Page 42 of Fallen Dove
But Mason’s gaze slid right past me, cold and professional.Like I wasn’t the woman he’d kissed under the stars.Like his hands hadn’t been on me two nights ago.
The rag Thorn had left on the bar suddenly became very interesting.I grabbed it and started wiping down the counter even though it was already clean.
Another round of hollers echoed when Cora tried again and Brinks carried her off the lane like she’d just broken the record books.
My throat tightened.
That’s what I wanted.
Not the axes.Not the spectacle.But the open claim.The pride.The way those men never once hesitated to show the whole damn world that their women were theirs.
Instead, I was sneaking around.His secret.
And when Mason brushed by me again, close enough his arm grazed mine and still didn’t look at me?
It stung like hell.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mason
Tonight all I could think about was Adley.
Every time she wove through the tables, carrying a tray like she’d been doing this her whole life, my chest went tight.Her laugh cut through the noise.Her blonde hair caught the neon glow.My eyes followed her, even when I told myself not to.Especially when I told myself not to.
She’d smiled at a table of college kids earlier, and I’d damn near broken a glass in my hand.
I was losing it.
The orders piled up as Thorn juggled mixers like a circus act, and still my gaze tracked her across the room.She looked tired, cheeks flushed, but her eyes were alive.I wanted them on me.Only me.
By the time she slipped past the end of the bar with an empty tray, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Adley,” I called, my voice low.
She glanced back, that spark lighting in her eyes when she saw me.
“Can you help me in the stockroom?”I muttered, and jerked my chin toward the hall.
Her lips parted, but she didn’t argue.She set her tray down and disappeared through the swinging door.
I waited thirty seconds.Then another thirty, just to be sure no one was paying attention.My pulse hammered as I finally moved, and cut down the hallway.The noise of the bar faded, replaced by the cool quiet of the back.
The second I shut the stockroom door behind me, she was there, back against the shelves, eyes wide and her chest rising fast.
“Mason-”
I didn’t let her finish.I crossed the room in two strides and claimed her mouth.
Her gasp melted into a moan as she fisted my shirt, and pulled me closer.I pressed her into the shelving, and boxes rattled behind her as my hands slid under her shirt.Soft, warm skin under my palms.Her body arched into mine like she’d been waiting all damn night for this.
“Fuck,” I muttered against her lips.“You’re driving me insane out there.”
“Then don’t fight it,” she whispered as her hands already worked at my belt.
I groaned, caught her wrists, but only for a second.Then her fingers were free, tugging my zipper down, and I was gone.Completely gone.
I hiked her leg up around my hip, grinding against her through her jeans, the friction nearly undoing me.Her head fell back, lips parted, and a soft cry spilling out that made my vision blur.
