves as she dipped them into the pool. Settled next to me, she took a sip of her scotch, her eyes staring into me as she did.

"So," she said, "by my count, you're fucking Bobbi, Helen, Erin, Danielle, and the three dancers from this weekend. You were fucking Natalie, but now that's done. That about the size of it?"

"Sort of," I replied, "Natalie and I never officially did anything besides fooling around a little. You got the rest right."