Page 41 of Nanny for the Firefighter

His eyes come up to meet mine. “Waiting.”

“I…”

But there are no words. My brain is spinning, shifting through questions and declarations and shooting them all down before they can break out.

This is not how I expected this night to go, but if I’m honest with myself, I should have seen the flood coming.

The signs were there. We’ve been dancing around each other ever since I started watching Mia, and now…

Mason’s conflicted expression is laced with agony and frustration. And it’s my fault. I’m the one who agreed to do this.

I never should have started watching Mia. I’m intruding on his life, and the last thing I want in the world is to cause this man pain.

Despite the crushing reality of our situation, I can’t stop myself from caring about him. It’s like breathing—compulsory and unstoppable.

“Why did you leave, Bridget? Why were you gone for years? Why did you come back?”

The questions are justified, and they’ve been hanging between us unspoken since my arrival.

And I still don’t know what to say, especially not to Mason.

“I…Mason, I didn’t…” My eyes burn, and I feel like I can’t take a full breath. “I shouldn’t have left. It was the wrong move, and I see that now. But…our lives aren’t what they were.”

He eyes me, his stare penetrating to the deepest layers of my psyche. The tension is so thick, and I abruptly realize that Mason is closer—so much closer.

“Wrong move, huh?”

Mason nods his head slowly, lifting his scotch up to his lips and downing the remainder of the glass.

Before I can say anything, he runs a hand through his hair and sets his glass down on the bed. When he meets my eyes again, Mason is striding across the few feet that separate us until he is right in front of me.

Without so much as a single word, Mason wraps his strong hand around the back of my neck, yanking me up against his chest.

“Mason, I?—”

But I can’t speak, my words silenced by his lips crashing into mine.

My eyes flare wide from the shock, and I freeze in his arms like I’ve been electrocuted. Still, in just a heartbeat, I melt into the feeling of Mason holding me to him, claiming my lips so wholly.

The tension in my brain snaps, and I fling my arms up around his neck. I’ve been desperate to kiss Mason for, well, for years, and that need boils over like magma.

God, he tastes like fucking heaven.

Whiskey dresses his tongue, but also that unique magic that is one hundred percent pure Mason.

My heart pounds furiously against my ribcage, and my core warms as he pulls arousal out of me like nothing and no one before.

Mason’s firm hand on my neck holds me pressed to his chest as the other snakes around my back toward my hips.

He smoothes my body against his before gripping my ass in a tight squeeze.

A tiny moan slips free, absorbed by our kisses, and then Mason’s tongue darts between my lips.

Heat flares in my cheeks and down my spine, my entire being hungry for everything this incredible man is willing to give me.

Hoisting up the silky fabric of my dress right at the slit over my leg, Mason explores my mouth, his tongue as eager as his fingers.

My pussy is clamping around nothing as Mason touches more of my skin, walking me backward to the wall right next to the bedroom door.

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