One Safe Place by Alvin L. A. Horn Read Free Book Online

watch his hardness become his weapon of choice. He slays all my fears, and imprisons the stipulations I thought I needed to maintain some control. He replaces my wants with total fulfillment in my desires so I can lose all control. When I’m in his control, I’m truly free.
    As my Secret Service agent, my feelings grew more intense each time he was assigned to protect me. I wanted him. I wanted any part of the man who would take a bullet for me. Black Knight Syndrome, maybe? I am no different from any other woman whowants what they want in a man, no matter whether if it’s good or bad for them. I have surrendered to my fearless man.
    Psalms has many dimensions. One night in Paris, Agent Psalms Black was off for the night. My security detail worked in teams, and my other agents, EL’vis, Dean, and Phil Armstrong, were on duty. If there were times for a single agent, Psalms was one of the few agents allowed to do so. I eavesdropped on the on-duty agents speaking to Psalms as he needed to inform them of his whereabouts. I’m sure they knew I was listening, and he would be at a small jazz club later that night sitting in with a band, I overheard. I had no idea what that meant since I knew so little of him at the time. He, unlike the other agents, hardly ever talked to anyone.
    I instructed my agents that we were going out that night. They found it odd, but I was the boss. I was the most powerful woman in the world, and if I wanted to go out on the town in Paris, it was their duty to serve. Hell, I had told the Prime Minister of France earlier in the day that he needed to grow a pair when dealing with Israel.
    It was imperative that whenever I was in public, whether in interviews or meeting heads of state, I had to look professional and elegant. A woman in my position was judged quickly and critically. My personal stylist always traveled with me, and, yes, that was on the taxpayers’ dime. She always had my wardrobe prepared, my makeup flawless, and my hair never open to criticism.
    Always on the stage front as the Secretary of State, I’m confident in my skills and presentation. That night I walked in the club dressed in a red after-five dress that any woman in Paris would envy. Normally, sexy is not the look I’m after, but I felt desirable from head to toe. I’m known as the sling-back-heel woman. I had on red suede sling-backs with black leather toes. My agents hadme sit at a table along a wall near the rear exit for security logistics.
    On the stage, Psalms played a huge stand-up bass with the same precision he could shoot his service revolver with. He played the bass without missing a beat as if it were his heartbeat. The band played jazz and blues, and Psalms played as if he had been with the band all his life. He is a man who one may never truly find out all he is capable of, what he has done, and what he will do.
    His thick, long fingers strummed and pulled strings. His fingers, his fingers, his fingers, oh my goodness. I sat there squeezing my thighs, and my thick lips—I was squeezing them thin. I had to remember to breathe.
    My serotonin levels always elevated with him standing near, even if I gave a press conference on climate change. With his body nearby and ready to serve and protect, I would give an elegant and relevant presentation and just happen to look over at him and the climate changed between my thighs. I’d smile out to the audience, and my mind would send a movie in to my vision replacing the people in front of me. I would see his head between my thighs and hear the soundtrack of his tongue licking and eating and sniffing me, and the volume would be on ten. I would think that in front of hundreds, just from a glance his way.
    He was always in my head holding my attention in ways other men had not. I’m sure most women see a certain man and develop some kind of crush, but in time, they mentally move on. But, this man—I felt my soul stalking him, even in