Page 72 of Xander

All I could do was hope this madness would come to an end soon before it destroyed us both. Thankfully, I had Jasper as a buffer tonight.

It was late when we arrived at Xander’s estate. Despite nightfall, the white-washed exteriors were easy to make out in the uplights, along with the windows adorned with blooming flower boxes beneath them. A stone path wound its way to the front door, which was painted a cheerful blue. This morning, he had shoved me into the shower and then into his car in such a rush that I hadn’t had the chance to look around.

As if thinking the same, Xander said, “I know we didn’t have the time today, but I can give you a tour of the estate tomorrow.”

I was too lost in my head to care about a tour, so I quietly followed him inside and up a set of stairs.

All the lights were turned off except for the hallway he led me down. Xander stopped in front of a closed door that I presumed was Jasper’s bedroom and whispered, “I’ve got some things to discuss with Jasper.” Things meaning me.

I nodded and turned away to give them privacy when Xander grabbed my bicep.

“Go to our bedroom. It’s down the hallway to the left. I’ll join you after I talk to him.”

I froze.

The words our bedroom buzzed in my ears. The intensity increased when his fingers dug into my bicep, silently communicating this was an order rather than a request.

I managed to keep my expression neutral. Though I had no intention of following orders from another insane man, I knew Xander wouldn’t let go until I agreed. I forced my head to nod submissively but bolted as soon as he disappeared inside the bedroom.

I grabbed my toiletries and some sleeping clothes from Xander’s—not our—bedroom and scoped out the house in search of a new room. The estate was surrounded by a few acres of land, though it was rather quaint inside. I couldn’t help admitting that this felt like a real home rather than the cold, empty house I’d become accustomed to.

But even the homeliest of estates had several rooms. I explored downstairs first. There was a cozy living room with plush furniture, a formal dining room with a long wooden table, and a study lined with bookshelves. All five bedrooms were upstairs and decorated with modern furniture and ensuite bathrooms.

After sorting through them, I opted for the one next to Jasper’s room. It was the ideal choice. Xander was careful around Jasper and wouldn’t make a move with him next door. For added measure, I locked the door and stuck a chair under the knob.

My eyelids felt heavy, but I still took my time washing my face and gasped when the heavy-duty foundation washed off. The purplish bruise around my eye was now starkly defined, imitating the size of Henry’s fist.

I looked away from the mirror for the rest of my nighttime routine. By the time I took off my black leggings, exchanged them for shorts and a tank top, and crawled under the covers, I was dead tired. I molded against one of the soft pillows and hugged a beige one to my chest. They provided little comfort and warmth on the cold and oppressive night.

I failed to understand how I ended up in this situation. The way Xander had taken over my life, just like Henry, sent a chill down my spine. What was wrong with me that I kept attracting damaged men?

I had to be at fault because the facts didn’t lie. Yes, Xander and Henry were both lunatics, but unfortunately, what these lunatics had in common was only one thing—me. If I was the common denominator in every situation, surely the problem was me?

With a soft groan, I blinked open my eyes but shut them against the harsh sunlight streaming through the window. For the third day in a row, I woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, this time with an arm hooped below my bare breasts.

As the fog cleared, I recognized the arm wrapped around my middle. Yet I lay there motionless, lost in the murky depths of some sleep-driven euphoria.

He thrust into me from behind like he had already claimed the right to my body. We moved as one with my cheek pressed against the soft, silky pillow. My skin tingled from his touch, toes curling underneath the comforter.

His breath tickled my neck, sending a shudder down my spine. “This is how I want to wake up every morning,” he murmured into my hair. His hand drifted down to my sex. He pulled me closer as he ground against me. “Fuck, baby.”

My pussy throbbed at the low gravelly voice.

His other hand brushed over my nipple before rolling it between his thumb and index finger. “Jordan.” He spoke in that voice that was driving me mad.

With my eyes screwed shut, I tried to block out the voice and pretended like I was somewhere else… with someone else. Someone who was a more appropriate choice was the one setting my body ablaze.

But it became all too real when he grabbed my chin and made me face him. He was leaning back on his side and as naked as me. There was a sheen of sweat on my neck. The sex hair he sported also had flickers of sweat on the roots of his dark, curling locks. I felt the spatter of one on my forehead like a hot star. It made me wonder how long he had been at this lewd debauchery before I woke up.

“I missed you last night,” he sighed in my ear. His breath broke, growing harsher with each push. “I had to wait until the housekeeper arrived for the keys to the balcony door.”

I glanced in the direction of the small balcony overlooking the harbor. I hadn’t noticed it last night. Did he climb the balcony to get inside?

“You slept in here even though I told you to go to our room,” he chided lightly. “Didn’t you hear me knocking on the door?” he asked, though he didn’t sound particularly furious. I presumed he was angrier last night upon realizing I’d disobeyed a direct command. Apparently, using my pussy for his pleasure had taken the edge off.

I shot daggers at him with my eyes. “I wouldn’t have let you in even if I had.”

I expected his anger at my rebuff, but he had none to spare. “You hate me for this, don’t you?” he asked in a voice that made my chest hurt.