7. Kayla
It’s still dark outside the windows when I climb out of bed and sneak over to my closet. I haven’t done this particular thing since last year, because it annoys the neighbors. But Jace is turning out to be a real pain in the ass, so I can’t go easy on him.
I hated the way he sat right behind me like that in class yesterday. It made me feel like a prisoner.
Sliding my closet door open, I crouch down and push aside a stack of sweaters so that I can reach the small box in the back. After lifting the lid, I move aside some other items from my stash and then pull out the canister I was searching for. I leave the box like that since I’ll be returning my anti-bodyguard equipment to it soon. Straightening, I brush my free hand down my sleep shorts and top.
With the canister in hand, I walk over to my door and edge it open.
Since it’s only five o’clock in the morning, the rest of the apartment is dark and quiet. But I still check to make sure that Jace isn’t lurking out there before I slip through the door and into the living room.
Yellow light from the streetlamps outside falls in through the windows and illuminates the room enough for me to see where I’m going. I tiptoe across the hardwood floor until I reach the door to Jace’s room on the other side.
His door has been left slightly open, probably so that he can clearly hear if I call for help. Which I have to admit is kind of thoughtful of him. But it unfortunately still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want him here.
How can he not understand what it’s like? How can he not understand that his presence here, and everywhere I am every day of the week, makes me feel like a prisoner? That it makes me feel like I’m being suffocated. He is living in my apartment, for God’s sake! I have no privacy. No freedom. Doesn’t he understand what it’s like to feel trapped?
Shaking my head in frustration, I slink in through the gap in the door and sneak into his bedroom.
My heart skips a beat when my eyes land on him.
He hasn’t even closed the blinds, so the light from the streetlamps outside falls in patches across the bed. And across his body.
Standing by the foot of the bed, I watch him for a while.
His perpetually messy hair is equally messy in sleep. But when those loose curls are tumbling over a pillow it’s somehow even more sinfully hot. Suddenly, I just want to run my fingers through his hair and make it even more messy.
My gaze slips down to his body.
He has kicked off the cover at some point because it now only covers one leg and half of his hip, leaving the rest of his body on full display. And since he only sleeps in a pair of boxers, it leaves a lot on display.
Fire sears through my veins.
God, I thought he was hot just wearing that damn t-shirt. But shirtless… the man is a damn masterpiece.
I stare at his broad shoulders and firm pectorals and perfectly sculpted abs while slowly shaking my head in disbelief. Does he do anything other than work out? With a body this perfect, he has to be one of those health freaks who only eat chicken and eggs and who spend every waking moment in the gym.
Shaking my head once again, I shift my gaze back up to his face.
His features are smoothened by sleep, making him look almost… innocent.
Guilt slices through my insides, and I glance down at the canister in my hand.
It’s technically not his fault that he’s here. My father is the one who hired him and who is insisting that I need a bodyguard. Not Jace. He is literally just doing the job he was hired for.
A flash of anger pulses through me.
Gritting my teeth, I tighten my grip on the canister and shove all traces of guilt out of my mind.
It doesn’t matter if he’s only doing his job, it’s making me miserable. And I want him gone. If he didn’t want to deal with my shit, he shouldn’t have accepted this contract. Nothing is stopping him from just getting another job. But him being here is stopping me from living my life. So I will give him hell until he quits.
I straighten my spine and give myself a determined nod before sneaking around the bed until I’m standing right next to Jace instead.
Then I lift the air horn canister and blare it right in his face.
A loud blast cuts through the room, shattering the silence like a smashed mirror.
Jace shoots up from the bed.
I chuckle, but the sound is cut off halfway through by a yelp.
My stomach lurches as I topple backwards when Jace practically tackles me to the floor. I hit it hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. A huff rips from my throat and I drop the air horn canister. It clatters against the floor before rolling away.
I try to gasp air back into my lungs, but before I can even begin to draw a breath, Jace’s massive body lands on top of me.
His hands are like steel bands around my wrists, slamming them into the floor above my head. I try to use my legs to push him off me, but it’s impossible because they’re spread wide on either side of his hips rather than underneath him.
I snap my gaze up to his face.
Fear floods my chest like cold water.
His face is lethally calm, his mouth pressed into a thin line and his eyes sharp. And there is a terrible sense of danger radiating off him.
I try to suck in another breath underneath his powerful body.
Fuck.
Maybe surprising an assassin with an air horn in the middle of the night wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Then Jace’s eyes focus on my face, and recognition blows across his features. He blinks. And then frowns.
In a matter of seconds, that terrifying danger evaporates from his features and is instead replaced by something like exasperation. Or maybe annoyance. Or both.
At last, he pulls back enough for his chest to stop crushing mine. I suck in a desperate breath, finally refilling my lungs.
But he doesn’t climb off me.
His hands remain around my wrists, pinning them to the floor, and his hips are flush against mine. With his body between my legs like that, I can feel the massive bulge of his cock through the thin fabric of our clothes.
