Chapter 3 #5
“So, do you fuck me in your dreams because you think I can make you feel good, or just when you masturbate?” His teeth bite the edge of his lip seductively.
A burning sensation ignites my core, jolting through me quickly when he almost brushes our lips together.
But he is just toying with me, never crossing the lines and always keeping me on the cliff’s edge.
He moves to blow warm air on my cheek. Voice hot against my skin, “I will worship your body the way no other man ever would. After all, you’re mine. ”
My body is buzzing, the temperature keeps climbing, and I’ve never been more flustered with him. But I wouldn’t let him have that sweet victory over me.
“Why are you blushing?”
“I’m not,” my voice is stoic.
“Liar. I bet your sweet ass blushes too.”
“Keep dreaming.”
“We’ll see who shifts in her sleep because she twists the sheets tightly when she dreams of me.”
Fuck it. He’s good.
“So confident. Is that your way of flirting?” I taunt.
A small curve forms at the corner of his lips. “No.”
“Keep denying it, but you tried to kiss me.”
His eyes darken. Voice drops. “Trust me, when I kiss you, you’ll feel it.”
Instinctively, my back arches. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”
“Do you have any?”
“I left them on your bike last night. It did great.”
“You won this round.”
He is so intense. I glance at my broken entrance, then back at him. “You broke my door, Asshole.”
“I’ll install a new one tomorrow. But I will sleep at your entrance to make sure no one steps near your room.”
Was that supposed to sound dirty?
I mirror his smirk. “Like that wasn’t your plan all along.”
“Maybe.” He pulls a few packs of chocolates from his rear pocket and slips them onto the desk. That respectful jerk tracks my period and always makes sure I have things I like that put a smile on my face. “Here’s a peace treaty, Little Demon.” He only calls me that when I’m on my period.
My hand stretches backward, and I grab the chocolate and sandwich while I gaze at him.
“For the record, I see you. You can’t hide from me.” I kiss his chin and ram my shoulder into him as I walk out of my busted doorway. I can’t stop the grin pulling at my lips as I march away. “Thanks for the food and snacks.”
Wet and cold, I rub my thighs as another memory rushes in like a tidal wave.
I’ve had enough of his fluctuating mood. One moment, he is charming; the next, he is an insufferable prick.
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” I announce as we enter Grandma’s office.
“She does.” He argues, turning his head toward me just in time to see me flip him off. He rolls his jaw in annoyance, and the muscle there ticks violently. Sometimes, I want to punch him and dig into his brain at the same time.
“You’re the pain of my existence,” I scowl.
“So are you.”
Grandma’s eyes dance between us as we approach her desk. “What now?” She replies impatiently, sipping her strong coffee and shooting us the “here we go again” look.
“I can protect myself without him hovering over my head like a dark cloud. I’m learning jujitsu and taking some taekwondo classes,” I argue.
Her gaze falls to a few papers lying on the desk.
“She is reckless and likes partying every week with dozens of college kids she doesn’t know. She almost got hit by a car the other day, and guys try to get her attention, which I monitor daily.”
“What, guys?” I snap at him. “You knock them all out before they attempt to approach me.”
“What about snipers or killers?” He continues. “You don’t have bodyguards just for the sake of having bodyguards. There are threats, and there are things you don’t know. I’m here to ensure you live a quiet and peaceful life.”
“The case is closed. He is your bodyguard, and he remains your bodyguard. Now go,” she says definitively in her crisp voice.
I blow out an irritated breath. “Grandma.”
Her eyes flick up from the paper and land directly on me.
“Winona.” She straightens up from her chair, walks around the desk, and tucks me to her side.
“I love you, my sweet girl, more than anything. He wouldn’t have been here unless I thought it wasn’t crucial.
But I’ll tell you what, when you turn twenty-one, I’ll let you decide if you want to keep him. ”
I sigh, knowing everything she does is perfectly calculated to the last detail. “Fine.” Defeated, I look away.
“I love you,” she urges me to turn my head and look at her.
“I love you, too.” I smile at her because, no matter what, she always does what’s best for me. She gave me all the love in the world when my parents were away. She may boss everyone around, but she’s my family and has always made me feel like the most cherished person in her life.
As we walk out the door and close it behind us, he turns around to look at me. “Guess I’m staying for the next two years.”
“Whatever.” I’m really not in the mood. “You know you can’t knock out every guy who stumbles upon my door. I have needs, and I need to have a social life.”
“Use your imagination and touch yourself.” He says nonchalantly as he moves past me, and I keep my clenched fist at my side because if I don’t, I’m going to punch him in the face.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.”
I run after him and pull his wrist until he faces me. “You don’t get to dictate what I do or with whom.” I push my leg between his and kick him behind the knees, bringing him down to the floor.
Confused, he misses the chance to stop me before I flip him down and lock his head inside the T my arms create against my chest.
“I don’t plan to,” he spews words out as I choke him more. It takes him a few more seconds to escape my hold and flip us over.
“Good, because I’m inviting someone over,” I whisper against his lips. A spark ignites within me. I’m completely captivated by his heated gaze and the lust radiating from his body.
