Capítulo 19: Chapter 19

Peyton shoved the dregs of unconsciousness aside and opened her eyes. Panic and confusion followed as her heartbeat tripped. Aside from Xavier kneeling in front of her, she didn't recognize a thing. Last she remembered, they were in the limo after the benefit.

"Where am I?"

He rubbed his jaw as if suddenly nervous. "My house. I was going to let you sleep, but you have your contacts in and" He gestured toward her dress. Rising, he moved to a dresser.

She glanced around. They weren't just at his house, but in his bedroom. Or a guestroom. Maroon and cream striped wallpaper. Four-poster king-size bed with an etched, inlaid design. Matching mahogany dressers. Thick beige carpet. Heavy burgundy drapes covered what looked to be a patio door. A stack of computer manuals and mysteries laid on the nightstand next to a lamp. The place was the size of her entire apartment.

"How did I get here?"

His spine stiffened in the process of rooting through a drawer. "I carried you."

"You" Of course, he did. Because that was normal. And she'd slept through the whole thing.

He sighed and hung his head, back still to her. "Don't be mad. I'm sorry about what I said earlier and I only want you to get some rest."

She wasn't mad. Oddly touched, but not mad. She was beginning to grow entirely too dependent on him, though. Or, that's how it had felt lately. Perhaps she just enjoyed being taken care of for once, even if it was Xavier's awkward attempts.

When she said nothing, he turned and faced her, crossing his arms. Gone was the tie and jacket. The first couple buttons of his shirt were undone and he had the sleeves rolled to his elbows. God, he was such an attractive man. Thick chestnut hair, expressive bourbon eyes. A half-day of scruff had begun to darken his jaw.

"Is this your bedroom?"

He cleared his throat, gaze on the floor. "Yes." Suddenly, he turned and was back to digging in the dresser. Removing a t-shirt, he walked it over to her. "Bathroom's through there. Help yourself to whatever. When you're done, I'll get my stuff and sleep in the guestroom."

"But this is your room."

The look he sent her indicated he was all too aware of the fact and that she was here. Then, he refused to look her in the eye, but he jerked his chin toward an open connecting door. "You're tired. Go on."

With a sigh, she headed for the bathroom and shut him out.

She'd never been in his private quarters. Once, a year ago, she'd spent the night in one of his many guestrooms down the hall, and she'd been downstairs many times. His house was very different from the apartment. Instead of cold functionality, there were warm tones and rich, dark wood throughout. His private bathroom was no different. Sage tile, a corner shower, huge tub, earth tone accents, soft emerald towels.

So he didn't have to wait on her, she quickly opened cabinets and found contact solution and an extra case. Lenses out, she washed the makeup from her face and changed into the tee. Discovering an unopened toothbrush, she used it and cleaned up her mess. Unsure what to do with the dress, she hung it over the shower stall for now.

She stepped out, and his gaze immediately jerked to hers as if he'd had no choice. He stood in the middle of the room, hands on his hips, and a furrow between his brows. Slowly, he raked his eyes over her body, then closed them as if pained. Tension tightened his jaw.

Before she could respond, he grabbed something off the chair she'd vacated and stalked into the bathroom. The door promptly shut behind him.

Rendered immobile, she stood frozen and tried to get a grip.

She looked around and decided she couldn't do this. No way could she stay in his bedroom when he was clearly unnerved having her here. The lines of their relationship had been blurred enough as of late, and she wasn't going to force him out of his own sanctuary.

Seeing her purse on the dresser, she snatched her glasses from inside. Quietly, she stepped from the room and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark hall. Remembering where the guestroom was located from her previous stay, she walked two doors down and peeked inside. It appeared ready to use, so she switched on a lamp and tugged back the covers, slipping inside.

Except, she wasn't tired anymore. Exhausted, sure. Aroused, confused, rattleddefinitely. This room was in muted yellow tones and more feminine with floral drapes and a comforter. White furniture pieces. Sitting in bed, she chewed her lip and wondered if he'd care if she stormed the library downstairs for a book. A few pages to take the edge off

Footsteps padded down the hall, and he ducked his head inside the room. With a sigh born of pure relief, he leaned against the jamb. Rocking a pair of plaid blue flannel pants and a white tee, he studied her. She'd forgotten how sexy he looked in glasses, too. Thin black rectangular frames gave him a geeky hotness.

"I told you I'd stay in here." He focused on her necklace, and her heart about broke at the raw torment in his eyes.

"Come here." She patted the mattress by her hip.

He paused a beat and shoved off the frame, taking a seat facing her at the edge. "Not to bring up a sore subject, but I wish you'd told me about that Michael person. I know full well you can handle yourself. Hell, you continually handle me, and I'm a huge undertaking. But, the point is, there are some things you shouldn't have to deal with, especially when I'm around."

A smile teased her lips, even as her eyes misted with emotion. "Gonna slay my dragons, X?"

"I'm no warrior."

She hummed her disagreement. "Now, there you're wrong."

