The next day, you slept in. You always did. It wasn't like you had to get up for a job or anything like that. Sometimes, you couldn't help but wonder what life would be like if your family was normal. Would you be happier? But thinking about stuff like that was pointless either way, and since it was sunny outside, you decided to spend your day at the big pool in your backyard, enjoying the positive sides of being rich.
Ghost spotted you as you left your room, unconsciously clenching his jaw as you walked past him in that tiny bikini. God, you really had no sense of decency, or maybe you were just some kind of exhibitionist. Not that you were hard on the eyes, it was quite the opposite.
You spent nearly the whole day at the pool, working on a tan that no one would get to see. As the sun went down, you deemed it late enough for a glass of wine. Your father was not fond of you drinking; your attitude, as he called it, increased tenfold as soon as you got a little tipsy. But he wasn't here, so you sneakily fetched a bottle of white wine from your father's wine cellar, taking two of the glasses he kept there.
Just in case.
Your requirements for wine were clear: sweet, and making you drunk. Back at the pool, you poured yourself a glass, your eyes landing on the label. Oh, that was an expensive one, your father would not be happy about you drinking it. You made a mental note to discard the empty bottle somewhere he would not see it.
Ghost stood at the patio door, watching you from afar. Why did you have to look so damn hot in that bikini? That wasn't fair. Yes, he got paid to keep an eye on you, but not in that way. And you being so distracting was also interfering with him gathering information about your father.
"What are you doing? He asked loud enough for you to hear him all the way over the patio and to the pool.
"Enjoying my evening," you replied with one of your beauty pageant smiles. "You want a glass? I won't tell my dad, promise," you said with a laugh.
Ghost took a step outside the house, closing the patio door behind him. It was a tempting offer, and the sound of your voice was equal parts annoying and arousing. So much about you was exactly that, grating his nerves and turning him on at the same time. It was infuriating.
"Just one," he said with a stern tone, as if he was doing you a favor by accepting a glass of wine.
"How nice of you," you said mockingly as you handed him a glass, leaning back in your lounger to watch the sunset. Your house was located on the hillside in a bit of a secluded part of town; your father had carefully selected the area when you moved there a few years ago. It was not easy for you to sneak out.
Even though you didn't look at Ghost, you could feel his gaze on your body, secretly smirking at yourself. He leaned back in the lounger next to you, wishing to himself that he hadn't taken you up on that offer with the glass of wine, his mind running crazy with thoughts he shouldn't be having.
In any other scenario, he would have already pinned you against a wall or bent you over the kitchen counter by now, but he had a job to do, and apart from that, you were an annoying little dipshit. A hot one, unfortunately.
You still didn't look at him when he started to speak.
"So, what happened to your last few bodyguards? You killed them all for getting touchy?"
His question forced a laugh out of you, and it took you a second to calm down enough to answer him.
"God, no. Do I look like some kind of dangerous monster?" You laughed, turning to look at him, with eyes that screamed fake innocence. Every time he took a sip of his wine and shoved his mask up in the process, you felt like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. Maybe you were wrong, maybe he wasn't ugly beneath that mask.
"You do," Ghost mumbled, trying hard not to be obvious while checking you out, wondering what the reason was for him being the fifth bodyguard in just a year, according to your father.
"Let's just say my father made them quit," You laughed quietly. Your habit of eating bodyguards for breakfast was the source of more than one big fight with your dad. But what did he expect when he locked you up in that house, all to yourself, accompanied only by grumpy, muscular men?
Your words made Ghost raise his eyebrow. He smirked, adjusting himself on the lounger.
"And now? You're going to try playing your little games with me? Good luck with that," he said as he looked away from you, eyes on the setting sun. The way you sat there, the way you looked in that bikini; it was too distracting.
"Maybe. Could be fun," you teased, liking that he didn't give in so quickly. You weren't used to men not being at your feet the second you gave them the tiniest sliver of attention, but maybe that was exactly what you needed. Ghost was intrigued by your words, your charm, and that body of yours was just the cherry on top.
"I'm not falling for your games, your tricks won't work on me," he responded.
"We'll see, big boy."
"Stop calling me that." His tone was stern, but the way his lips twitched told you that he was having a hard time holding back a smirk. He really didn't like what you were doing to him.
"Just look at you. You are a big boy. Tall, and all those muscles..." You grinned, your eyes wandering all over his body. Even though he wore suits most of the time, especially when your father was around, it was clear that a beast of a man was hidden beneath the fabric.
Sometimes he wore casual stuff, jeans, and a plain shirt, but your favorite days were the ones where you caught a glimpse of him training in your home gym; the sight of him in gray sweatpants and a black compression shirt almost made you weak in the knees.
While you were busy mentally undressing him, Ghost was praying to every god and deity he knew that you would stop being such a tease. And for a second, it seemed like his prayers were answered because you got up, taking your glass of wine with you as you walked inside.
You smirked to yourself, feeling his gaze on your ass. He couldn't help but stare; in the end, he was only human. Not only did his eyes wander, his mind did as well, wondering what the rest of you looked like beneath that bikini—not that it left much to the imagination.
"Where are you going?" He regretted the words as soon as he spoke them.
Where are you going? Wow, how pathetic did he want to appear?
"To my room, taking a shower. You wanna watch? Join?" You yelled back outside with a grin while you walked to your room. You put your glass down on the kitchen counter and untied the band of your bikini top with one hand just a second before you were out of his field of vision.
You did not expect to hear his heavy footsteps following you to your bathroom, but it was a pleasant surprise.
"What if I do want to watch?" His voice came from behind you, his mind already filled with thoughts so dirty that a shower wouldn't be enough to wash them away.
