So I thought, let's write something short and cute while I wait for my brother to arrive, but apparently I cannot do short nor cute. Not sure what to call this and choosing a genre, because though I find it funny, it's not really a humoristic piece. Just something to entertain myself with while I'm still waiting for my brother and his delayed plane. Uploaded and written on my tablet, so as usual, it needs editing. Thank you for reading and I hope at least one of you finds it enjoyable :) Oh, and I decided Ivan and Holden are twins. Just because ..
Exclusive, exclusive!
'Long Live King Liam (and his incredibly fit bodyguard)!'
And Eleanor groaned, because what was supposed to be an entertaining and lightly informative article about future King Liam, was instead a feature focused on her brother's good looks, his captivating smile and his – apparently – sexually irresistible bodyguard. The first two she agreed with, the latter not so much. And she spoke from experience. Jasper Frost most definitely was resistible. Even sexually. It was hard, required hours of masturbation afterwards and Eleanor was still regretting not letting him into her bed before he had left with Liam on a three-week-tour, even after practically rubbing her clit sore for the past four days, but it certainly was not impossible to deny Jasper sexual access.
Once again, a highly inaccurate article published by D-Throned.
She considered unleashing Rachel on them, but then again, the pictures they had added were nice – Liam looked very handsome and Jasper completely sexually resistible – so she wouldn't bother. Next time, however.
xxx
'(Future) King Liam and bodyguard make temperatures rise in usually humid Bristol.'
And Eleanor groaned, because really, King Liam and bodyguard? Ridiculous. The picture accompanying the headline showed Liam and of course his trusted bodyguard enjoying a couple of pints on a terrace in Bristol, surrounded by at least four, five, six, seven, and she started counting again because for fuck's sake, why were there so many girls surrounding them?
It irked her that Liam had time to drink beer with virtual strangers, apparently making temperatures rise, while he couldn't even take the time to reply to his sister's numerous text messages. Her eye caught Jasper's hand, awfully high on one of the girl's legs – and it must be inappropriate in some country, she thought irately, to touch a girl's knee.
Bloody git.
What were they doing in Bristol anyway? They were supposed to visit the country. Old people and cow dung and hamlets with less than a hundred inhabitants. Not Bristol, where the people were called Bristolians and it seemingly was in fashion to suck up to the next King of England and his bodyguard.
'You better bloody not get one of them pregnant,' she muttered, whether to Liam or Jasper, she wasn't entirely sure. Both, she decided.
She, again, considered getting Rachel involved, but, she eventually concluded that Liam looked very handsome in his ivory linen suit, the jacket thrown nonchalantly over the back of his chair, and Jasper wasn't too shabby either – except that she didn't dare look at him for too long, because, well, you know - so yet again, she didn't bother.
Next time, however.
xxx
'Princess overjoyed to finally be united with bodyguard.'
And how could they be so wrong every damn time, Eleanor wondered, looking at D-Throned's highly inaccurate – as usual – front page. Because this was not what had happened and curse bloody Jasper.
They had been late, four bloody hours late, and she'd been pacing the Palace for all four of them. She hadn't seen her brother for three weeks and when Rachel informed her he should be arriving around lunchhour, she had given him an extra hour and then some. When he deemed it acceptable to arrive just before dinner, she had been fuming and ready to murder Liam and his entire entourage, including Jasper. In fact, she'd decided, as she had run down the hall towards the Palace stairs to greet her brother, his head would be the first to roll.
She had thrown open the doors, thundered down the stairs, furious and happy but really, mostly just furious – and there might've been some tears involved, so thank God those D-Throned idiots hadn't managed to get a shot of that.
She had already lifted a hand midway, ready to give Liam solid slap against the face, because how did he dare to make her wait this long? But then there had been Jasper, suddenly there had been him.
He had scooped her up in his arms, using her momentum to twirl – fucking twirl – them around. Her arms had been caught between his, his nose buried in her hair, as he had whispered, 'You are not going to hit the future King in the face, Eleanor. There are people and camera's watching.'
