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“Damn, I didn’t know there was such a demand for golden birds. Seems like serving greasy burgers and refilling bitter coffee was the wrong job choice,” I joked, making him laugh softly.
“A job you will not have to do ever again.” I frowned at this.
“Not that I love the job or anything, hence why I applied for this bogus job, but that doesn’t mean that I will be happy to just give up working at all because you want to keep me safe,” I said wryly, but then he bumped my shoulder, at the same time reminding me,
“Prisoner, remember?”
“Seriously?”
His reply first came in the form of taking a deep breath, and I didn’t exactly think it meant good things for me.
“I admit, it is not the ideal situation I had in mind and had our circumstances been different, then perhaps you would have trusted me enough to choose to stay.”
“Ryker…” I said his name in a soft reprimand because talking about me being his prisoner and explaining the reasons why came far too easy for him. However, he promptly ignored my softly spoken protest and continued regardless.
“…But the reality remains and therefore so does the outcome. You are to remain by my side, Little Bird, and that also means that you are my responsibility to care for…”
At this I quickly interrupted him, despite what good it did me.
“But…”
“No, there are no buts, Evie,” he stated firmly as he got to his feet.
“You can’t possibly believe that I would…”
Once more he didn’t let me finish. “Now I will, of course, allow you your personal space.”
“Oh jee, thanks,” I muttered sarcastically, something he promptly ignored.
“And we can date, as you suggested.” My mouth dropped again.
“Okay, but I was…”
“But in doing so, you will not work, you will be cared for, and you will be guarded all twenty-four hours of the day.”
I gasped at the audacity of it all. Which was why I was now the one to stomp to my feet and fold my arms to stop myself from strangling his handsome neck!
Jesus, how can a neck even be handsome? I didn’t know the answer, I just knew that his was.
“And what’s next? Someone going to be there while I wipe my ass?!” I shouted, hitting my limit.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” he snapped.
“Good, great, fabulous… in that case, you won’t mind me just taking myself off to the ladies room now then, would you?” I retorted before storming to the door and waiting there with my hands on my hips. I was also taking this time to hold my breath and silently pray he would make a decision quickly before I was made to continue to stand here and look like a fool. Of course, this time when I heard the sigh of defeat, I hoped it was in my favor.
“Alright, Little One, I will yield.”
Yield… just who was this guy? I mean, who even said that this side of the 21st century. Strangely, I heard the door unlock despite feeling him at my back, making me wonder if he had remote for it or something else pointlessly high-tech and fancy. I reached for the handle, one that was quickly covered by Ryker’s hand as his arm came around me. I naturally shifted to the side a little, only to have his other hand rest at my hip, holding me still so I couldn’t put space between us.
Just the feel of his fingers applying slight pressure there on my flesh made me wish it was naked skin to naked skin, with nothing between us. However, the moment he opened the door, I quickly bent down to retrieve my jacket that was still on the floor and ended up putting my ass into his crotch. That was when both hands held firm on my hips, and I didn’t know if this was to steady me or to ensure I didn’t move away too quickly.
Although by the feel of things, I would say it was the second. The considerable hard length I could feel prodding into the crack of my cheeks was unmistakable.
“Gods, have mercy on me, Little Bird,” he growled, making me blush before quickly straightening and stepping away from him, leaving his hands now empty of my flesh and fisting at his sides because of it.
I decided it was definitely for the best if I put my jacket back on, especially with the way his eyes were roaming down my body. It was enough to make me worry that I was going to have to start fanning myself. That or just outright turning into some black and white movie star, placing the back of my hand to my forehead before fainting gracefully. Oh, who was I kidding? If I were to faint, I would most likely land like a sack of potatoes, tear the rest of my skirt, and pop some skirt buttons that become projectiles powerful enough to take his eyes out.
Well, at least I was still wearing the sweater. But what turned out to be even more of a Godsend was that the jacket was long enough that it hid the indecent exposure of my thigh, thanks to the split in my cheap secondhand skirt.
