by Kaylea Cross
He pulled down the other strap of her dress. Her other nipple tingled, her whole body tightening as she slid her hands into his hair and urged his mouth to the straining peak.
He obliged, sucking tenderly even as the pressure of his thigh lifted from between her legs. She made a sound of protest but he cut it off with another bone-melting kiss, then paused to stare at her.
His hand stroked down the side of her dress to her bare knee and gripped her thigh just above it, the heat of his palm sending a rush of sensation straight to her aching center. “You all wet, Avery?” he murmured, his lips only a breath away from hers.
She couldn’t answer. Wouldn’t, unsure how far she was willing to take this. Semi-public sex while people passed by and her entire family was in the next room?
His thumb rubbed gently up and down on the inside of her thigh, a slow, seductive caress that made her belly contract. Mason watched her eyes as he slowly eased his hand upward, inching his hand along her inner thigh, and paused inches from the edge of her panties, his long fingers wrapping around her bare thigh.
He kissed her again, plunged his tongue between her lips to stroke hers, then withdrew. The way he watched her was so incredibly intimate. Like he was reveling in every moment of this and cataloguing her reactions. Getting off on them. It only made her hotter.
He shifted the hand on her thigh, grazing the backs of his fingers up the front of her panties. Avery made an incoherent sound and fought to stay still, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt stretched taut across his shoulder blades.
“Do you want to come, angel eyes?” he murmured.
Avery swallowed, her erratic breathing loud to her ears. She was swollen and wet. Desperate for relief, and he was so fucking sexy she couldn’t think. He had her half-naked, her breasts exposed to the cool air, yet she was burning.
He really wanted her. And she believed that he wouldn’t let anyone see them.
Her control teetered.
His hand moved, his fingers pressing lightly over the lace covering her swollen clit. “Do you?” His voice was a dark, velvet whisper. Sin and seduction, with the promise of ecstasy if she was brave enough to take it.
He grasped the edge of her lace thong and eased his fingers beneath it. Avery inhaled sharply, a ragged moan slipping out on the exhale. Oh, shit…
Mason captured the sound with his mouth, his tongue soothing hers, teasing. Making the ache in her center worse as his fingertips made contact with her swollen folds.
She fought to part her legs against his restraining hold and rock into his hand, her fingers clenching in his hair. She’d never needed like this. He’d turned her into someone unrecognizable, her entire being focused on finding the release she craved more than her next breath.
He made a low sound of either enjoyment or approval and kissed her, his fingertips unerringly finding the taut bud of her clit.
She shuddered, a soft sob ripping free. Please. Please!
He circled the nub, caressing it with careful pressure that made her knees wobble, his mouth slowly consuming hers. Her thigh muscles quivered, the heat between her legs growing to a fever pitch.
Avery gripped the back of his neck and pressed her burning cheek to his, panting. “Mason,” she gasped out.
His arm moved. Pressure registered at her core, then his fingers slid inside her, simultaneously easing the ache and making it worse while his thumb stroked her clit. She groaned and pressed tighter to him, trembling.
His free hand skimmed up her ribs to roll her taut nipple, his other busy making her mindless. He added more pressure there, stroking over the hot glow inside her. “Ride my hand,” he ordered her, everything about him rock steady. Utterly in control of the situation, and her.
Avery blindly reached down to grab the hand between her legs and clamped down on it, adding pressure so she could rock against it. Her breath halted as thick, decadent pleasure swamped her.
So close. So damn close…
Her body gathered for the final leap, her belly muscles contracting, a soft cry spilling free.
Mason turned his head and caught her mouth with his, absorbing it, his big body caging her in as she shattered. She quivered and shook, moaning into his mouth as ecstasy shot through her.
He didn’t move, didn’t change anything as slowly the pleasure began to ebb, leaving her limp and gasping, clinging to him like a drowning woman. A cool draft washed over her flushed, damp skin, the confines of the utility room registering again in her consciousness.
Mason gentled the kiss, tenderly nibbling on her lower lip before raising his head.
She was too dazed to do anything but give a small groan and rest her forehead against his shoulder. He ran a hand up her back, then gently eased her bra and dress back into place. Then, curving an arm around her back, he held her close, his hand cradling the back of her head.
His other fingers were still inside her, tiny aftershock pulses rippling around them. Finally, he eased his hand from between her legs and kissed her temple. “Stay there,” he whispered.
She released him and reached behind her to grasp a metal shelf for support. Her legs were wobbly as hell. The shock finally hit her, making her face even hotter, but she refused to regret what they’d just done. He’d just made her feel like the sexiest woman alive.
Water ran in the sink a few feet away. Avery finally let go of the shelf and tugged her dress back down, smoothing it over her legs. She straightened as Mason stepped back in front of her. She didn’t know what to say but he didn’t seem interested in that anyway, cupping her nape and kissing her slow and tender, making something low in her belly do a somersault.