And how is you twirling me around like we're in a bloody movie Disney movie any better than me smacking Liam silly? She had wanted to yell at him, but she didn't, because Jasper was right and she was wrong, but so was this so –
'Please put me down,' she had said softly, and he had, rubbing her hair for good measure, and then she had jumped Liam, had hugged him hard enough to hurt him – and it gave her even more pleasure than hitting him would've – and she had simply hoped this so-called siblingly display of affection was enough to make the people forget about the help hugging the Princess.
But of course they hadn't forgotten.
And this atrocious headline was the result. The picture had been taken from behind, so all they saw was Jasper's arms firmly around her, his face hidden by her hair, and for fuck's sake, they really did look like a couple that was ecstatic to see each other again – and if that thought made her heart beat a little bit faster, she was quick to drown it in a big swallow of Vodka.
She should really, truly put Rachel on their trail. She would sort out the editors of D-Throned real quick – Eleanor suspected they were perpetually on drugs, so perhaps there were some blackmailing-opportunities to be had. But, as she looked at the picture a bit longer, Liam's look, bordering between amusement and fear – and he was right to fear her – was actually adorable and maybe, just maybe, the idea of Jasper having his arms around her and his face buried in her hair, wasn't all that bad. It didn't look too bad, anyway.
Once again, she decided not to bother. Next time, however.
xxx
'What are the King's bodyguard and his sister up to: sneaking away from the party?!'
And since when was she the bloody sister and not the Princess?
Liam had thought it would be fun, a final shenanigan, letting loose completely, before the heavy robe of Kingship fell upon his shoulders and irresponsible behaviour would no longer be permitted. Eleanor had stared at him, eyebrows arched, but when he had said 'let's just get fucking mortal' she had cheered, because that was a language she understood.
Eleanor had opted to go to Boujis but those other Royals, Harry, William and Kate, were rumoured to be there and Liam was not in the mood to bump into them. Liam had suggested The Hide, but Eleanor had dubbed it too plebeian and eventually they decided on Drama, a club called Drama.
They had called Ashok, and the other twins, Holden and Avery, and when Gemma found out, she insisted she'd come too, so Liam had no choice but to invite Willow as well - because taking his ex-girlfriend Gemma but not his current love interest was a solid way to ruin his relationship -, which rubbed Gemma completely the wrong way, and even before they had gotten anywhere near the nightclub, drama was already happening.
This headline, however...
Eleanor shook her head as she read it again, looked at the picture beneath it and sighed.
Because it certainly looked like they were up to something shady. Leaving the premises, just the two of them, stumbling through Hertford street in a way that was entirely inappropriate for a Princess and a bodyguard. She'd simply needed to get some fresh air, because Gemma and Willow were about to come to blows and Liam seemed entirely too pleased about it all, while Ashok had started a betting pool and the twins, the other twins, had proclaimed themselves the girls' boxing coaches. And perhaps she should've taken Baker outside, but Jasper had already been there, leading her outside before she had even fully realized she needed to go outside.
His hand was on her lower back, her face partly hidden behind his hand on her cheek and her long hair falling forward, and it was their proximity, their bloody closeness that had made her heart race and her hands shake - looking at the picture now, she could still feel her hands getting clammy and her heartbeat rising -, because this was too close for comfort and it brought back unwanted memories of better times. Better times between the two of them. And for fuck's sake, she remembered the exact feel of his hands on her body and the way he had held her hair.
'I missed you,' he'd whispered.
She had pretended not to hear him. It was easier that way.
She had, however, pulled him slightly closer and it was that exact moment D-Throned had managed to record on film.
She didn't want to make a big fuss about it, so she didn't text Rachel to get the picture deleted. Next time, however, she decided. Next time she would. For now, she'd just look, and in the sanctity of her room she could confess, that yes, she had missed him too.
xxx
'Mystery man leaves Princess' room at night and it's not the bodyguard (unfortunately).'
