Page 18 of Mysterious Mate

He hesitated for a moment before moving away from the wall and walking towards her. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists and then relaxed. He stopped a foot away from her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body.

“What do you need, Willow?” His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something she couldn’t quite identify.

She held up a bottle of sunscreen. “Could you get my back? I don’t want to burn.”

For a moment, she thought he might refuse. His jaw worked, and she thought she could see the struggle in his eyes behind those dark glasses, but maybe that was only an illusion fueled by her fantasies. Just when she thought he would walk away, he took the bottle from her, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest moment.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice gruff.

Willow obeyed, her heart racing. She could feel his eyes on her as she turned, presenting her back to him. The first touch of his hands was electric, sending shivers down her spine. He was methodical, careful not to touch more than necessary, but every brush of his fingers felt like fire sparking along on her skin.

She closed her eyes, losing herself in the sensation. She could hear his breath, slow and measured, as he worked. When he finished, he stepped back quickly, as if he couldn’t trust himself to stay close any longer.

“Thank you,” she said, turning to face him. He nodded curtly and handed her the bottle before retreating to his post by the gate.

Willow watched him go, a mixture of satisfaction and frustration bubbling within her. She had gotten to him; she was sure of it. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted him to break, to let go of that rigid professional demeanor and show her the beast she was beginning to believe now lay beneath the surface.

Who was she kidding?

She wanted him to lose control and ravage her.

Another week passed in much the same way, the tension between them a constant undercurrent. Willow’s fantasies grew more vivid, more insistent, and she found herself caught in a web of desire and frustration. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn’t stop herself.

One evening, as the sun set and the sky turned a brilliant shade of orange, Willow decided to push the boundaries one more time. She waited until she knew Cage was watching, then slowly pushed the straps of her swimming suit off her shoulders, shimmying out of it and letting it fall to the ground.

She stood there, bare to the world, feeling the cool evening air on her skin. Her nipples were puckered, but more from arousal than cold. Willow could see Cage’s reaction, the way his body tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. She turned to face him, her heart pounding.

“What are you doing, Willow?” His voice was low, dangerous.

She took a step towards him, then another. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said, his eyes locked on hers.

She smiled, a slow, sultry smile. “Maybe I like danger.”

Cage’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might snap. But then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart racing, her body aching with unfulfilled desire, and feeling like a fool.

The next morning, Willow woke with renewed determination. She wasn’t going to let Cage’s stoic facade deter her. She wanted him, and she was going to make sure he knew it. She dressed in a simple sundress, the fabric light and airy, and made her way to the kitchen for breakfast.

Cage was already there, his back to her as he prepared a cup of coffee. She watched him for a moment, appreciating the way his muscles moved beneath his shirt and the strength in his shoulders.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice cheerful.

He turned to look at her, his expression neutral. “Good morning.”

She walked over to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected,” he replied, his eyes flicking over her briefly before looking away.

She leaned against the counter, sipping her coffee and studying him. “Cage, can I ask you something?”

He glanced at her, his expression wary. “What is it?”

“Why are you here?” The question hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

He took a deep breath, his gaze steady. “I’m here to keep you safe.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. Why are you really here? Why do you care so much?”

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