Heat licked through her as her gaze slid over his broad shoulders, trailing down his muscled chest. She could only imagine the washboard abs beneath his tee shirt, but oh, wouldn’t that be a sight to see.
“I just—it caught me off guard. What if you hadn’t been here? He was pounding on my door, demanding to come inside….”
Much to her utter embarrassment, tears sprang to her eyes.
“Taylor, sweetheart,” he said, stepping closer and gathering her to him. She let out a muffled sob and collapsed into his embrace, the weight of his muscular arms wrapping around her.
He was solid and safe. Warm.
It felt as if nothing bad could ever happen to her when Mason was here.
The heat of his hands seared into the bare flesh of her back, his rough fingertips dragging over her skin where the skimpy straps of her camisole lay.
She was next-to-naked, vulnerable, and had never felt so safe.
He pulled her even closer, and she inhaled his scent of soap and spice. He was pure male—so masculine it almost hurt. The opposite of her in every way.
And he’d rushed over tonight for her.
But wasn’t that exactly the problem? Mason couldn’t always be here. They weren’t even together for goodness sakes. He’d come for her tonight, yes, but wouldn’t always be around. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, and then suddenly Mason was lifting her into his arms. Carrying her into her bedroom.
He cradled her close, like she was something fragile to be taken care of and cherished.
“Shh, sweetheart. You’re safe. I’m right here.”
He padded across her room in the darkness, only the glow from her clock on the nightstand and light from the living room showing him the way.
It felt intimate to have him hold her this way.
To have Mason here in her bedroom.
His strength and warmth surrounded her, and she inhaled his scent. He lay her down on the bed, and she refused to let go, pulling him right down beside her, enjoying the feeling of his body beside hers. She continued to cry quietly into his chest as he held her, his muscular arms tightening, and finally her tears began to slow.
“Shh,” he said again, his hand stroking over her hair.
She hugged him even tighter. “Stay with me,” she whispered.
“I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’ll hold you all night.”
***
Taylor mumbled as she began to wake, her body wrapped around something warm and solid. She nestled closer, hovering at that delicious moment between sleep and wakefulness, her entire body relaxed.
She felt safe in her little cocoon, content.
She wanted to hold onto this feeling of lightness. Of slumber. Of being safe and warm where nothing bad could ever happen to her.
She shifted slightly as her sex throbbed, and with a gasp, she realized her leg was over Mason’s muscular thigh, her arms wrapped around him, her head on his chest. He was just beginning to stir himself, still wearing his tee shirt and shorts from the night before, but there was no mistaking the bulge in his shorts.
Inches away from her leg.
She moved again, her silken legs skimming over his muscular ones. The springy hair on his legs tickled her skin, and there was something erotic about awaking this way, her body against his, their legs intertwined. Mason’s arms still wrapped around her.
He’d held her as she fell asleep last night, but somehow she’d nestled even closer to him throughout the night.
Curled her entire body around his so that she was clinging to him.
His arms shifted as he began to wake up, his fingers lazily trailing over her bare skin.