Page 115 of Hide and Keep

“That’s not it,” I’m quick to say. “I’m just learning.”

This time Kota lets Ever turn her head my way. Two sets of black-outlined eyes blink at me.

“Are you interested in becoming a hairdresser?” Kota questions.

“No. I just wanna be able to do this…” Fingers spread, I wave my hand over Ever’s hair. “By myself. If I have to.”

Kota and Ever exchange their own side-eyes.

“Do you have any colleagues you can recommend? I think I’d like having a bodyguard.”

“Personal protection agent.”

Ever snorts. “Don’t you have a stepbrother to protect you now?”

“What if he’s the one I need protection from?”

“Do you?”

“Are you in danger, miss?” I ask Kota. I don’t know of any other personal protection agents but I could call…Ronny, maybe. I’m not sure how great of terms we’re on after that awkward sobriety test, but as a police officer, it’s his job to serve and protect. At least that’s what it said on the side of his cruiser.

“No. No. Khaos is just…” Kota sighs. “Vexing.”

“Then you can imagine how much worse it’d be having a bodyguard. They give you zero privacy.”

I scowl at the side of Ever’s face as she returns to her previous position of facing the tent wall, cradling her green rock in both hands. Zero privacy? After our run together last night, I gave her two uninterrupted hours in the butterfly conservatory, then she spent the rest of the night in her room, also alone.

“Who needs privacy when you have a man that can do your hair?”

Kota elbows me, but I shake my head. I’m not Ever’s man and I can’t do hair.

While Kota said it jokingly, there’s no humor in Ever’s tone when she says, “I do.”

I don’t fucking get her. First, she went out of her way to try to make me quit. Then, she reprimanded Paris, embarrassed Eighmey, and didsomethingto Johanna, because according to Ever Munreaux, I’m hers. Her bodyguard. Her prop. Hers. I’m not a bodyguard and I’m nobody’s prop but…

But being hers…

It doesn’t matter because now she’s back to acting like she’d give anything to get rid of me.

Until someone else comes sniffing around my cock, then I’m sure she’ll be pulling that “mine” shit all over again.

I don’t care. As long as that money’s hitting my bank account regularly, I don’t give a fuck what she calls me. I’m already answering to Major.

“Can you show me how to do the bow again?” I ask Kota before pulling out my phone and setting it to Video.

I’m trying to record Kota repeating the same motions as before just slower, her palms lifted to show me under the bow, her fingers twisted up in its band, but Ever’s hand rubbing at her throat keeps distracting me. She hasn’t gotten any new hickeys since I put up the sensors in her room, and the old ones have already faded significantly. Soon she’ll be a pristine canvas, nobody’s mark on her whatsoever.

Not even mine.

Once Kota’s finished, I kneel down in front of Ever to cover her tattoo with black tape that’s more noticeable than the ink itself, smoothing out the tape more times than necessary. The skin my fingers graze pebbles, making me wonder about the state of her nipples. Are they hard? Does she need them covered with tape, too? That’s something I could do for her.

That’s something I want to do for her. Very much. Except I’ll just skip the tape and use my tongue.

I glance up, finding my protectee watching me closely.

Fuck. I have to get a grip, preferably of my cock later to release some of this goddamn buildup. I’m as horny as Ever all of a sudden.

“Got it?” she asks.

---