His gaze skimmed her face. "Joseph's been teaching you how to fight. You two have been chummy since"

"No. I'm not into him and he's into Kate." She swore, it was like he couldn't fathom why she'd be attracted to him above all others.

He huffed a laugh. "I'll pray for him." Gently, he held her chin and tilted her head to look at her bruise. His thumb grazed her temple, the touch ever tender. "Joseph was pretty distraught over this, as well. I'm not the only one."

"I told you, I don't have feelings for him. I love him, yeah, but not in that way. I'm attracted to a genius computer nerd turned billionaire who gives endlessly to charities, hates the spotlight, and doesn't think he's good enough."

"That's not what I meant. I only wanted to point out Joseph cares, too. You're not alone and" He blinked as if just catching up to the latter part of her statement. "What?" His chest didn't seem to be moving with basic oxygen exchange.

"He also loves his family, treats his employees like gold, and tries very hard to hide the fact he's been taking care of me for a long time."

Closing his eyes, he let out an uneven breath. "Peyton, honey" He pinched the bridge of his nose, nearly dislodging his glasses.

"He calls me honey when his defenses are down and he's close to his breaking point."

He let out a laugh that bordered on sarcastic and shared intimate space with frantic. "You got that right. What about the bartender? Didn't you have a date last night?"

"I went. I had fun. There won't be another." She shrugged. "No chemistry."

He seemed skeptical. Adjusting his glasses, he looked at her and took hers off, setting the frames on the bedside table. "Goodnight." Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her bruise and started to rise.

Forget rules. She grabbed his hand to stop him, cupped his face, and kissed him.

For a fractured beat, he paused, then he tilted his head and groaned. The vibrations wove from his lips to hers, sending a ripple of pure need straight to her core. Firm, sharp strokes of his tongue darted in her mouth, teased, and retreated. Increasing the pressure, she opened wider, seeking more, and he gripped the back of her neck like he'd thought she'd pull away.

Like the first time, he kissed with dominance and barely leashed control. A man who clearly knew what he wanted, sought his pleasure, and still managed to make the experience all about her needs. He explored as if learning and simultaneously recognizing her in the same breath. Utter annihilation. She trembled and moaned.

"I give up," he muttered against her lips, his breath hot and heavy. "Yes, I'll slay your dragons. I'll do anything you goddamn want." With a hand under each thigh, he lifted her from the mattress, dragged her across his body, and deposited her in his lap to straddle him. "I could wear a full body suit of Kevlar and you'd get through. I don't have the strength to fight you."

And wow, could the man say anything that didn't squeeze the beat from her heart? She could climax on his words alone. Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples hard at the direct contact with him. She traced her fingers over his jaw, the whiskers rough. The quiet rasp made her quiver. Such a beautiful mouth. Firm lips, the lower just a tad fuller than the top.

He stared into her eyes and swallowed. "I didn't bring you home for this. I want you to know that."

"I do." She smiled to soften his tension. Placing kisses across his cheek, she wove her fingers through his hair, earning a sharp intake. She nipped his earlobe, his chin.

"Peyton" He groaned. "Holy Christ."

"Hmm?" She moved to his neck, licking and sucking his warm skin. Gah, he smelled so good, she could feast on him.

His respirations increased. Rough, deft fingers clenched her thighs and slid up to her waist, under her shirt, and stopped to splay over her ribs. The distinct thick, hard ridge of an erection pressed her mound, and she went from damp to drenched. Wanting more, she rocked her hips, and he set his forehead on her shoulder, emitting a full body shudder.

"Mercy, woman. Your mouth is torture enough. Don't throw your body into it, too."

Without warning, he lay back, taking her with him to sprawl across his chest, and looked up at her. Pushing her hair from her face, he drew a ragged breath. "I want you. Bad. Which is why we should stop. You need some rest. In the morning, let's discuss this. Ad nauseum."

Unable to help it, she grinned. "Talk, huh?"

"It's what we do best."

"Not for long."

His laugh was rough and ended in a groan. "Help a guy out here, honey."

"Okay, okay." She gave him a brief kiss and rolled off, shifting to her original position by the pillow. He didn't move, just pressed his palms to his eyes. She thought about the restless nights this week and desperately wanted tobe held. "Sleep with me?"

He turned his head with a look of carnal banality. His jaw ticked. After a moment, he must've read something in her expression because his gaze softened.

Sitting up, he climbed off the bed, wrapped his arms around her, and carried her into his room. "If I'm sleeping with you, we're doing it in my bed."

Dropping one knee on the mattress, he lowered her to the sheets, went back to shut the door, and switched off the lamp. He set his glasses on the nightstand. A moment later, his bathroom light came on. He partially closed the door as if leaving her a nightlight, and climbed in bed beside her.

On his side, he faced her, and she adjusted to do the same. Shadows played over his face, but she could make out his features through the muted darkness. Affection stared back at her.

One corner of his mouth curved and he reached up to brush the hair from her face. "Is it all right if I hold you?"

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