Victor leaned against the car, his eyes scanning the other vehicles parked nearby. There were numerous men like him, men who maintained unreadable expressions while wearing tailored suits that concealed their shoulder holsters. Each was waiting for a student to emerge from the private school where classes had just ended not only for the day, but for the entire academic year. Victor realized he was the oldest of the drivers. At forty-eight, his once-dark hair was now mostly gray, and his face bore deep lines and scars. His nose was a little crooked as a result of being broken several times in his younger years. He was tall and thin, but still plenty strong. And he was an excellent shot. He didn't have the polish of the younger men around him, however.
A rush of girls poured out of the school, their collective mood celebratory. As the din of their chatter drifted toward Victor, he spotted his charge. Phoebe was wearing the school's ridiculous uniform, which consisted of a pleated navy blue skirt and a white blouse. She even had on the knee socks to complete the outfit. Victor didn't understand why the girls weren't permitted to wear slacks. For Christ's sake, it was the early 1990s, with the world on the cusp of a new millennium.
For her part, Phoebe didn't complain. She was at the top of her class and would be heading overseas in the fall to attend a prestigious university. As she now approached him, a breeze ruffled her dark, shoulder-length hair. Like her mother, Phoebe was buxom, with full breasts and curvy hips. Several of the other drivers gave her an appreciative once-over as she walked by. Phoebe wore a little smirk when her eyes met Victor's. She'd once been such a quiet girl, always with her nose in a book, but since her eighteenth birthday in February, she'd grown increasingly mouthy, challenging Victor's authority at every turn. He didn't understand the change in her. Maybe she could sense the freedom that awaited her when she left for college later in the year. Then she'd no longer be under her father's thumb. Phoebe was his youngest child and his only daughter.
Her father was an extremely wealthy man, and Victor had worked for the family a long time. In their country, kidnappings for ransom were far from unheard of, so Victor's sole responsibility was to keep Phoebe safe. Her father knew Victor wouldn't hesitate to give his life in order to protect the girl.
It had been a good job, Victor told himself, though he knew his role would soon be coming to an end. Phoebe would be attending university in a safer place, with no need of constant security. She would no longer require an armed driver to escort her everywhere. As of yet, there had been little discussion between Victor and Phoebe's father about what he would do once the girl left the country. It weighed on Victor's mind, the thought of suddenly being rendered useless. He had no wife, no family. He only had this job.
As Phoebe waved goodbye to several friends, Victor opened the car's back door for her. "Good afternoon, Phoebe," he said.
She sniffed the air around him, wrinkling her nose. "You've been smoking again."
"But not in the car, which is the only area that concerns you at this moment."
"I thought you'd quit." She climbed into the backseat, her skirt riding up her thighs. Victor immediately averted his stare. Once he was again behind the wheel, they began the drive toward Phoebe's house, which was more like a gated compound. It was nearly an hour's journey from the school, but her father had insisted she receive the best education possible while remaining under his roof throughout her high school years. Thus, the tiring commute. Phoebe used to tell Victor about her friends and what she'd learned in class, but in recent weeks, she'd grown quiet, almost sullen. Victor found he missed their conversations, which had broken up the monotony of the drive, but he didn't press her to talk to him. At least she wasn't hounding him to play her favorite music, which she called grunge and he called noise.
As they headed away from the city and their surroundings grew more rural, Victor glanced in the rearview mirror and found Phoebe regarding him. "Victor," she said.
"Yes?" He fixed his stare on the road once more.
"What will you do with yourself when you no longer have to drive me around everywhere?"
It was uncanny, Victor thought, the way Phoebe seemed to sense what had been troubling him as of late. Her question was like a finger pressed into a raw wound. "Oh, I'm sure your father will find some other job for me."
"Will you miss me?"
Victor looked in the mirror again and found that Phoebe had spread her legs wide, her posture decidedly unladylike. She'd been this way recently, unbuttoning her blouse and leaning forward to give him a good look at her cleavage, or making sure her skirt revealed plenty of thigh. He told himself it was because she was now a woman, full of urges the students at an all-girls school couldn't satisfy. "You've been quite a handful at times," he told her with a wry smile.
"Victor?"
He fought back a sigh. She was determined to be a pain in the ass today. "Yes, Phoebe?"
"Do you ever think about me while you're jerking off? You still jerk off at your age, right?"
Though Victor's grip on the wheel tightened, his tone remained pleasant as he said, "What's gotten into you? You're a bright young woman, soon to head off to university. You have been given an excellent education, and every opportunity in life, yet you sit back there and talk like a common whore." He could speak to her in such a way without fear of reprisal, for she was no snitch. Hell, maybe she pushed Victor because she knew he was the only person who would be so blunt with her. He took no pleasure in being disrespectful to her, but she brought out his worst side sometimes, with her mocking remarks and cruel taunts.
"I bet this will make you jerk off tonight," Phoebe said. Victor heard her moving around in the backseat, and when he glanced in the mirror, he saw her giving him one of her "fuck me" looks. Her cheeks were now flushed, and her brown eyes were heavy-lidded with arousal. Against his better judgment, he adjusted the mirror, angling it so he could see lower.
Phoebe had lifted her skirt and pulled the crotch of her white panties aside, revealing a thatch of pubic hair. Victor got a glimpse of pink, glistening folds before looking away. He knew it would do no good to demand that Phoebe cover up, for she would only defy him. Repositioning the mirror, he managed to keep his expression neutral. He gave absolutely no indication he was getting a hard-on. "You know what men call a woman who behaves like you?" he said in that same mild tone. "A cocktease."
