Page 39 of Vengeful Guard

That was a longer day than I’d originally intended. I’m beat.

By the time I get home, it’s almost eleven at night. I unlock the door, go inside, and head to the living room, hoping to unwind for a bit.

Kael is stretched out on my sectional, snoring softly.

I glance over at him, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s not wearing a shirt. Again.

Does he ever wear one inside the house? Because it seems like he doesn’t.

Why is that? Is that a man thing or just a Kael thing?

I can’t help my eyes roving over his body. His chest broad as it heaves with his slow breathing, his abdominal muscles contracting.

What would they feel like under my fingers? Would he shudder if I ran my hand down them?

Oh, my god, Paige. Stop it.

I shake my head, groaning.

You need to get laid.

But how? How would I even plan something like that?

I was already sheltered before the attack. Now that I’m living with my own watch dog? There’s no way I’ll ever be able to find someone to lose my virginity with.

And the worst part is, at home, I was always too ashamed to even touch myself. Too self-conscious. And since I moved here, well, let’s just say the attack isn’t something that put me in the mood.

I’ve talked about sex. With my sister, with Bree, with Sophie.

Sophie even mentioned her toys, talks about using them.

I pretend I know what she’s talking about, but I have no idea.

Sex and orgasms for me are almost like myths. I’ve heard tales, both amazing and terrifying. But I’ve never been able to experience either.

Maybe I’m broken. Maybe sex just isn’t for me.

But then, why do I want it so much?

I sigh as I walk up the stairs, undressing quickly and plopping in my bed.

It was nice, going out with Lara. I’ve been cooped up since the attack, and I guess I needed to get out because I do feel better.

Maybe I’ll actually be able to sleep tonight.

I close my eyes, praying to be lucky two nights in a row.

Knocking on my door pulls me out of my sleep.

As I rouse, I look up.

Kael stands in the doorway, looking down at me.

“You sleeping?” His voice’s husky.

“I was," I grumble, sitting up and wiping my sleepy eyes.

“Sorry." His hand goes to the back of his neck, his eyes on mine. Unwavering. Unrepentant.

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