5. Ruby
It’s already late morning when I wake up. Probably more like early noon. But I have nothing to attend to, no job where I need to be, and I sincerely don’t want to listen to James bitching in the early hours of the day.
The sun is blinding outside, and I decide to spend the day at the pool. Remembering James” comments about my outfit yesterday I rummage through my drawers, looking for the tiniest bikini I can find.
After a while, I get a hold of one that I usually wear for tanning. A tiny triangle top and bottoms that Sarah called “dental floss” when I bought them on one of our shopping trips.
Sometimes I miss spending time with her, but then I look at my phone and see the countless ignored messages.
I put on my bikini and throw an oversized shirt on before I grab a big towel and my necessities for a day at the pool, and make my way down the stairs. Upon seeing me, James shakes his head like a disapproving grandma. And he hasn’t even seen my bikini yet. This is going to be good.
I try to ignore the fact that provoking James isn’t the only reason for my outfit.
While he is a humongous asshole and the biggest killjoy I have ever met, he’s still fucking hot. Muscular thighs that would make a wonderful seat, a slim waist and broad shoulders. Tall, and with arms so big that I’m pretty sure that both of my hands wouldn’t be able to wrap around them.
And those are not just pretty muscles to show off. It’s obvious that there’s pure strength inside of him. I noticed it when he almost ripped my arm clean off on the first night.
What slightly pisses me off is that he seems so uninterested in me. I know it sounds vain, maybe even a bit egocentric, but the last few bodyguards made it pretty clear that they found me attractive from the get-go. Most men I meet do this, in varying degrees of creepiness.
But James doesn’t, not in the slightest. It’s the opposite. He doesn’t even look at me and when he does, he’s pulling a face like I’m a pile of dog shit at a park. Well, at least the minuscule part of his face that I can see. It messes with my self-esteem and I don’t like it.
As I put my things on a lounger by the pool, I notice that he deliberately turned his back towards the open terrace door. I spread out my towel and get comfortable.
The day goes by in a blur. I’m reading for most of it, turning from my stomach on my back, hopping in the pool to cool down and get back to tanning again, interrupted by dozing off every few hours. It’s wonderful and I have to admit that my father’s wealth definitely has its perks.
James does his best to not look out here. He keeps on sitting in his chair for half the day, switches between staring into his phone, into his laptop, and into the void, and then he vanishes, probably towards the gym, judging by his outfit.
The sun is already setting, making it uncomfortable to continue reading my book. Since James is nowhere to be seen, seemingly far enough away for me to have at least a bit of freedom, I decide to get myself a glass of wine.
My father doesn’t like it when I drink. My attitude, as he calls it, admittedly increases as soon as I’m a little tipsy. It got me into a bit of a hassle with the son of one of his business partners a few years ago, but the creep just couldn’t keep his hands to himself and I didn’t want to accept that.
I sneak off towards the wine cellar. It’s more of a small wine shed, located slightly hidden in the garden. Chills wash over my body as soon as I enter, even though I pulled my shirt back on for the short walk.
A bottle of white wine near the entrance calls my name and I take it with me. The label is pretty, and that is honestly the only information I need to pick out my wine. Like a real sommelier.
I rush back to the pool before James sees that I’m gone and gets all hysterical. But he’s still nowhere to be seen. Now that I’m no longer close to freezing to death, I take a better look at the bottle I brought.
Okay, this one is expensive. I make a mental note to discard the empty bottle somewhere my father won’t see it. The wine may be expensive, but a sip from the bottle confirms it’s not sweet at all.
I sneak inside the house to get a glass, a bit of syrup, and sparkling water. Makes even the driest wine drinkable.
Just when I walk back outside, a deep voice catches my attention. James stands in the middle of the living room, a towel around his neck, and I try really hard not to stare at the imprint of his dick on his sweatpants. He clears his throat and I force myself to look somewhere else.
“What are you doing?”
“Enjoying my evening,” I answer. The attention-starved part of my brain takes over as I walk back out on the patio, turning around to him again halfway to my lounger. “You want a glass?”
He hesitates for a second and I’m sure that this is a no as I put my glass on the ground and lay down on my lounger.
“One,” he grumbles, acting like he is doing me a favor by accepting my offer. Which is kind of the embarrassing truth.
“Fine. Then bring one with you.”
He comes over with a water glass in his hand and I want to chuckle, but then I remember that I just drank straight from the bottle, also not very classy.
