Page 24 of A Guard and a Gardener

“You’re not wearing any clothes, little one,” Jiron said warningly as he lazed back on the pillow, one arm tucked behind his head.

I liked the tone he used.

It saidyou’re your own man, but you’re mine too.

It saidI’m hella protective of you so only I get to see you naked.

It saidwear my shirt, Wyatt, because that will make me want to ravage you again with that huge, fat cock of mine.

“Okay,” I said obligingly and swiped it from the floor, slipping my arms through the billowing sleeves and tugging the laces together in a quick knot. The fabric immediately slipped down over one shoulder, far too large to remain in place no matter how tightly I tied it up.

Jiron stared at me.

“You’re drooling, daddy,” I pointed out smugly, not entirely untruthfully. He was wearing an open-mouthed, slack-jawed expression, his eyes dark and lidded.

My giant was so stoic when around others, and I loved that I could bring his emotions to the surface and lay them bare for me to revel in and for him to appreciate that not everything was better kept stifled and hidden.

“Hurry,” he growled out. “Hurry up and answer the damn door so you can get back in here.” He patted the bed beside one of his hairy, muscular thighs.

I grinned, shimmying the ends of the sleeves back up past my wrists and making sure to inject a flourish to my spin as I turnedaround so the shirt would briefly ride up over my hips. From the rapid inhale I heard behind me, I succeeded.

Would he fuck me in it? Would he ask me to ride him while I-

“Oh,” I said, blinking at the man standing on the other side of my door when I tugged it open. Jiron’s sword rested in its sheath on his tattered belt. “What are you...”

“Wyatt,” Macario snarled. “Get your ass dressed and give me your key.”

“My...key?”

“To this place,” he said, shrugging his shoulders to indicate where we stood. “I’m going to take care of it while you get me my money. Consider it incentive.”

“If you need somewhere to live, Mac, I can ask-”

“Key.Now.”

“I...” I frowned and shook my head. My loose hair cascaded over my shoulders; one covered, the other bare. “I don’t think…”

I yelped as Macario wrapped a meaty hand around my neck.

“Wyatt, I’ve fucking had it with you. You’re-”

His brown eyes widened and he stepped back towards the stairwell, hastily letting go. Another hand touched me but this time it was a reassuring weight: a gentle squeeze of my exposed left shoulder, a closeness of Jiron’s body against my back.

“What the fuck?” Mac demanded, his face drawn into an angry snarl. “Why ishehere? You hired him as your Blessed guard or something?”

“Macario Aiza,” said Jiron in a low, dangerous voice, tugging me back against him. I could feel the warmth of his skin through the borrowed shirt, and realised he was wearing even less than I was. “You should leave, andpromptly.”

Mac sneered at him, far more fearless than he had been yesterday in the park. “You can’t tell me what to do. This is between me and mine.”

The breath left me as I was suddenly scooped up from the floor, lifted effortlessly into Jiron’s massive arms.

“He’s not yours,” Jiron said shortly, naked and clearly not giving a shit. Mac’s gaze dropped to between my daddy’s legs and his eyes widened, making me smirk.

Jiron took a step into the hallway. He moved with deadly calm. “And I don’t give second chances.”

Yet Macario still didn’t run away like he had that first time. He just offered a cocky twist of his lip and stamped his foot against the floor twice in quick succession. “Neither do I,” he crowed as two burly men almost as big and mean as him swelled up the stairs towards us. “Figured we’d be breaking down a door if little Wyatt wasn’t feeling cooperative, but I’m happy to put them to work breaking your jaw instead.”

He dragged his eyes back to mine. “And when your newprotectoris lying in a pool of his own piss and blood, regretting the day he ever let you bat those pretty eyelashes of yours at him to drag him into your mess, will you just find another man to cling to?”

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