Page 111 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

“Xander.”

“No!” He laughed. “We’re keeping it between us for now.”

“I’m wounded.” Malik pressed his hand dramatically to his chest. “And here I thought we were close.”

“We are close.”

Malik stared at him.

Xander stared back.

Malik popped him on the shoulder with the back of his comb.

A low warning growl came from near his knee.

Malik froze. “Easy Cujo. It was a love tap.”

Xander chuckled. “It’s okay, girl. At ease.”

Roxie sat beside him, black-and-tan ears pricked, dark eyes fixed on the comb in Malik’s hand.

The four-year-old German Shepherd had been silent for most of the morning, lying near the foot of the bed while the wardrobe team worked, but apparently shoulder-popping crossed a boundary in her world.

Xander reached down and scratched behind her ears. “He’s a friend.”

Roxie didn’t look convinced.

Across the room, Ranger lifted his head from where he lay in front of the bedroom door. The second shepherd was larger and darker in appearance.

Xander still hadn’t gotten used to the Fort Knox security system Free and Tech had built into his home, but the dogs he’d taken to instantly.

Free said dogs were the best security a person could have, so he’d adopted Roxie and Ranger from the LAPD K9 program. Neither had been selected for patrol work, but both had gone through the rigorous testing and training, leaving them obedient, intelligent, and protective in the way he needed.

He was already in love with them.

Roxie followed him room to room, placing herself between him and any new person who entered. Ranger always sat near whichever open door or window he wanted.

God had allowed him to go back home a little over a week ago, and he did feel a lot safer than before.

Not fearless, but safe.

Things had been quiet since he’d resumed filming, so that helped, but God and Day insisted his detail remain on high alert until the police made an arrest.

Cassidy had been staying in the guest room…except at night.

Cassidy would work late sometimes, reviewing reports in the reading chair near the window while Xander pretended to watch television and not him. Some nights they talked and others, they touched.

They hadn’t made love yet, which was still a mystery to him.

The desire between them was so real.

Every accidental brush, late-night kiss that started gentle and ended with him breathless beneath Cassidy, fingers buried in his hair, aching with want.

Cassidy knew exactly how to make him lose his damn mind. He knew where to put his mouth, how much pressure made him arch into it, when to slow down, when to stop, when to wrap a hand around the back of his neck and murmur against his skin until Xander forgot where he was.

But Cassidy never let hunger overrule him. He was so mature in a way Xander had never experienced.

Cassidy cared more about him and his well-being, before satisfying himself.