This one was simply preposterous. Because, how could they possibly claim to know such things, and what mystery man? Most importantly, what bodyguard? There was indeed a picture of a tall, black shadow, balancing on her balcony's edge, but there was no way to know whether he was coming or going out. Or just sitting there. He was unrecognizable, though.
She grinned because he had been drunk, they had both been drunk, and they had stumbled into her bedroom around four. He had put her to bed, had sent Baker to Liam's room, because he himself would keep an eye on the Princess. Apparently that had meant sitting on her balcony.
According to D-Throned it was an unidentified young man she had taken home after a night of partying hard in downtown London. He was seen leaving the Princess' room through unconventional ways shortly after four in the morning.
She scoffed and turned around, taking in the sight next to her for a moment, before biting him hard in the shoulder. She hadn't noticed him getting into bed with her, but it didn't bother her as much as it should.
'The fuck?' he groaned, 'what's wrong with you?'
She smacked him against the head with her pillow, shoving the iPad into his face.
'What the bloody hell were you doing?'
Jasper rolled his eyes, pushed the iPad and rolled on his side, turning his back towards her. She slapped him again and he grumbled a bit, but offered no response.
'Do you have any idea how bad this headline would've been,' she continued, 'had they recognized you.'
'I was just smoking a cigarette,' he sighed, his voice muffled because of the pillows.
'Not that it could be any worse,' she complained, ignoring him. 'They're making me out to be some sort of slut.'
'Where there is smoke, there is fire,' he muttered and she gasped indignantly. Made to kick him out of her bed, but he rolled around again, covering her small body completely with his much taller one.
'Shut up,' he whispered and his breath was hot on her ear. 'It's early and I want to sleep some more.'
She shivered, though she would never admit to it, and he placed a hand on her waist, squeezed softly.
'And stop wriggling, Princess,' he said, his voice low. 'It's better for both of us if the cock stays asleep.'
He rocked against her back and she gasped softly as she felt him. She could feel Jasper's smirk in her neck the entire time and was secretly disappointed that was all she felt the rest of the night. She closed her eyes tightly and feigned to be asleep, right up until Liam came knocking on her door, complaining why she had fucking stolen his bodyguard and left him with Hagrid.
This time, however, she did get Rachel involved. Because this was a serious breach of her privacy. How in the world had they managed to photograph her bloody balcony? She could not let this slide. Also, once again, highly inaccurate, she reminded herself, because there was nothing going on between her and the bodyguard, she assured Rachel, or any other man for that matter. Nothing at all.
xxx
'Rectification: it was only Liam and we shall not be photographing the Princess' balcony anymore.'
This and a repost of the earlier picture, only this time with an arrow added on, pointing at the shadow on her balcony, saying Liam. It made Eleanor smile and when Jasper entered her bedroom that night, she was quick to show him the iPad. He did not move a muscle, but she didn't really care.
It had become somewhat of a habit, him guarding her body, sending Baker to watch over Liam, and it always ended up with Liam barging through the door, demanding she take Hagrid back and return Jasper to him. Stealing his bodyguard was just like the old days, when they were children, when she would steal his action figures to marry her doll princesses and he would run crying to their father. The little brat.
Sometimes Jasper slept on the sofa, sometimes he didn't sleep at all. He never slept in the bed, though, not after that one time.
When he'd been prodding her with his hard cock. Ass.
'You're in a mood,' she told Jasper, and he rolled his shoulders, shrugged of his suit jacket.
'It was a long day,' he said. He was never one to share much.
She patted the bed, beckoned him closer. He looked tired, she noticed.
'You should tell Liam to take some time off,' she said. 'He shouldn't push himself so hard. The people will love him regardless.'
He sat down next to her and she helped him unbutton his shirt. Took it off his shoulders, throwing it in the general direction of the sofa. She was feeling generous, a bit vengeful as well, so she tentatively touched his trapezius. Pushed with her fingers, then relaxed.
'That feels okay?' she asked, and he nodded. Her hands were parallel to each other and she started to slide them down.
'If you want,' she started to say, 'you can just sleep in your own bed, tonight. I mean, I don't want this stupid game Liam and I have going on to rob you from a good night's sleep.'
