Page 5 of Don’t Fall For A Bodyguard

I tugged on my ring, but it wouldn’t budge. Shit.

“We need soap,” I explained. “Or oil.”

“I tried soap in the shower, and it didn’t work,” Payton sighed, and then his face suddenly lit up. “Oh, I have lube! That'll work.”

Jesus, I didn’t dare think about Payton pouring lube over his hand. And what he might do with said hand after that.

“Can we focus on finding a lawyer first?” I bit out. “Done is done after all, ring or not.”

“True.” He nodded and sauntered over to the closet, opening the door. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” I looked around for my pants. They were on the chair on the other side of the room. Which meant I’d have to walk across the room naked or with this fucking pillow to cover myself. “Can you turn around?”

“Can you be serious?” He scoffed and dropped his towel.

I thought his ass in tight denim or pink satin was sexy, but bare? Oh, baby. It was high and tight, two sweet handfuls of perfection.Ngh. And he was standing three feet away from me. I was half hard and growing harder with every passing second.

Fuck it. If he didn’t care, why should I? So, what if I had a hard-on? It was a perfectly normal reaction.

I put the pillow aside and got up, stalking over to the bathroom, not daring to look back to see if the blond brat was watching me. This morning was so weird. I was never self-conscious about my body. And not around anyone I’d slept with. Well, technically, Payton and I hadn’t had sex. We just cuddled in bed.

Shaking my head, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I couldn’t stop staring at my hand. At how right the ring looked on my finger.

I’m still drunk.

No. I was hungover, not drunk. My eyes were bloodshot, my face pale. My beard was growing in fast, but I couldn’t be bothered shaving. So, I turned on the water in the shower as hot as it would go and then took my time scrubbing down.

Clean, and now mostly awake, I grabbed a white bath towel to wrap around my hips.

When I stepped back into the bedroom, my eyes locked on Payton standing in front of the window. And holy shit, he was dressed to kill in neon pink jeans, a gold mesh top, and stiletto booties that showcased his long, lean body to full effect. My cock was liking the view way too much.

Payton turned around and when I glanced at his face—the dark eyeliner that made his eyes look brighter, and the slick lip gloss—there was nothing I could do to hide the fact that my dick was tenting my towel.

“We have a problem,” he stated, his eyes roaming down my body.

“Another one?” I replied and quickly walked over to the chair to grab my briefs, pants, and shirt. “Can’t we deal with our wedding fiasco first?”

“Brodie and the guys are waiting in the restaurant downstairs.”

“What? Why?” I asked.

“They want to take us out for a celebratory brunch.”

“Oh my God. Why didn’t you tell them what really happened?”

“I tried to,” Payton chuckled and sauntered towards me. “We might as well get all the teasing over with at once. Plus, I’m sure they know a good lawyer.”

“Elias Kain,” I blurted out and smacked my forehead.

“Who?”

“Wayward’s lawyer. God, I’m fucking slow on the uptake this morning. Anyway, I’m sure Elias can deal with our—” I paused; the remaining word stuck in my throat. “Divorce. Or he can refer us.”

I reached for my briefs, slid them on under my towel, and then threw the towel aside. Payton stood there, watching me get dressed. My hands started to shake, my cool, calm bodyguard demeanor nowhere to be found. And, of course, my cock was still fucking hard.

I tried three times to get my fly zipped. On the fourth try, Payton stepped up to me, pushed my shaky hands aside, zipped me up, and patted my abs. That didn’t help my poor dick at all.

“You didn’t need to do that,” I whispered.