His eyes were alight with victorious satisfaction. “Sure, babe. Whatever you need.”
I may not have taken Jett’s ass tonight, but at two in the morning, with both of us struggling to keep our eyes open, I finally took his king.
And it was somehow almost as satisfying.
20
JETT
Everything changedwhen people started arriving.
By the time I woke up the next morning, Locke was already finishing his breakfast and talking to the security detail about how the new arrivals and their luggage would need to be scanned.
I felt a niggle of unease. Sure, most of Locke’s guests would make high-value targets, so it made sense to keep a secure perimeter, but why monitor what his guests brought in?
That wasn’t the only change. Staff I hadn’t seen before bustled around, cleaning and seeing to details like additional floral arrangements, a pitcher of ice water and glasses by the entry door, a basket of prepackaged snacks on a drinks cart out on the pool terrace.
It was off-putting, the easy rhythm of our first couple of days gone as if it had never existed in the first place. I quickly shook off my selfish disappointment and reminded myself why I was here.
To be Locke’s host and ensure this event ran smoothly.
“How can I help?” I asked Locke with a smile when the housekeeper disappeared.
“I need you to remember this is a serious event with very important people,” he said, no traces of the warmth or humor from the previous night in his expression. Clearly, the pendulum had swung again. “Your manners need to be impeccable, and you need to listen more than you speak.”
Anger sparked under my tongue, but I bit it back. “Yes, sir.”
He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I… this has nothing to do with you. I just… I need you to understand this is a big deal. It’s the first Paxis tournament I’ve hosted, the first without my grandfather, and I need it to go well.”
While it helped to understand his shitty attitude was due to his nerves, it was still shitty.
“I promise I know how to behave around adults, Locke,” I said firmly, wanting so fucking badly to add that I’d met dignitaries all over the world and was even tangentially related to the current king of Liorland. But of course, I couldn’t do that.
He nodded. “Good. And you’re my assistant. Nothing more. Right?”
I clenched my teeth. “I believe you’ve made that point, yes. Several times, in fact. Shall I remember it later tonight? When my mouth is on your dick and you’re crying because it’s so fucking good?” My voice was too low for any of the staff to overhear, but it still made his ears turn red.
Locke closed his eyes and inhaled. “Jett. You know what I mean.”
“Of course. No acting gay around the very straight, very important people. Gotcha.” I gave him a sharp salute. “I shall change out of my rainbow-colored jock forthwith and remove the dildos from the men’s amenity baskets. What else?”
He rubbed his face with both hands and sighed. “Everything I say makes this worse. Tell me what to do to make it stop.”
I studied him and noticed the small signs of stress. The divot on his forehead, the lift of his shoulders, the tightness in his jawthat looked like it might snap under the slightest breeze. “You could say, ‘Jett, despite your beauty, charm, and obvious sex appeal, it’s important to me that none of my rich nerd friends discover my dirty little secret. Would you mind, terribly, hiding your little gay light under a bushel while we play board games this week?’”
His jaw flexed impossibly tighter. “May I speak privately with you in my suite, please?”
“Fine.” I stood and moved quickly to the bedroom, ready for the fight Locke seemed to be spoiling for. I would give him a piece of my mind. Hell, I’d give himallthe pieces of my mind. And then?—
He yanked me into a linen closet before we even reached the suite, pressing his hand against my mouth as he pushed me back against the door and murmured for me to just be still.
For a split second, I wondered if we were in danger. If he’d heard someone breaking into the house or something. But then I remembered the guards at every entrance, part of the professional security team required for the elite guests who would be staying here.
“It’s John, isn’t it?” I said, still white-hot with anger and disappointment. The word was meant to remindmyself. “Your name is John. Which is handy since that’s what you are to me. Myjohn.”
Locke’s stormy eyes met mine in the dim space. A small, high window allowed a few threads of sunshine to filter in through the branches and leaves of a tall shrub.
“Just stay still,” he repeated. “And don’t speak.”