But he shook his head.
'I'd rather stay here with you.'
'On the sofa,' he added, his tone almost mocking. She had to grin at that, pinching him. He jumped, but her hands were back on him, before he could get up.
'You should lie down,' she said. 'That makes this easier.'
'On the sofa?' he grinned and she slapped him across the back. He did as he was told, stretching himself on his back on her bed, grinning at her as he did so. And she wouldn't be Eleanor if she did not let her eyes linger, did not take in the naked sight of his torso, but she did so under the guise of an unimpressed eyebrow and when she flicked his side, he rolled over on his belly with a sigh.
She straddled him and then started the whole process again. Hands sliding down on each side of his spine, massaging as she got lower.
'Undo your pants,' she said and she lifted her ass of him so he could slide his pants down. She purposefully rolled her hips as she lowered down again. She didn't have a dick but she could prod and jab just as good.
'Better,' she acquiesced. This time she lowered her hands all the way down to his lower back and over his buttocks. If he moaned she pretended not to hear it, repeated the motion a couple of times instead.
She started to rub his shoulders, squeezed lightly and then loosened up, and from the corner of her eyes she saw his hands clench into fists. She went lower, to right above his ass, then let her fingers float to his sides.
He hissed.
'That's enough,' he said hoarsely. 'Feels better already.'
She nodded and bend forward. Pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades and felt his body shudder against her lips.
'Now you can go back to the sofa,' she smirked.
He grunted, clenched his jaw.
'I'm going to take a shower in my own room,' he said, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the sofa. He left his shirt, though. Eleanor grinned as he pulled the doors closed behind him. He practically slammed them shut and she loved it. She rolled onto her back and took her phone from the nightstand, to text Rachel.
Good job on D-Throned.
She secretly wished someone had taken a photo of this.
Princess shows bodyguard who's boss.
Now that would've been a headline.
He didn't return that night, though, and she waited up until nearly sunrise. She kept the fact that she hardly slept, due to his absence, to herself.
And she hid his shirt beneath her blanket when Liam burst through her door in the morning.
xxx
'King and bodyguard on the pull.'
And this was the most ridiculous one she had seen to date, but it had her fuming nevertheless. She understood, somewhat, because Willow was still not speaking to Liam after that disastrous night out – and her finding Gemma unclothed in his bed wasn't really helping his case – and his coronation was only three weeks away, so he needed to blow off some steam. Apparently into some random girl's mouth – which, again, wasn't helping his case with Willow – but Jasper?
There must've been a least a dozen protocols he was breaking, shoving his tongue down some bint's throat instead of watching and body guarding the bloody future King of England.
She wondered if she could get him fired.
Everything about the article was just rubbing her the wrong way. Especially the tiny letters beneath the photograph, small-fonted and easy to miss, but to Eleanor they were a bloody eyesore.
What will the Princess think?
She thought absolutely nothing of it, except that she would strangle him in his sleep, to make sure he bloody well never went on the pull again. Like a bloody commoner.
When he came to her room that night, she sat on her bed, legs in the lotus position and arms crossed threateningly over her chest. She knew she looked intimidating and he had better acknowledge it.
Which of course he didn't, because he was Jasper Frost and she was just the Princess, and no matter how hard she tried, he would always be in control. The thought alone almost had her breathing fire.
He took his time in taking of his jacket and dress shirt. Walked casually towards her dresser where he had a drawer – and how the hell had that happened, Eleanor didn't know, because he was just the bodyguard and nothing more and why in the world did he have his own drawer in her dresser? – and pulled out a sleeveless shirt and a pair of sweatpants.
'I'm going to take a shower,' he said and went into her bathroom before she had a reply formed.
'Dick,' she muttered and she wanted to get up and thrown open the bathroom door, but she restrained herself, did not move an inch and waited patiently for him to finish showering.
Smoked a fag in the meantime, tried to light it up with the force of her anger, but eventually did the sensible thing and used a lighter.
'You've been reading D-Throned again,' he stated when he returned to the room.
