Page 10 of Fearless Protector
I towel dry my hair, before tossing the towel over the shower rod to dry and my clothes next to it, so they won’t wrinkle.I rummage through the cabinet doors below the sink, hoping against hope that there’s something I can use because sleeping with wet hair in this chilly cabin would not be smart.I hold up the old dusty relic, and plug it in, smiling as it begins blowing hot air out of the big ass vent on the side.
The minute I’m done, exhaustion from a long day of work, partying, and emotional fear kicks in like a lion.I yawn my way down the hall, coming to the first bedroom door.I grin.A piece of two by two has been nailed to the outside of the door.I guess Bobby Ray is tucked in good for the night.
I glance into the next bedroom at Jules sleeping soundly.The light begins to flicker in my dull ass brain.Now I know why Jules, who is usually a night owl on steroids, was in such a hurry to turn in.To take the only other twin bedroom.
The one that is not with the tall, dark, handsome, fine specimen of a man who must be sleeping in the only bedroom with room for two.
I should dump her on the floor and take her bed, but she needs sleep more than I do with the amount of alcohol she put away tonight.At least I went home, showered, and had something substantial to eat before heading to the party.The little matchmaker.
I’m not about to go into that bedroom down the hall where a handsome bodyguard sleeps.I’ve put myself out there once tonight.That took more courage or stupidity than I thought I had in me, but I’m not about to be rebuffed again.I pad back down the hall and feel my way around in the dark, until my hand runs along the arm of a sofa.
This will have to do.I go to sit on the sofa, and a hand snakes out, reaching for me, and pulls me on top of him.“What the!”
“Don’t be scared.It’s just me,” Mason says, stroking my hair.
“What are you doing here?I thought you were in the bedroom,” I whisper hiss.
“I saved it for you.”
“Oh..”
“You smell like me.Have you been using my soap, Priscilla Jean?”
God, I love it when he says my name like that.“Uh huh.”
He runs his hands along my back and tugs at the end of my t-shirt that’s risen up and now barely covers my ass.You’re wearing my shirt, aren’t you, little missy?”
Oh, lord his western charm.“I didn’t have anything else to wear.”
He pushes my hair away from my face.“You can get up any time you want, but I’d like you to stay.”
My chest tightens, and my stomach flutters.I am far from drunk now.I’m as stone cold sober as they come, maybe a little hungover with the aftereffects, but I know exactly what I’m doing.If I stay, this is going all the way, because Lord knows we both want it to end exactly that way.
And then tomorrow will come, and he won’t acknowledge that I exist.He’ll be halfway back to Nevada while I recharge my hatred of out of towners.But, if I know what to expect, how can I be mad?It makes more sense now than it ever did.I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it.“I want to stay,” I whisper in his ear.
Mason cradles my face and kisses me long and hard, pushing my hair from my face, and then trails a path of heat down the length of my spine.He draws back from the kiss but keeps his lips against mine.“I want my shirt back, Priscilla Jean.”
I sit up slightly, my knees sliding to either side of his waist, while he lifts the shirt up my back, only breaking our kiss to slide it over my head.My eyes have adjusted to the dark, and I watch as he takes in every inch of my body.“More beautiful than anything I could have ever imagined.”
My stomach flutters again, and this time I kiss him, because after that, he can have any damn thing he wants.He pulls the blanket that was laying over the top of the couch over us.“I want you something fierce; not easy and gentle, but in the worst of ways.”He pushes his pajama bottoms down and rubs his hard length against me.
Oh, good Lord, he knows what I like.I’ve gone to heaven and died already.“I don’t like it easy, Mason.Take me your way, but do it fast because I swear I’m going to explode.”
And he does, driving right to the very end of me, again and again, pulling me down atop that long, hard rod, hitting that special spot, over and over again, until my mind fills like a million stars on a clear summer night.
Chapter9
Mason
Ilay for hours with her on top of me, listening to her sleep and feeling the soft whisper of her breath against my chest as I cradle her in my arms.Never once have I shared my bed, always leaving before any awkwardness could occur.Never once have I slept even an hour with another soul.But yet, I would kill any man dead who interrupted the sleeping angel in my arms right now.
This is what it feels like when you’ve found the one.The one they always say will sneak up and cause you to forget everything you thought you wanted in life; the one who will steal your heart before you’ve barely had a chance to know what happened.This wasn’t supposed to happen to me.
I stroke my dark-haired angel as she sleeps against my chest, holding her tight with the knowledge that things in my life will probably never be the same.Because I already know this is different from anything I’ve ever felt.My chest expands, breathing in sync with hers as the realization syncs in and a full day and night exhaustion pulls me under.
The next time I wake, hours later, the warmth of her body has been replaced with the blanket the two of us shared last night.I put it on the back of the couch and head to the bathroom.
My bag is still laying on the floor where I left it last night, and my t-shirt is folded and sitting on top of it, along with a folded piece of spiral notebook paper, the edges torn as though it’s been ripped right out of its binding.I lean against the sink counter while I open the letter.Something again, I’ve never received from any woman in my life.
