Saved By Your Hot Book Boyfriend

20. Pool Party with the Hot Guy

20

Pool Party with the Hot Guy

Ziros

She’s wearing the pajamas. She is wearing the pajamas.

I was joking when I picked them out.

Mostly .

Wishfully hoping she’d put them on and show me, but also joking. Because I didn’t really expect her to.

And now she’s actually wearing them. But this wasn’t what I expected. Not what I wanted.

No .

I wanted her to wear them for me .

A strange jealousy burns through my veins.

It must be the damn link connecting us, making me protective. It’s gotta be the spell she put on me.

Because here she is stripping her dress off right in the middle of the penthouse hallway, right in front of Blondie. He watches her with obvious interest, head tilting to follow her every move as she ducks out of the dress and slings it easily over one arm.

Well, holy damn .

I knew she had curves, but that little, golden triangle of fabric is hugging the shape of her ass so well, I can’t rip my gaze away.

And I swear she knows it. I swear she’s doing this on purpose. She catches my eye as her head turns, and I swear for a split-second I see the hint of a triumphant smile.

Well, damn.

Did she want me to react like this? Because that only feeds my fantasy. The one where she’s—

“Which way to the pool?” She asks Blondie, and the fantasy comes crashing down.

Right.

She’s not wearing that hot little thing for me.

No.

And Blondie sure as hell ain’t looking at her face.

He’s staring down at the metallic gold triangles covering her chest. Or, more likely, he’s staring at what’s under the damn little triangles that don’t do much covering at all.

Don’t get me wrong.

She looks hot in it.

I love it.

But something about the way he’s looking at her so hungrily makes the jealousy burn hotter under my skin.

I step between them, folding my arms and blocking his view with my body.

“Hey,” I bark, deciding I’ll roll into this whole bodyguard thing. Gesturing above the shoulders, I say, “Eyes up here if you want to keep ‘em.”

Blondie just blinks, taking a step back like my threat caught him off-guard, and now he’s trying to decide if I’m being serious.

If he owns this place, he probably has a whole security detail of his own. Maybe he’s thinking about calling them and escorting me off the premises.

Which would be fine by me. We’d be back in her apartment sooner, all alone while she wears that skimpy little…

Beside me, June laughs.

Actually laughs.

“It’s okay, Z ,” she says, grabbing my bicep. “He’s not doing any harm.”

Hang on. Does she want this creepy rich guy to look at her?

I glare harder at him.

Fine.

If she wants to get ogled by creepy rich boys, that’s her choice.

But she put me in the role of bodyguard, and I’m not backing down from this act. Not until the night is over.

And nothing is gonna change the truth: I want her. I want her all to myself, and I don’t share.

I’d carry her back to her apartment, and—

The fantasy appears before I can stop myself.

She’s lying there in bed beneath me, wearing just those little pajamas while I straddle her. There’s so little fabric, tied on only by string.

String that would come undone so easily in my hands.

These pajamas—

Wait. There’s the word: Bikini .

They were never pajamas. It’s a swimsuit.

Of course it is.

Which makes a lot more sense, considering that the hallway opens up to a set of double-doors leading to a rooftop pool. And, you know—since this is a pool party and all.

But it’s hard to think about anything except:

One, the way that tiny scrap of metallic cloth hugs her curves as she walks in front of me, hips swinging.

And two, how Blondie keeps inching closer to her side, like he’s planning to put his arm around her. But he must sense me glaring him down again, because he glances back at me and puts his hands in his pockets, all innocent-like. Not that it stops me from glaring.

If he makes a move, he’ll regret it.

He holds the doors open for her as if he’s some sort of gentleman, but I know better. I can see every bit of bad intention dripping from under that cocky smile as he leads her out onto the pool deck.

And suddenly it hits me that nobody here is wearing much at all.

Not even the guys.

They’ve all got their shirts off, strewn across the backs of slatted pool furniture, an array of towels lying spread and rumpled here and there as their owners laze about, umbrella’d drinks in hand, or lean against the side of the pool where they stand in the water, chatting one-another up beneath the steady beat of low background music.

And at least half the women are dressed exactly like my human.

Yeah.

Mine .

As long as we’re linked, that’s exactly what she is.