'Maybe,' she said stubbornly.
'And you really think I would kiss some girl I don't know?' he asked.
'You had sex with me when you didn't know me,' she shot back. 'So yes, I think you would.'
'Even if I did,' he said, 'why would you care?'
'I don't,' and for the argument's sake they pretended they both believed that lie.
'It's about the fact that you're not doing your duties,' she continued, 'when you're knuckles deep inside a bird.'
He smirked.
'So we go from kissing to sex?' he said. 'And you all got that from a picture?'
'Fuck you,' she hissed.
He still had that stupid smirk on his face and she was this close to slaughter him.
'Her friend made a move on your brother, I pushed her aside, she tried to kiss me, end of story.'
And it was a plausible story, because Eleanor knew first-hand how camera angles could distort truth and make things seem worse than they were, but perhaps because it was so believable, it could just as easily be a big, fat lie.
'You're lying,' she said resolutely. 'I know you are.'
He sighed, closed his eyes for a second.
'Her friend made a move on your brother, I pushed her aside,' he repeated. 'She tried to kiss me, end of the fucking story, Eleanor.'
He made himself comfortable on the bed beside her, attempted to slide under the blankets. She stopped him with a hand on his arm.
'Eleanor,' he sighed but she cut him off.
'You sleep on the sofa,' she said. 'And you are not sleeping at all until you give me a proper explanation. Not this end of the fucking story bullshit.'
He turned on his stomach and groaned into the pillow.
'If this is about me shirking my duties,' he said, 'I'll go and talk to James about it. After I've slept.'
He looked at her from the corner of his eye.
'If this is about you being jealous,' he continued, 'you better first admit to it, before you're hearing shit from me.
'It's ten in the morning and I'm fucking tired, Eleanor, so make up your fucking mind and do it quick, because I am going to sleep.'
'In this bed,' he added as an afterthought. She stared at him, eyes glittering, and she could just grab her bedside lamp and bash his head in. Because he was doing hers in. But the longer she looked at him, the more she felt her anger ebbing away. He looked tired, exhausted even, and she knew that in between his duties to Liam and spending his nights with her – on her sofa – he wasn't getting too much sleep.
So she caved in.
'No rubbing your dick against my ass,' she muttered, still feigning anger. But as she got under the covers as well, she sidled up closer and it was her rubbing her ass against his dick. When he made to grab her hips, she slapped his hands away.
'No touching,' she smirked. 'I don't know where those hands have been.'
Served him right for making her angry.
She heard and felt him laugh, then the feathery light touch of his finger running up her bare arm.
'You're the only girl I want to touch or kiss,' he said softly and lord have mercy.
If her heart skipped a beat, she made sure he didn't notice, and when his arms wound themselves around her waist, she pretended not to be aware and let him. She shot Rachel a quick text before she drifted off to sleep.
Tell them to leave the bodyguard out of it. He doesn't pull.
The next morning the headline read 'King on the pull' and she couldn't be more pleased. It was a shame they hadn't deleted the picture, though.
xxx
'King Liam and sister fight over bodyguard.'
And it wasn't true, of course it wasn't true. Because Liam had promised Jasper would take her home anytime she wanted to - that was the only reason she had agreed to accompany him to Gemma's birthday party - and that had been the exact moment she had wanted to go home. There had been some pulling and friendly banter and the accidental shattering of a glass, but there had not been a fight and she was home safely now, so what was the fucking problem?
The pictures of the broken glass and her playfully putting her hands around Liam's neck – though from this angle is looked like she was truly and viciously trying to strangle him. Those were the problem.
She had no clue how they'd managed to publish the article and pictures so quickly, too. It was less than a fourty-minute drive and already there were about five hundred comments – weren't people supposed to sleep – and none of them were very flattering towards her.
'They're spinning it like I'm trying to break up my brother's bromance with his bodyguard,' she exclaimed, 'because I'm jealous and no one loves me.'
She read another comment and laughed mirthlessly.
