Page 69 of Keeping Guard
“God, no,” he said, so much pain in his voice.
Lucky jumped up, putting his paws on the bed. He looked at her, then at Noah and whined. “I’ll take care of him, sweet boy,” she quietly said. “Go back to your bed.” He lowered his chin, resting it on his paws, his gaze staying on Noah.
“I guess you’re staying, huh?” She slid her hand over Noah’s chest and then down his arm. “Shhh, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Now that she knew what had happened, she didn’t doubt the nightmare was of that day. “You’re not there, Noah,” she said, keeping her voice soft and low. “Sleep, baby.”
She kept caressing his arm, up to his shoulder, down to his wrist. He settled, and his breathing slowed again. If he had these nightmares every night, no wonder he refused to sleep. But he couldn’t go on like that, and she could only hope his therapist could help him. And just maybe, Peyton thought, she could play a part, however small, in his healing.
A few minutes after Noah quieted, Lucky disappeared from view, his nails clicking across the wood floor as he returned to his bed. “He loves you,” she whispered against Noah’s back. And maybe she did a little bit, too.
Noah woke wrapped around Peyton’s warm, soft body. Sometime during the night, they’d changed positions with him now holding her. What she’d done for him last night...he had no words for what it meant to him.
For the first time since arriving in Asheville, regret settled over him that he would leave her. It was selfish to not go now so she could get on with her life, find a good man who would love her the way she deserved. Although it was wrong of him, he was going to be selfish.
He glanced at her bedside clock. Even though it was only five in the morning, he was now wide awake, but damn, he was tired. So tired of the guilt, the nightmares, and the PTSD, which the head doc had assured him he had. He’d never thought those letters would apply to him. Hell, he’d watched his mother’s murder. It couldn’t get worse than that, right? He should be able to deal with this without falling apart.
When he’d found Peyton’s door locked to him, and although he’d expected it, the disappointment and hurt had taken him by surprise. He wasn’t supposed to have feelings for her. And in that moment of being locked out of her life, he’d had a meltdown.
Because that was what had happened last night. Then when he’d expected Peyton to tell him to leave, she’d surprised him. No one after his mother had taken care of him like that. She couldn’t possibly comprehend what that meant to him. She was one special princess.
Also, sexy as hell. Since he’d given in to the inevitable and spent that first night in her bed, he couldn’t get near her without wanting her. It would have been easier to leave her when the time came if he hadn’t allowed that to happen, but he didn’t regret it.
He trailed his hand over her arm, then slipped under the T-shirt she’d kept. He liked her in it, something that had belonged to him. She sighed when he brushed his fingers under the curve of her breast. Those noises she made...they were his undoing. Every single time. More than anything, he wanted to bury himself inside her and make slow, sleepy love to her. But she’d been up half the night taking care of him, so this morning, he’d take care of her.
While she slept, he’d take Lucky out, and while they were out, he’d see what time the bakery opened. Unable to resist copping one more feel, he stroked a finger around a nipple, smiling when it peaked at his touch. Even in sleep, she responded to him, and wasn’t that a turn-on? His erection jerked against her ass, and before he forgot she needed her rest, he eased away.
“Don’t go,” she drowsily said.
He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the fresh, citrusy scent he would forever associate with her. “Go back to sleep, princess.”
She reached for his hand, bringing it back under her shirt to her breasts. “You were playing with these. I liked it.”
“Did you now?”
“Hmm-mmm.”
He loved that sleepy voice. They hadn’t made love in the morning, and mornings were one of his favorite times for sex. There was always a soft, dreamy feeling to it. He danced his fingers down her stomach, slipped them under her leggings, and toyed with her clit for a few seconds before sliding one and then two fingers inside her.
“So wet for me,” he murmured into her ear.
“Only for you.”
God, how he wished that could be true forever. He stilled, realizing he really meant that. Still half-asleep, she probably didn’t even realize what she’d said or the implication. He wanted to be her only for as long as she would have him, but it couldn’t be.
“Noah?”
He took his hand away. “Turn over and put your leg over mine.” He needed to be inside her, wanted to be buried deep while she was still drowsy. “Wait. Clothes off.” For both of them. He pushed his boxer briefs down, then kicked them off. After helping her out of her clothing, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom out of the box.
Once the condom was on, he pulled her against him. She was waking up and looking at him. He didn’t want her awake. “Close your eyes and let yourself drift off.”
“But—”
“Do it.” That came harsher than he’d meant for it to, but he had this burning need for sleepy, lazy morning sex, something he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had. “Close your eyes, princess. I’m going to make love to you and sing you back to dreamland.” Where the hell had that come from? He didn’t sing anymore.
“Ooooh,” she breathed out. “I want that. All that.” She closed her eyes. “Sing to me, Noah.”
So he sang. He didn’t even think about what song. As he softly sang Foreigner’s “I Want to Know What Love Is,” he wondered if she understood that because of her, he did want to know.
When her body relaxed, he eased into her. Inside Peyton Sutton was where he could live forever. It was where his demons weren’t able to torture him because she’d drive them away if they dared to try. Somehow, he knew that about her.