That’s why I’m so damn protective of her. It’s not that I care about her. It’s her stupid magic, binding me to her.

And she’s hot.

But that’s got nothing to do with feelings.

If she doesn’t want me to get up in her business, she should just let me go. Figure out how to set me free and be done with it.

But instead I’m here, watching Blondie show us where to find towels. He offers her some sort of mixed drink, which she takes with a smile.

I frown.

Is he trying to get her drunk?

Maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t offer me one.

At least one of us needs to stay sober.

When another guest catches Blondie’s attention, June pulls me aside into a darkened corner of the pool area. We’re on top of a skyscraper, looking out over the cityscape below.

“Sorry about that,” she whispers, glancing nervously at the glass railing before pressing her drink into my hands. “I didn’t mean for you to get treated like you’re working.”

I just shrug.

“It’s fine. But if you want me to be your bodyguard, better expect I’ll act the part.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I grab her drink, tilting the fruity thing back. It’s surprisingly sweet for something that tastes like it’s got a good three shots in it. Without meaning to, I’ve downed the whole thing.

She stares at me the same way she did when I helped myself to her kitchen.

With arms folded across her chest—which takes all my effort not to stare at—she says, “ Way to share. ”

I know I should apologize, but I can’t help but smirk.

“As your bodyguard for the evening, it’s my job to prevent you from getting into trouble.”

“You mean, fun .”

“Same difference.”

“If you’re going to be that way,” she grumbles, “We might as well just go home.”

Now I can’t help myself.

I slide one hand behind her back, pulling her close as I murmur in her ear, “I’m not gonna pretend I wouldn’t like that.”

She pulls away, blushing.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hey!” Blondie calls, frowning at the empty drink glass in my hand as he reappears. And he clearly talking only to June when he asks, “You wanna hit the hot tub first, or maybe the pool? Let me know if you’re hungry. We’ve got whatever you could want.”

Glancing back at the drink in my hand again, a wicked smile slides across his face, and I know he’s just got a bad idea. I just don’t know what, yet.

Something about this guy feels off.

He’s not a normal human. I can tell that much.

Is it possible he’s one of my kind? I frown, stepping closer to my human.

“Hey bodyguard,” he adds. “Lemme get you another drink. What’ll it be? We’ve got an aged whiskey that I’m sure will be right up your alley.”

Whiskey?

I know better than to accept when he’s surely just trying to distract me from my so-called bodyguard duties. But it’s been centuries since I’ve had a good drink.

That mixed crap I just chugged might as well have been sewer water.

And before I know it, Jeeves appears at my side, carrying a gleaming bottle on a tray. He pours a glass for me and Blondie before disappearing again, leaving us the bottle on a little table.

June watches me like she’s trying to read the situation. Maybe she’s figured out that Mr. Rich Boy is trying to get me drunk so he can get her alone without a bodyguard in the way. But if so, she doesn’t need to worry.

I’m already onto him.

And it would take more than a few shots of swill and a glass of decent whiskey to do me under.

All it does is loosen me up.

He frowns, pouring me another, then another. Soon, the entire bottle is gone. Finally, he turns, heading toward a group of others that just arrived.

“Bring him another bottle,” he says to the butler with an easy wave as he leaves.

I settle onto the edge of a barstool near a table filled with fancy appetizers, letting my gaze linger on my human’s tiny gold bikini, at the curve of her breasts barely concealed by the thin fabric.

Maybe the alcohol is having an effect after all, because my self-restraint is slowly starting to evaporate.

How long has it been since I’ve been with a woman?

No.

No, I shouldn’t be having these thoughts.

I’m still trying not to look, but I can’t help it.

I want her.

I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my damn life.

“Are you okay?” She asks, moving closer, so close I can smell the deeply intoxicating scent of her blood, of her skin, of her body and curves and everything beneath that tiny bikini.

I want to pull the strings and push her back against that glass wall and take her right here.

To claim her right here, in front of everyone.

That’s what I want.

“You look a little pale,” she says, but it’s hard to hear her voice over the blood rushing in her veins.

Hunger surges through me as the fantasies churn through my mind all over again. I want her.

Body, blood, and soul.

No, wait . What the hell am I thinking?

She’s just a human. A magical human, but still a weak little mortal.