Remembering how hard he’d been against her thigh a minute ago, wanting to return the favor, she slid a hand between them to press her palm against his erection. Mason groaned and licked at her lower lip, reaching down to flatten his hand over hers. He held it there and rubbed himself against her once, twice, then pulled her hand away and kissed her again.
Avery blinked up at him in surprise. Didn’t he want her to make him come too?
He searched her eyes in the dimness, the hint of a smile tugging at his incredibly sexy mouth. “That’s better. Now let’s go back out there and hit that dance floor again.”
Chapter Nine
Mason was strung taut for the rest of the reception, unrelenting desire pulsing through his whole body. Avery was quieter now, a little bit subdued with him, and he was positive she was counting down the seconds until they got out of here so she could start shoring up the barriers he’d just knocked down between them.
He wasn’t going to let that happen. He was too hooked on her now. Every time he looked at her all he could think about was what had happened in that utility room earlier.
The way she’d felt and sounded as she finally gave into her need and let him make her come. So damn sexy he was hard just thinking about it.
She didn’t know it, but she wasn’t the only one rattled by what had happened. He wanted her until he could barely breathe, except it wasn’t just physical now. She might not need or want a protector, but she was getting one anyway. The thought of anyone hurting her made him furious, and if her ex made another dick move that upset her, Mason would make him regret it. With his fist.
Mercifully the bride and groom finally left the reception forty-five minutes later. Mason glanced at Avery, his body aching like he’d wanted her for months instead of weeks. “Ready to head out?”
Her cheeks flushed as she looked away. “Sure.”
He couldn’t get her out of there fast enough. After saying their goodbyes to her family, he linked his fingers through hers and walked her outside of the main lodge into the night air. It was chilly, scattered clouds obscuring the half-moon and a layer of mist clinging to the ground.
Avery tugged her wrap tighter around her shoulder. He curled an arm around her and pulled her into his side. To his surprise she slid her arm around his waist and leaned her head on him for a moment, and damned if i
t didn’t make his chest tighten.
He’d wondered what sort of woman lay beneath her armor, and now he knew. Her combination of strength, independence and innate sensuality only made him want her a hundred times more.
The other cabins were all dark as they passed them, neither of them speaking. Mason was too focused on what would happen once they were alone to think about anything else.
He had visions of backing her up against the front door and kissing her until she clung to him like she had earlier. Rev her up until she started to melt, then pick her up and lay her down in front of the fire so he could peel that sexy-as-fuck dress and lingerie off her, and finally see everything he’d missed earlier before burying his face between her legs and making her come against his tongue this time.
“Oh, it looks so cozy,” she murmured as they neared the Ponderosa, jerking him out of his fantasy.
The staff had lit the lamps again, the warm light spilling out of the front windows onto the porch. He hoped they’d lit the fire too. He wanted to see the firelight flickering over Avery’s naked body.
On the porch, he released her and unlocked the door. Opening it, he froze and automatically pushed her behind him.
“What?” she said, trying to look around him.
Mason warded her off with one arm as he stepped inside, his muscles tensing. The cabin was trashed.
Avery pushed past him to see what the problem was. She stopped beside him, didn’t make a sound as she surveyed the damage.
Furniture had been overturned. Their suitcases emptied, the contents strewn across the floor. His stuff was thrown everywhere. Most of hers was burning to ash in a pile in the fireplace.
“What the hell,” she muttered.
Mason pushed her back toward the door. “Stay here.” Before she could argue he took off up the stairs to the loft.
At the top, he stopped and let out a low curse. The bed was ripped apart. Literally. Down feathers covered everything, the duvet ripped to shreds. Someone had taken a blade to the mattress and carved it up. Bits of foam and fabric filled the bedframe.
Rapid footsteps came up the stairs behind him. Avery peered around his shoulder. “I’m calling security now.”
She hurried downstairs to make the call. While she spoke to someone, Mason catalogued all the damage upstairs and down, a hard ball forming in his gut. Who had done this? And why burn Avery’s stuff?
Security arrived in a matter of minutes, along with the resort manager. The three men were shocked when they saw what had happened. “The door was locked when you arrived?” the manager asked.
“Yes,” Avery answered.
So whoever it was had access to the key.
“Any idea who might have done this?” a security guy asked them.
Avery glanced at Mason. “No way this was Doug. Or Keely. But whoever did this was in a rage, and it feels like it’s a personal attack on me, since those are my clothes burning in the fire.”
Yep, and that’s what bothered him most.
Mason followed the manager and security guards while they called the cops and took inventory. They didn’t find any obvious evidence about the vandal. “We’ll review security footage from the camera at the front of the cabin and show it to the police when they arrive,” the manager said. “In the meantime, we need to find you another room.”
The entire resort was booked, so Avery’s sister and family ended up moving into her parents’ suite, and Mason and Avery took her room. By the time everything was settled it was close to two in the morning. Avery came out of the bathroom wearing pajamas her sister had loaned her, looking tired.
Mason couldn’t shake the anxiety grinding in the pit of his stomach. They were at a fucking family wedding. Most of the guests were her friends and relatives. It should have been totally safe.
