Page 75 of Hide and Keep

The bats didn’t have any interest in him anyway, only bugs, so why is he so damn butthurt?

Because he was bested by a girl? He should get used to that now. I’ve done it before—we’re sitting in the pink-flamed proof—and I’ll probably do it many, many more times before his stay at Munreaux Manor concludes.

Or was it because said besting made him look like an incompetent idiot? Well, he is. And technically, he did that himself when he researched how to be a bodyguard his first night being a bodyguard.

Now at my door, Crue’s waiting for me to exit.

“I need help putting my shoes on,” I say.

His gaze drops to mine, incredulity written across his features without him even needing to open his mouth.

“What? I’m serious. I can’t get it. They’re…” I act like I can’t reach the right foot, then do the same thing with the left one. “Ugh. My skirt’s too tight.”

“Go barefoot.”

He returns his attention elsewhere. Anywhere but near me.

“I can’t do that.”

He gives no response, as if I didn’t even speak.

“It’s your job to protect me, isn’t it? What if there’s a screw on the ground?”

Crue examines the driveway halfheartedly but doesn’t budge.

“Then I guess you’re carrying me inside,allthe way up to my room.”

Shaking his head, he breaks posture to snatch a shoe from my grasp.

My triumphant smirk dies the moment his hand wraps around my right ankle and yanks my foot off the floor, forcing me to rotate in the seat toward him to accommodate the odd angle. My left leg stays where it is though and I don’t rush to close my legs, so I’m as spread eagle as my tight skirt allows, my panties rubbing against my suddenly aching center.

Crue either doesn’t notice as he jams the expensive stiletto on my foot, his eyes glued to the ankle strap like it’s some sort of puzzle, or he’s pretending not to.

“Second hole.”

That gaze flies to my crotch before slowly rising to my face, his nostrils flaring with each labored exhale.

He was pretending.

And I’m wet, picturing him looking at my pussy without the barrier. Admiring it. Flicking it with his tongue, his lips, his entire fucking face as I hold him to—

“What?” he snaps, breaking the fantasy before I soak my underwear straight through.

“The prong goes in the second hole on the strap.”

It takes him several tries and even more curses, but he finally gets the shoe secured before moving on to my left foot, except I don’t lift my leg for him, so he has to reach over my lap to get it himself. The side of his face only inches from mine, I spy a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

The temptation too strong, I catch it with the side of my thumb.

Suddenly, there’s a great pressure just under my palm.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” Crue grits out, his hand squeezing my wrist.

I hadn’t even noticed. I was so absorbed.

Sticking the thumb in my mouth, I suck it clean.

“Mm,” I moan around the tiny blast of salt against my tongue, my eyes fluttering closed. “If your sweat tastes this good, I can only imagine what your…” I open my eyes to find Crue’s locked on mine. “Tears taste like. You might just make a worthy opponent after all, Major.”

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