Victor heard her gasp. "I'm not a tease!" Her voice quavered with outrage. "I'm not even a virgin."
"Of course you aren't." He made no attempt to hide his sarcasm.
"You think I'm lying? I fucked Annika's brother two weeks ago!"
A seam of fury opened up within Victor at her revelation. Annika was Phoebe's closest friend, and Phoebe was allowed to sleep over at Annika's house because it was just as heavily guarded as her own. Victor imagined Annika's brother, home from college, waiting till everyone was asleep before he seduced Phoebe. It made Victor want to tear the bastard apart with his bare hands.
"You won't tell my father, will you?" Phoebe asked. Her cockiness appeared to have vanished.
"You're a woman now," Victor said through his teeth. "Your father no longer has a say in the matter."
Phoebe made a strange sound, almost like a sob. Again, their eyes met in the mirror, and Victor noted the sorrow her stare held. "I wanted you to be my first," she said, "but you act like you can barely stand the sight of me!"
Victor swallowed hard, at a loss as to how to respond. That explained Phoebe's behavior in recent months. The provocative looks and flashing of skin, including her pussy—it was all because she had a crush on him. He supposed it was natural for her to develop feelings for the man who had been a steadfast, unwavering presence in her life, and who would soon be saying goodbye to her. The realization made Victor feel as if a fist was squeezing his heart in his chest. "I care for you, Phoebe," he finally said, "but it wouldn't be appropriate for us to become romantically involved. It would also be a betrayal of your father on my part, and I owe him everything."
"He wouldn't have to know!"
Victor swore in his native tongue, which Phoebe couldn't understand. "My job is to guard you, not to fuck you!"
Phoebe fell silent, and Victor wouldn't allow himself to look at her. When she spoke again minutes later, her voice held a tremor. "Victor, I'm feeling really sick. Can you stop the car?"
"What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern. Examining her reflection in the mirror, he thought she did appear a little peaked.
"I think I'm going to throw up," she whimpered. Victor immediately pulled over, but instead of leaving the car, Phoebe released a squawk of protest. "Find somewhere more private! I don't want to puke in front of people driving by!"
"Goddamn it, Phoebe, there's no traffic out this way!" he barked. Still, he drove a bit farther, then backed onto a dirt road surrounded by woods. It was his job to be familiar with this area, so close to Phoebe's residence. He knew this road, used mostly by farm vehicles, led to acres of pastureland nearby. After parking the car, Victor turned in his seat. "Is this private enough for you?" The car was now beyond view of anyone who might pass by on the main road.
Phoebe no longer looked pale. In fact, her cheeks were flushed again. Victor worried she was feverish, but she only smiled and said, "This is perfect." Then, she began climbing over the seat.
"What the hell are you doing? I thought you were sick!"
"Sorry, I had to lie." Before Victor could stop her, Phoebe reached to turn off the car and take the key from the ignition. His eyes widened when she proceeded to drop the key down her blouse, which was still neatly tucked into her skirt.
Again, he swore. "We don't have time for your games! Your father is expecting us back at the house."
"Then we'd better be quick." Phoebe slipped a hand between his thighs, making him gasp. A delighted smile lit up her face when she found he was still semi-hard. "Oh, seeing my pussy did excite you!"
Victor had nowhere to retreat. His eyes locked with Phoebe's as she stroked him through his pants. "We need to stop this. Right now."
Her smile morphed into a look of blatant need. "Please," she whispered. "Let me do this, Victor. I want to so much!"
His breathing quickened at her words. He felt strangely helpless while she rushed to take out his cock. She was fumbling, clearly nervous, but he couldn't deny how much her touch aroused him. "Phoebe," he groaned.
She soon had Victor's dick free from his pants. Her pupils became large, dark pools as she studied his erection. Despite his wish to be a stronger man who could resist her advances, Victor didn't try to stop her from taking hold of his cock. At first, Phoebe's grip was too rough, so he wrapped his hand around hers to guide her as she jerked him off. "Like this," he murmured, and she readily nodded. It was just a handjob, he told himself. If she satisfied herself with his, perhaps she'd get over her infatuation.
Phoebe watched his face while stroking him. "Does that feel good, Victor?"
"It does," he confessed, "but we need to go. You should be home."
In reply, Phoebe licked her lips and then lowered her head to take Victor's tip into her mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning back against the headrest. She was clumsy and inexperienced, but so eager! It had been a good while since a woman had gone down on him, and Phoebe was no ordinary woman. She seemed to enjoy playing with his foreskin and even went so far as to work the tip of her tongue beneath it.
"Ah, fuck!" Victor sighed. "Keep doing that, sweetheart!" Stroking her hair, he felt a wave of affection for the girl.
Phoebe drew her legs up onto the passenger seat so she could kneel. Then, with her ass lifted in the air, she returned to licking and sucking him. Victor couldn't resist tugging up her skirt. She flashed him a grin while using that firm but gentle touch to stimulate his cock. "Now's your chance to spank me," she told him.
Victor caressed the curve of her ass. "I would never hurt you," he whispered. "Did that boy who took your virginity hurt you? If he did, I will—"
"He went slow," Phoebe said. "He was actually really sweet since it was my first time."