Page 66 of Poet & Protector

This was one of those times where it was obvious why Mason and Ansel were best friends. They had the same sheer exuberance for life and found pure joy in things like new places and free cookies. With Ansel, I simply thought it was cute, but in Mason it added yet another layer to all the reasons I found him irresistible.

“That cookie was amazing,” he told me. “And I only tried one kind. There are, like, five. You should have some. We can compare notes. I took a candy cane-shaped one. Pick something different. We can rank our favorites and then we can write Tom and Caleb a really detailed review, like we’re food critics, as a thank you note—but, you know, a hilarious one.”

He was completely serious. If I didn’t have more pressing interests, I’d take him up on it. Maybe later. It was a pretty great idea.

“I’m not hungry,” I replied, leaning against the bedroom door frame.

“They’re cookies.” He frowned at me. “Hunger is not required.”

I laughed, staying where I was. Mason had no idea, but I was far too wound up to eat anything and would be until he figured out why I brought him here. And then I’d be wound up for entirely different reasons.

At the moment, however, I was content to watch him explore, my gaze drinking in his every movement, my heart warm and light in my chest in spite of my galloping pulse.

When Mason peeked inside the fridge, he grinned. “There’s charcuterie in here. And champagne! And chocolate covered strawberries. Is this really all for us? It’s like a honeymoon cabin or something…”

He went very still, then slowly stood. The fridge door closed as he turned to look at me, his eyes wide, then narrowing.

I smiled at him, my pulse kicking up another several notches, even as I kept my voice flat. “I’m not proposing.”

His eyes narrowed even more.

“Just establishing expectations,” I said, knowing my bland tone would irk him. “Don’t want to disappoint you.”

Pivoting away, I ambled through the door into the next room.

“Nev.” Mason’s irritated voice trailed after me.

I’d left the lights off in the bedroom and, as I’d hoped, the fire was now lively and crackling, its flames bathing the room in warm hues.

It was perfect, but I hesitated, suddenly unsure of where I should be.

Did I wait near the fireplace? The bed? By the windows? Should I be standing at all? Maybe I should sit on the bed? Lying on the bed was just…too obvious. I guess it could be funny, but funny wasn’t what I was going for here.

I ended up not deciding because Mason walked into the room, scowling at me. His eyes tracked around the space, settled on me for a moment, then his gaze made another, much slower circuit. His scowl vanished. I watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallowed. My body tightened in response to the sudden tautness of his limbs. I inhaled, slow and deep. Mason’s familiar scent of sun-warmed summer meadow was there, and beneath it, the warm spice and musk of his rising lust.

Yes.

I took a step toward him.

“You said Tom and Caleb invited us here.” Mason frowned slightly.

The corners of my mouth tipped up. “I should clarify. They offered to let us stay here tonight. Very generous of them, I thought.”

Mason held my gaze. He swallowed again.

“This is ours?” he asked, his voice roughening. “Just ours?”

I nodded.

“All night?”

“Would you rather be out in the snow?” I teased, but my heart was pounding.

Maybe I’d assumed too much in bringing him here, in setting all of this up with Tom and Caleb as a surprise. I should have talked to Mason first, I should have⁠—

He tackled me, his body barreling into mine with such force a harsh grunt flew out of my chest as he wrestled me onto the bed.

As he bent over me with his knees straddling my hips, his mouth moved along my neck, my jaw, nipping, kissing. The wet heat of his lips and tongue gliding over my skin paired with the occasional scrape of his teeth felt unbelievable.