Page 9 of The Mountains Edge

"You're different."

"Why?"

When he doesn't answer, I trace my fingers over his scars. They're smooth under my touch, a map of stories I want to learn. "Marcus. Why?"

He breaks.

His mouth crashes down on mine andmybody screams,YES,this is what I've been waiting for. I moan as he backs me against the table, my hands fisting in his shirt. He tastes like coffee and wilderness and need.

I part my legs, letting him step between them. The angle brings his thigh against my core and I gasp at the friction. His hands slide under my shorts, rough palms on bare skin, and I'm on fire.

"Tell me to stop," he growls against my throat.

I arch into him. "Not a chance."

I roll my hips against his thigh, desperate for more contact. His mouth reclaims mine, hungry and deep, making me whimper.

"Daisy." His fingers skim my breast as I start to grind against his leg.

I don’t care that I’m shameless. I want and need him.

A bark splits the night. Someone walking their dog late. Marcus steps away, leaving me cold and aching.

"That's enough for tonight." His voice is harsh.

"Marcus." But he's already grabbing his jacket.

"I'll be back tomorrow. We'll start the restoration then."

"You're running away."

"I'm being smart." He backs toward the door. "This is a bad idea."

"No," I say softly. "This is the best idea either of us has had in a long time."

He disappears into the night, leaving me trembling and unfulfilled.

"Well," I tell the room, touching my tingling lips, "that was interesting."

My body's humming with need. The man kisses like he carves – all passion and barely leashed power. And those hands. Holy hell in a handbasket. They look magical.

A whine draws my attention to the door. Scout sits there, looking mighty pleased with himself.

"Did you follow him here?" I crouch to scratch his ears. "Sneaky boy."

He wags his tail, unrepentant.

"Yeah, I like him too." I sigh. "Even if he is stubborn as a mule."

Scout woofs softly in agreement.

"But that's okay." I stand, surveying the room. The table still needs clearing, and I have so much to finish. "I'm pretty stubborn myself."

Tomorrow he'll be back, and we'll do this dance again. Only next time, I won't let him run.

Chapter 8: Marcus

Ishouldn't go back.

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