It’s just the magic tying us together. It’s making me feel things I don’t.

It’s a trick.

I should be making her figure out how to set me free, but instead here I am fantasizing about keeping her forever.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Maybe I’m going soft.

Ha .

Definitely not in that way, though.

Not while she’s wearing that .

And yet here she is innocently worrying about me.

“The bottle, sir,” Jeeves says as he reappears, setting a fresh silver platter on the little table beside me before taking a step back. “Please,” he bows between June and I. “Enjoy yourselves.”

And that’s all it takes to pull me back to reality.

“I’m fine,” I insist as the butler leaves, but my human is still frowning across the table at me with those innocent, concerned eyes.

“You look like you’re really feeling the alcohol,” she says, and her worry is strangely delicious.

Yes! Worry about me, human. Give it to me! Give me all your attention!

I want it all. Every drop.

But I also don’t want her thinking I can’t hold my liquor.

“This?” I ask, holding up my empty glass before pouring myself another. I take a long, slow sip. Savoring it. Savoring it like I’d savor her blood. And the feeling of her body wrapped around mine. “ Nah . This is nothing. I can drink anyone under the table.”

“Wanna bet?”

It’s Blondie.

He’s back, and he slings an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close.

I push suddenly up from the table as every molecule of my body sparks with rage.

He’s taken his stupid rich boy polo shirt off, no doubt slung over one of the ritzy pool chairs, and the side of his bare chest is pressed up against June’s nearly-equally-bare torso.

And I’m aware that the entire party has gone quiet, watching with bated breath to see what’s gonna happen. They’re waiting for a show.

Fine.

They want a show?

I’ll give them a show.

I stand slowly up from my barstool, stripping my own damn shirt off. I’m ripped and I know it.

I didn’t spend all those years trapped in the void doing nothing, after all.

The blond guy’s tall, but he’s still a few inches shorter than me, and I glare down at him.

“Remove your arm from her shoulders,” I say slowly, emphasizing every word. “ Before I remove it for you .”

For a beat, the entire pool goes completely silent. Even the music playing through the speakers seems to quiet.

Good.

Maybe this way he’ll take my threat seriously.

Because I may just be a fake bodyguard, but the business I mean is real.

Only, Blondie just laughs.

“How about this,” he suggests lazily, with that infuriating I-own-the-place smirk while he still has his arm around my human. “Let’s have a little contest. If I can out-drink you, I get to ask your client out. And you have to promise not to interfere.”

Client .

Maybe this bodyguard thing has gone too far.

I take a step forward, reaching for his arm, ready to yank the damn thing off. Off her shoulders , that is. I’d do worse, but June is giving me a look.

A look that says I’d better not make a scene.

Fine . Have it your way.

Fortunately, Rich Boy Blondie pulls his arm away just in time, and I fold mine across my bare chest, glaring him down harder.

June starts to lift her hands like she intends to get in the middle and stop us, but I’m not done yet.

Like I said, nobody can out-drink me. Especially not a pathetic human.

I might as well see where this is going.

“Alright,” I ask. “Let’s say I take you up on your little bet. And what do I get if I win?”

He shrugs, and I can tell he’s trying to play it off like it’s no big deal. Like he’s so rich, these stakes are small potatoes to him. “If by some unlikely turn of events you manage to win, then I’ll let you two have a nice, romantic dinner alone in my luxury superyacht.”

I’m sure June is about to stop me, but she just takes a step back, glancing at the bottle of fine, aged whiskey like maybe she’s contemplating how likely I am to win.

So she wants a ride in a fancy superyacht, huh? And a romantic one, at that?

Ha . Well, then.

I can make that happen.

Just watch me.

“ Deal ,” I say before I can regret it.

And maybe I’m already drunker than I realized, because that’s when I see Rich Boy’s eyes flash with red light.

Ahhh, hell.

Damn it, how could I forget?

He’s not human.

He was never human.

This boy is a straight-up vampire.

What the hell kind of battle did I just get myself into?

But it doesn’t matter. I can still drink this kid under the table, even if he does turn out to be a two-thousand-year-old bloodsucker.

Blondie grins, holding out his hand for me to shake, and I glare back at him as he smirks.

“May the best man win.”