I don’t offer him syrup or sparkling water. I bet he likes to drink his wine the boring way and if that isn’t the case, he’s free to add stuff on his own. I won’t start behaving like I’m his servant, no matter how much I want him to fucking look at me.
From here, we have a wonderful view of the sunset. Clouds of red and pink dance over the sky. They reflect in the pool and bathe the entire patio in a beautiful light. At least the secluded hillside location of our house is good for anything, apart from having no nosy neighbors and keeping me from easily running off.
James takes the lounger to my right and we sit together in silence for a few minutes until he looks down at the pile of my stuff in between us.
“You read?”
“Is that so surprising?”
“A bit,” he says, shuffling on his lounger. His thick thighs are spread apart and I wonder how it would feel to be between them. “Doesn’t match those shows you’re always watching.”
“Can’t a girl have more than one interest?” I retort, but there’s no real venom in my voice. Looks like the wine doesn’t make me snippy tonight, but forgiving.
And horny, I realize every time my eyes wander up to his crotch. I have the self-control of a creepy middle-aged guy at Hooters and I’m slightly horrified at myself.
“Just proves that you’re horribly prejudiced,” I say as I finally manage to avert my gaze back to the sunset.
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
“Apology accepted,” I say with a smile. At least he apologized. And I really can’t blame him for thinking about me like this. I didn’t exactly show him my best side the past two days.
“What happened to your last bodyguard?”
“My father killed him, didn’t he tell you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m just joking,” I laugh, “my father fired him.”
“Why’s that?”
“Liked me a bit too much.”
“Hard to believe,” he says, forcing a laugh out of me.
“Stop acting like I’m some kind of horrible monster. I swear I’m nice,” I say as I turn around to look at him. His balaclava is shoved up, exposing the lower half of his face as he drinks his wine, and I almost choke on mine. Maybe I was wrong, and he doesn’t wear the mask because he’s hideous underneath.
“You are,” he replies dryly.
“What? Nice? Or a monster?”
He takes a sip from his wine, crossing his feet on the lounger. “The latter.”
“I’m not. My presence is a pleasure from what I’ve heard.”
“Who said that?”
“Many people say that,” I grumble.
“All that I saw from you so far makes me think you’re only a pleasure to be around when you’re asleep or when you leave a room.”
“Asshole,” I snort. “You know how to charm a girl.”
“I’d rather shoot myself than charm you.”
“We both know that”s a lie,” I say, grinning at him.
He sits up straight, his gaze fixed on my face as I speak. Not once does he look down on my body, and it’s making me furious.
“A bit self-absorbed to act like everyone would fall for your doe eyes and your pretty face, don’t you think?”
Oh my God, he called me pretty.
“So did I get this right, you fucked all of your past bodyguards?” he asks bluntly, and I almost choke on my wine for the second time this evening. So much for too much information.
“Maybe. Jealous?”
He laughs again, one of those deep belly laughs and I feel my cheeks getting red.
“I’m just joking,” I backpedal, feeling slightly humiliated. I don’t know why I am offended by him thinking I’m not able to pull anyone.
“Nothing more than chaste cuddling with the hands over the blanket.”
It’s not the whole truth but getting my pussy eaten is barely more than a hug, and this and sparse cuddling are really the only things I did with them. Not even kissing. I’m weird when it comes to kissing, that’s just one intimate step too far.
“Ruby,” he says as he puts his half-empty glass down on the ground. “Just so that we’re clear, no. Whatever you’re thinking. No. You won’t play your dumb little games with me.”
“We’ll see,” I whisper into my glass.
“We won’t,” he replies, and I’m surprised that he even heard me. “Any funny business, and I’ll get a restraining order.”
Open-mouthed, I turn to look at him, only to see the tiniest hint of a smile dancing over his lips.
“As if.”
Why is my goddamn heart beating so fast? That’s ridiculous and I decide I need to leave this situation before I get even more humbled by James.
Which God made this man so hot and disinterested. It’s plain unfair, I think to myself as I get up from my lounger, clutching my wine glass harder than necessary. I wish I had eyes on the back of my head to see if he’s looking at my ass while I walk away.
“Where are you going?” he asks loudly as I’m back inside the house while he keeps on sitting outside.
“To my room, taking a shower. You wanna watch? Join?”
“Restraining order,” he shouts and I can’t help but laugh as I open my bikini top with my free hand. It lands on the marble floor with a wet thud and I don’t check if James is watching.
I just tell myself that he does, because I have to keep the last bit of my ego intact.