“No, you’re not.” He declares, pinning my hands above my head.
I press my lips to his nose and kiss him as a distraction before I yank my hands, crawl underneath him to the side, and straddle his hips as I throw him on his back again. “Yes, I am.”
His face hardens, flooded with guilt and anger.
I will face the consequences later, but his body responds to me, enjoying the feeling of us wrapped around each other.
I know he is lonely. He never says anything about it, doing his job quietly and sufficiently, but I wish he could see how lonely I feel in this house, too.
I just want a friend.
It’s not even about sex; I just use it as an excuse to rile him up.
“Who is he?” He demands an answer, bucking his hips up—the bulge tenting his pants rubs against my center—I completely lose focus before I’m tossed on the side, hands cuffed behind my back.
My shirt hikes up, and the cold floor touches my exposed skin, but he adjusts it as if seeing me like that is out of the question.
“None of your business,” I drawl, thrashing against his arms and biting him at every chance I get as we continue sparring on the floor—I know that’s cheating, but who cares?
His body feels like a sacred temple against my soft curves.
The heat envelops me. We switch positions in sync.
It all stops when we gaze into each other’s blown-out pupils.
They flash like headlights so brightly it’s almost blinding.
For a few moments, he gives in and stares back at me with something inexplicably soft.
“Why do you refuse to let me in?” I ask, desperately needing a friend. I thought he understood that after spending months by my side.
In the blink of an eye, his brows furrow, and he frowns. He loosens his grip, and we pull ourselves back up, tensely staring at each other’s movements.
He grinds his teeth, “Stop playing games,” and runs his fingers through his dark pile of hair. I hate it when he makes me feel like I’m hallucinating things. Our attraction is not one-sided, and he knows it.
“There’s a guy in my class. He’s been asking me out for a while now, and I decided to give him a chance.” I pant out the words, hating him even more for always standing in the middle of everything when he resists me, but gives me false hope.
“I knew I should’ve knocked out that college kid from English class a while back to deliver the message,” he murmurs.
“You know everything about my life, and I know nothing about yours.”
“It’s my job.” His throat bobs with a thick swallow of his lies.
“You know the rules. Before anyone walks inside this house, we run a background check. A weekly check. I need to know what they ate for lunch, where they parked their car, if they drink too much coffee a day, and their last STI result. Hell, I need to know their poop schedule.”
I wrinkle my nose. “That’s kind of gross.”
“I don’t care.” He forces a grin. “No one is getting inside.”
“Fine. Then I’ll go out.” I grin back.
His eyes tilt up to the ceiling as he dramatically drags his hands over his face. “Why do you fight me every single day like we’re in some kind of secret war?”
I shrug. “I’m not. I’m trying to make your job a lot easier.” Maybe he shouldn’t be my bodyguard anymore.
“Wrong.” His voice is low and harsh.
“How so?” I bring my hands to my waist and hug myself under his rough expression.
“You were born to make my life so much more difficult.”
Confused, I furrow my brow and tighten my grip around my elbows. I feel so vulnerable and exposed, and I don’t even know why. “What does that mean?”
“Figure it out yourself.” He strides away, rotating his head from side to side like he does when he wants to punch someone. “And stay inside.”
“Yeah, just leave. Why don’t you go and lift something?” I peel my upper lip into a snarl as I gaze at his back.
He glances over his shoulder, and that wicked smirk pops so fast I want to smack it with a baseball bat.
“Not me,” I warn and turn away to climb the stairs to the second floor, but I halt when he calls my name.
“Winona,” he repeats, and each syllable melts against his seductive lips. “We can go for a ride later if you want.”
I screw my eyes shut. “I don’t want anything from you.” I feel like someone is prodding my chest with a callous finger, trying to leave a blue mark until he murmurs.
“If I give in, I won’t be able to control myself.”
The door slides to my right, and heavy boots slam against the floor as it shuts with a bang behind the person who entered. His presence fills the space beside me, while the van wobbles from the additional weight.
“Ready to go, boys.” That motherfucker. “I hope you brought snacks. This is going to be a long drive.”
The seat vibrates against my ass as soon as Jason finishes his statement.
“Oh, no snacks for you, I’m afraid, except for the ones that will knock you out for a few hours.”
I flip him off and lean back.
“Oh, yeah?” I can hear the humor escaping his wicked lips before it does. “Get in line.”
Somehow, it’s comforting to realize that I am already dealing with trained killers, as Grandma always asserted. She is one. My parents are. And I’ve trained to become a contract killer myself.
I just haven’t killed anyone yet.
A strong whiff of sandalwood fills my nose. The smell of cigarettes follows, mixing with leather. The safety belt rustles against the hook as Jason leans over me, radiating heat that makes my stomach drop. I elbow him hard in his ribs.
“Ouch.” A soft whimper slips from his lips as he clips it to the buckle.
“Don’t get any ideas, mister. You’d better get me there in one piece.”
“It’s not going to hurt. It’ll keep you out while we transfer you to your new location.” His voice is merely a whisper, still sinful and dark. “I got you.”