'Apparently I'm a stupid cunt,' she said, 'and my fanny is so big it could fit both you and Liam at the same time.'
'Cute,' Jasper replied dryly. 'I always thought you were rather tight.'
And she did not blush at his comment, did not blush, except she did and he saw.
She grabbed a bottle of wine from her dresser and walked towards the balcony. Jasper followed her, close on her heels, and closed the doors behind them.
'So,' he said. 'What are we doing here?'
She looked at him over her shoulder, offered him wine, but he declined.
'I thought you had fun at the party,' he said.
'I did,' she replied.
'But still you wanted to go home?'
She nodded.
'Why?'
Because home is with you, but she would never tell him that because he was still a first class asshole and he had slept with her fucking mother and had tried –
She felt his lips on her shoulder, only barely.
'What are you doing?' she asked, almost afraid of the answer.
'Trying to find out what it is we're doing here,' he replied, placing another kiss on her shoulder. 'Trying to figure out whether I've been reading the signs all wrong or if you want exactly what I want.'
His fingertips were caressing her bare arms and never had such a simple touch felt so arousing. It made her pulse speed up and her breathing hitch and he knew, she could tell that he knew.
'We haven't really spoken about anything,' he said. 'After the Cup.'
'Because you left,' she said, her tone sharp.
'You wanted me to,' he replied, almost a question.
'Before, yes,' she admitted. 'But then I wanted you to stay and you left anyway.'
One hand slipped beneath her shirt, drew circles just below her breasts.
'You never told me you wanted me to stay,' he said softly, his lips lightly touching her ear.
'You didn't give me a chance,' she said. 'Left with Liam to go on your jolly tour and explore the bloody country and make bloody temperatures rise in Bristol.'
She felt him smirk, his lips in her neck, and she relaxed against his chest, sighed.
'Do you still want me to stay?' he asked and she laughed.
'I think that's obvious,' she said. And she was happy he was behind her and couldn't see her face, because though her tone was light, she was petrified, because the fuck was she doing?
'Just answer the question, Eleanor,' he said unyielding.
If he just stopped touching her, then maybe she could start thinking straight again, or so she told herself, because she knew damn well that whenever Jasper Frost was involved, all rationality seemed to leave her.
'Look at me, Eleanor,' he said, demanded.
'What?' She forced herself to speak and he smirked.
'Look at me,' he repeated, his voice low. Her body reacted before she even comprehended it and the moment she had turned, looked him in the eye, he pressed up against her, pinning her between the balcony's edge and his body.
And for fuck's sake, this was not the Princess showing the bodyguard who was boss, because she was already flustered and her panties embarrassingly wet and for fuck's sake.
'You're the only reason I'm still here,' he began, and she wanted to ask 'What about Liam?' but something told her to just shut up and let the man finish. But Jasper had never been good with words, and while he knew what he wanted to tell her, he did not know how to say it.
He laid a hand on her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone softly. He wasn't particularly rough nor gentle, but she simply wasn't prepared, because when he kissed her it was with strength and passion and devotion, and all she could do was completely give in. She curled her fingers around the back of his neck, pulled him closer. He kissed her more thoroughly, deeper, and why ever had she abstained from this for so long?
Suddenly just kissing him wasn't enough. She needed more, wanted everything, and she let him know as she softly moaned his name.
They should've taken it inside, but she had missed him so fucking much. He knew just where to touch her and he had her burning, lifting her hips, and for fuck's sake, was she begging?
He lifted her up on the edge and she gave up. And sex on the balcony maybe wasn't very classy, but Eleanor couldn't give a rat's arse at the moment. He kissed her afterwards and she kissed him back, and when he told her he loved her, surprised himself by saying it out loud and she kissed his fluster away, all she could think was Jasper, Jasper, Jasper.
Perhaps D-Throned had been right. She told Jasper this and he laughed.
xxx
'Exclusive, exclusive: the Princess and the Bodyguard confirmed.'
Of course they'd been lying about not taking photographs of her balcony anymore. Helena was not pleased about that one. Eleanor thought it was a great picture.