“You sure Doug or his wife wouldn’t have done this?” he asked her quietly as she came toward the bed where he was already stretched out on his back. Because she was right, the damage done in the cabin was personal. Whoever had broken in had wanted to leave a message for Avery. Her clothes and personal items had been burned, nothing of his.
“I’m sure.” She didn’t seem shaken at all. She was calm, her jaw set. Annoyed, not scared, and he admired her for it. Avery Dahl was a strong woman. “Doug is a lot of things, but even if he still hated my guts for whatever reason, he’d never have the balls to do something like this. And Keely’s not a psychopath, she’s just naïve about him. Besides, this kind of damage takes time, and we were all in the reception together.”
Mason wasn’t convinced. Who the hell else would have done this? “So what then, something to do with your job?”
“Maybe. I’m mulling some possibilities over.” Avery pulled the covers back and slid in next to him. “Aren’t you glad you came with me now?” she said wryly.
“Yes.” Because of what they’d done in the utility room, but also because he’d been able to spend time getting to know her, and at least he’d been here through this tonight.
She glanced over at him, her expression unreadable. “Been a long day. Let’s get some sleep. The cops will want to update us first thing in the morning.” She rolled over to switch her bedside lamp off.
Mason stared up at the darkened timbers above him, a faint amount of light hitting the ceiling where it filtered in through the wooden shutters on the window above the bed, the urge to protect and comfort her coursing through him. He rolled toward her and curved an arm around her waist. Not crowding her, just letting her know he was there, and that he cared about her.
“If you’re going to do that, you might as well get under the sheets,” she muttered.
He did, biting back a groan as he settled in close and molded his body around hers, one arm tucked beneath her head and the other locked between her breasts. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the sweet, clean scent of her shampoo, vowing to protect her.
Tonight’s message to her was personal. He was going to make sure she stayed safe while they got to the bottom of this.
****
They hadn’t seen her.
Shannon’s heart raced a mile a minute as she hid behind an outbuilding fifty yards from Avery’s cabin, elation building until she had to bite back a giggle. By now they’d seen what she’d done.
Her timing had been perfect, spotting them sneaking into that closet earlier in the lodge. It had given her the perfect opening to go to the cabin unseen and wreck everything before they arrived. When they’d walked in, Avery’s stuff would still have been burning in the fire. She’d delivered her message.
This hiding spot was perfect, and there were no lights out here. She stayed in the shadows while the manager and security came from the main lodge to check things out.
As soon as they were inside, she darted off through the night, circling around across a large lawn to the far side of the lodge. The security cameras couldn’t see her here, and neither could anyone else. Even if they did, her staff uniform wouldn’t raise any suspicion.
Other staff members were leaving when she reached their designated parking lot several hundred yards away from the guest one. No one paid her any attention as she climbed into her car, took the weapon from the back of her waistband and put it in the glove compartment before driving away.
A rush of triumph and excitement erased any remaining traces of her earlier anxiety as she hit the open road. She couldn’t wait to tell Mike about it when she saw him next. He’d love this.
But first she had to take care of the next part of her plan.
She turned her car to the west and took the highway toward Missoula. The drive was long. Twice she stopped for coffee to help keep her awake, and she arrived in the small town of Rifle Creek a little before eight in the morning. Avery and her mystery man were hours away, giving her plenty of time to get her bearings here.
She stopped at a local diner and took a booth near the back next to the window. The main part of town was cute, full of old heritage buildings, and quiet. O
nly three other people were at the diner, including one old man sitting at the counter across from her booth.
He had to be a local, because the waitress addressed him by name and didn’t pay him a whole lot of attention as he bitched about something going on with his family property that some assholes were trying to buy out from under him.
“I won’t let them do it,” he snapped, all worked up.
“I’m sure it will all work out, Ray,” the waitress said politely. “More coffee?”
He pushed his mug across the counter for her. “Why doesn’t anybody care about the way things used to be anymore?”
“Some do. Now you just enjoy your coffee and your breakfast will be out in a few minutes.” She patted his shoulder and turned to walk over to Shannon. “Morning. What can I get you?”
Shannon ordered blueberry flapjacks and scrolled through her messages and emails while she waited. There was nothing from Mike. Disappointment washed through her but she pushed it aside. Soon she would visit him again and she’d be able to tell him about everything she’d done.
The waitress arrived with the old man’s breakfast. “Can I get you anything else, Ray?”
“Naw, thanks. Whaddyou know about that new guy in town. Tate Baldwin’s friend, Mason.”
She shrugged. “Not much. They’ve come in here to eat a few times over the past few weeks. He was living with Tate when he first got here, but I heard he moved.”
“Where?”
“He took Avery Dahl’s basement suite.”
Shannon almost choked on her coffee. Her muscles drew taut. Mason. Was that the guy she’d seen Avery with?
She’d underestimated what small town life was like, and that everybody knew everybody here. It was an advantage she could put to good use.
She took her coffee over to the counter and paused next to the old man to ask for a refill, immediately smelling the booze on him. Perfect. Drunks loved to talk.
