“Stop.”
He didn’t stop.
I reached for his phone, but he moved out of my way.
I kicked at his feet then tripped into his arms. My hands got caught next to his cock trapping me against him and with his arms high overhead and his body pressed against the breakfast bar.
Slowly, he stared down at my hands. “That’s not on my list; I think you have to pay extra for favors.”
Before I could stop it, a nervous chill ran down my spine. “Oh good, a food taster and a eunuch.”
He snorted out a laugh and leaned in. “I’m not a eunuch, you prude. Now kindly remove your hand from my dick before I report you to your dad.”
"And what would you report? Hmmm?”
"Insolent.” He shoved me away. “And irritating.”
“Then why are you here!” I yelled. “Why are you the one guarding me if you don’t even want to be here?”
“Because.” He lifted his chin. “I’m the only one who was willing to take it on.”
"It?”
“The job. You,” he rasped. “The burden of guarding you. I was the only one who said yes.” He shoved past me. “Thank me later. It’s time for class.”
He didn’t see the tear that slid down my cheek.
I wiped it too fast.
The human eye can't see or feel a stomach drop the way mine did, it wasn’t fast either; it was this slow painful descent like my body was just realizing that nobody wanted me—not even a paid guard.
My head jerked up. “Ace?”
"Five minutes. What?”
"He was paid too." It was a statement, one I needed him to kindly reject.
"All your bodyguards are on payroll.” He truly lacked the ability to read the room.
“And if I slept with him?” I asked.
"A finger,” Ace said, his reply almost polite.
"What?”
"A pound of flesh, starting with a finger,” he said. “For defying your father’s rules.”
"And those would be?”
"Touch her and die.”
I hung my head. “And he did.”
“Are you saying your own family killed him?”
“No,” I whispered. “I’m saying I probably did.”
8