Heat sears my skin, and I suddenly become acutely aware that Jace is naked except for his underwear.
I try to yank my hands out of his grip and wiggle out from underneath him, but it only makes me grind my hips against his.
Another wave of heat pulses through me.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jace demands above me.
I scowl up at him, desperately praying that the heat I can feel radiating from my cheeks isn’t visible in the gloomy light. “What does it look like? I’m trying to get you off me.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” He gives me a flat look. “I meant with the air horn.”
My gaze drifts towards the canister now resting against the leg of the bed a short distance from us. Oh. Right. That. Well, uhm…
While taking an extra second to look at the air horn, I scramble to come up with a scathing remark. But it’s annoyingly difficult when I’m hyperaware of how his cock is pressed between my legs.
At last settling on something, I turn my gaze back to him and arch a haughty eyebrow. “You were late. My usual bodyguard would be up by now.”
He scoffs and flashes me a smile full of challenge. “No, he wouldn’t. Because you get up at six, and your bodyguards always get up at a quarter to six.”
Surprise flits through me.
His smile turns into a smirk as he raises an eyebrow. “I’ve memorized your schedule, remember?”
Yanking against his hands, I squirm underneath him again while shooting him a vicious glare. “Just get off me.”
“No.”
I stare up at him incredulously. “What?”
“First, you’re going to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For sneaking into my bedroom uninvited and blaring an air horn in my face.” He tuts and shakes his head. “That’s a very rude thing to do, little demon.”
Anger flickers through me, and I struggle against his hold yet again. “First of all, this is my apartment. I don’t need permission to enter any of the rooms in it. So if I want to be in your bed?—”
“You want to be in my bed?” he interrupts, and gives me one of those damn smirks that makes my heart flip.
“Bedroom,” I snap, once more trying to block out the embarrassment with fury. “I was going to say bedroom.”
“Sure you were.”
“God fucking damn it!” I yank and squirm against him furiously. “Just let me up.”
“Apologize.”
“Like hell!”
“Then I guess we’re staying right here.”
A snarl rips from my throat, and I struggle hard on the floor. But my wrists might as well be locked to the ground with metal shackles. No matter how much I try to pull my arms down from where he keeps them trapped above my head, his hands around my wrists don’t move a single inch.
I buck my hips, trying to throw his body off me.
My pussy grinds against his cock.
I draw in a sharp breath between my teeth as a jolt shoots through me.
Above me, Jace watches me with glittering brown eyes while amusement plays over his lips.
Another snarl tears from my chest.
“Apologize,” he orders, that wicked smirk still on his face.
I clench my jaw. “No.”
“I can do this all day.”
“I’ll miss class.”
“That’s not my problem. My job is to guard you.”
My heart jerks as he abruptly leans down and slants his lips over mine, just shy of touching. I suck in an unsteady breath while heat pools at my core.
“And I can do that just fine from right here,” he finishes, every word like a caress over my mouth.
The feeling of his breath on my lips like that and his solid weight between my spread legs and his hands pinning my wrists to the floor make my heart pound in my chest. Absolutely insane images flash through my mind. But before I can dwell too much on them, Jace pulls back as abruptly as he leaned down.
Still keeping me trapped underneath him, he cocks his head and gives me a smug look full of challenge. “Now, apologize.”
I grind my teeth as I glare up at him in silence. But if the past few minutes have taught me anything, it’s that I won’t be getting off this floor unless he lets me. Forcing out an annoyed sigh, I break eye contact and instead tilt my head to stare out at the rest of the room.
“Sorry,” I press out.
“Eyes on me.” The sheer command in his voice sends a pulse through me.
I drag my gaze back to his. Then I have to draw in a bracing breath before I manage to repeat, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
Disbelief clangs through me. He can’t be fucking serious? I stare up at him with wide eyes.
He just smirks at me. Challenge dances in his eyes like tiny flames as he holds my stare.
When he does nothing to indicate that he was joking, I blurt out, “You can’t be serious!”
“You give me shit, and I’ll give you shit.” He tightens his grip on my wrists and levels a hard stare at me. “So we can either make each other’s lives hell, or we can be civil. Your choice.”
I grind my teeth and glare up at him. But Jace doesn’t budge. I force out a long, calming breath that does absolutely nothing to calm the wildfire in my veins. Then I at last press out the words he wants to hear.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
His eyes gleam, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Good choice.”
I’m pretty sure a growl slips past my lips.
With that smirk still in place, he slides a very deliberate look down my body. Another wave of heat ripples through me. Then he at long last releases my wrists and climbs off me.
The moment his weight is off my body, I push up into a sitting position. Jace, who is already on his feet, reaches down and offers me his hand to help me up. I slap it away.
Shooting to my feet on my own, I cast him a sharp look before stalking back to my own room.
We can make each other’s lives hell, or we can be civil.
Arrogant fucking bastard. He forced me to apologize and made me address him as sir.
I will be fucking dead before he ever sees any civility from me.