Page 35 of Keeping Guard
In the living room, he turned on the TV, muted the sound, and flipped through the channels until he found a baseball game. Restless, he roamed the living room. “Wow,” he murmured when he stopped in front of her bookcase. The shelves were filled with vinyl albums. In the middle of the bookcase was a turntable. She was just as obsessed with music as he was. Didn’t mean anything, though.
He returned to the sofa and tried to watch the game, but the ants were biting, so he dropped to the floor and counted his way through a hundred push-ups. Then he started over.
Peyton heard low grunts and wondered what Noah was doing. Since she slept in only her underwear and a soft camisole, she slipped on the leggings she’d worn earlier and a T-shirt over the camisole. She eased her door open and crept down the hall.
Lord above and all of heaven’s saints, the shirtless man doing push-ups on her floor, sweat glistening on his back, was the hottest thing she’d seen. Ever. She wanted to lick him. She wanted to press her fingers over those bulging muscles in his shoulders and arms. She just wanted. Period.
He had on jeans, but that was all. Would he agree to lose those if she politely asked? She had never been so close to perfection in a male, and it didn’t seem fair if she couldn’t touch him. Maybe get some more tingling kisses.
Just thinking about having her hands on him made her sigh with longing. She hadn’t meant to make a noise, but apparently she had, because he stilled with his face an inch from the floor. He rolled into a sitting position with the grace and fluidity of a gold medal gymnast.
“Peyton?”
“Hmm?” He wasn’t even breathing hard. How long had he been at it? Ten push-ups torturing her body like that and someone would have to scrape her off the floor.
“Did I wake you?”
“No.” She waved her hand. “Carry on. I’ll just quietly sit here.” And commence drooling. She plopped down on the sofa.
“I’m done.”
Well, drat. He eyed the hallway, and she was sure he wanted to close himself up in his room again. She didn’t want him to, so she said the first thing that came to mind. “Will you tell me why you have a hummingbird tattoo?” She was still curious about that.
Ignoring her question, he stretched his neck, rotating his head in a circle, then went to the window. Even from across the room, she could feel the tension rolling off him. She chewed on her bottom lip, then made her decision. If ever there was a man who needed someone to care about him, it was this one.
The only reason she knew he was aware of her coming up behind him was the way he cocked his ear toward her. When she was close enough to smell his musky scent, she drew in a deep breath.
“I stink,” he said, his voice gruff.
“No.” He didn’t. He smelled like all man, and it was intoxicating. She put her hands on his shoulders and pressed her thumbs into the hard knot at the base of his neck. He stilled, and when he didn’t push her away, she massaged the muscles in his shoulders.
“Gosh, Noah, you’re tighter than a frog’s butt, and that’s watertight.” She felt like she’d won the lottery when he huffed a laugh. Then he lowered his forehead to the window, and she knew he was shutting down again. Not on her watch.
“Full disclosure, I don’t really know if a frog’s butt is airtight. There are a lot of things I don’t know, but I do know this. You’re running from something, and if you want to talk about it, I’m a good listener. Sometimes I even give good advice. But you don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to. It’s entirely up to you. It’s a proven fact, though, that bottling up the bad stuff hurts the soul.” She moved her finger back to the knot at the base of his neck. “That’s why you’re as tense as a boy about to ask a girl he has a crush on to the prom.” She hated it when she rambled, and she was definitely doing that, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “Were you nervous the first time you asked a girl out? I doubt you were. You probably had girls falling all over you.” She would have definitely been one of those girls. “How old were you when you had your fist kiss? I was—”
Before she knew what was happening, his mouth was on hers. She was beginning to suspect that this was his way of shutting her up, and if so, she had a whole lot more to say if it got her these amazing tingles invading her body.
When he’d kissed her before, it had only been mouth on mouth, but this time, his tongue slid between her lips, and every thought in her head was obliterated. Nothing existed in the world, nothing mattered but this man and what he was doing to her.
He slid his hands down to her hips and pulled her to him. She slipped her hands around his neck, needing anything and everything he was willing to give her. He plundered—that was the only word for it—her mouth, lighting her body on fire. She whimpered, wanting more.
“No,” she said when he pulled away. “Don’t stop.”
“You need to stop making me kiss you.” He scowled at her, and then he walked away, disappearing into the guest room, shutting the door behind him.
“Not in this lifetime,” she muttered. She fully intended for there to be more kissing. And hopefully, other body-tingling stuff.
Peyton slapped her hand over the clock, shutting off the blaring alarm. She hated mornings and usually hit the snooze button five or six times before rolling out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom. She was slipping back to sleep when her eyes popped open.
Was that coffee she smelled. And bacon? How could she forget the sexiest man alive was sleeping in her guest room? Suddenly wide awake, she scrambled out of bed. Ten minutes later, wearing a pair of red shorts and a black sleeveless top that tied at the waist, she walked into the kitchen. Her smile faded when she found it empty.
A plate was on the warmer, and she peeked under the paper towel covering it. A dozen or so slices of perfectly cooked bacon were on the plate. “Like bacon much,” she murmured. He’d also made a pot of coffee, and she poured a cup.
Coffee in hand, she walked down the hallway, stopping at the open guest room door. The bed was perfectly made, and she wondered if he’d even slept in it. Where was he? Lucky was missing, too, so Noah was probably out walking his dog.
The doorbell chimed, and she went to the door and peeked out the eyehole. Seeing it was Dell with her bathroom door, she let him in.
“This will only take a few minutes,” he said.
