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Well, that confirms what I wondered before. The attraction is mutual.
The voice in the back of my mind demands that I release him from the confines of his jeans so he’ll go through with that threat, but that’s not me. I’m not so forward. It’s bad enough that I touched myself while thinking about him and imagined demanding what I want, but going through with it is a completely different thing.
“Okay,” I whisper, tasting his breath. He’s so close, just an inch of space separating us.
The conviction within me wanes right before he pulls away and stalks out of the kitchen, leaving me completely alone, my panties destroyed.
CHAPTER6
LAURA
With nothing entertaining like television to pass the time, days seem much longer now. I still don’t have much of an idea of what’s going on or how long I’ll be here with Xander, but things have been different than I expected. Since the moment we shared on my first day here, Xander hasn’t touched me or looked at me in any way that’s sexual. He’s been surprisingly respectful.
I expected that he might try something, but he didn't. Even with us sharing the same bed, he stays on his side and I stay on mine.
We have a nice routine going. He’s usually gone before I wake up in the morning. I make breakfast and he gets back to eat with me. Then, he leaves again. I clean and cook so dinner is ready when he gets back. We eat dinner then I get ready for bed. He leaves again and doesn’t get back until I’m already asleep.
We’ve had some nice talks but the undeniable chemistry between us is still there. Sometimes it’s hard to breathe being in the same room as him. Sometimes he helps me forget about my current circumstances, that I don’t have a choice but to be here with him. It feels like a choice though—a choice I made for myself.
I wake to the sound of birds chirping and a weight on my stomach that I can’t place. I groggily open my eyes and nearly scream in surprise. Xander is pressed against me, his arm around my waist, and his face right in front of mine.
He’s always right between protective and dangerous, but while sleeping, all of the torture from his past dissipates, an ease on his face that resembles a young boy, untouched by all the darkness in the world.
I want to touch him, make sure I’m not dreaming, but I refrain from doing so. The last thing I want to do is wake him up and disturb the peace he is experiencing right now. Beyond all the scars and hurt, Xander really is just a man, starved of love like everyone else.
I was lucky to have two loving parents growing up. Xander didn’t have that. I know Davina loves him, but his father is another story. He seems to hold nothing but contempt in his heart for his only son.
Xander has seen and experienced horrible things, but he didn’t let them turn him into his father. At least, that’s what I’d like to think when I look at him. I want to know the man who saved me from unspeakable violence and sexual assault.
At the time, I thought Dell would have protected me in a similar situation, but looking back, I can’t say I know that for certain. He was always very selfish. I knew that from the start, but I didn’t mind. Humans are selfish creatures in general. How could I know what Dell would do?
I can’t.
It’s crazy that I haven’t thought about Dell in days. Maybe I wasn’t as in love with him as I thought. Maybe I don’t even really know what love is.
I think about my mom and my sister, but secretively, I think of Xander a lot. I’m so thankful for everything he’s done for me and I think of him in more ways than I’m proud of.
Instead of waking the handsome brute beside me, I move in closer to him, snuggling into his arms, hoping the movement doesn’t wake him. His arms tighten around me and I let out a small breath as I close my eyes, hoping sleep takes over and I can enjoy this moment a little longer.
* * *
I let outa long yawn as I turn onto my back, stretching out my limbs. A strong smell hits my nostrils and I look over to Xander’s side of the bed to find the sheets rumpled, but him absent. I slowly sit up and sniff out the smell until my eyes land on a steaming mug on my side of the bed.
A small smile tugs at my lips as butterflies assault my stomach.
Xander may be a bit of a brute, but he’s a brute with a soft side.
I grab the mug and let it warm my fingers as I smell the nutty aroma. Absolute bliss. It reminds me of coming home after pulling an all-night study session. Aching muscles finally relax once I smell the deliciousness.
I carefully take a sip and grimace as the too bitter, way too thick liquid slides over my tongue. Oh, my god. Where did he learn to make coffee? The Old West? That’s not the way coffee is supposed to taste, but it’s the thought that counts. So what if Xander can’t make a decent cup of coffee? Some might say it's a talent one must learn. Luckily, my mother was a barista before she married my dad so I know a lot about coffee, more than most.
I climb out of bed and walk out into the living room, completely stunned the moment I see a television in the living room, fresh out of the box. Why did he buy a TV? Xander is rarely ever here or maybe that’s just on the days he works.
I walk over to the kitchen and nearly laugh when I see Xander scrubbing burnt eggs out of the frying pan, his eyes focused on the task at hand, literally.
“Oh, my god. What did that pan ever do to you?” I gape at him.
He scowls at me, but then the look on his face softens as a long chortle spills from his lips. “I told you I can’t cook.”
