Page 14 of Snug with the Mountain Man
He glances back. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Hard to sleep when a six-foot-something giant is growling at my appliances.”
That earns the faintest curve of his mouth. “Coffee’s ready.”
I stand, stretching, pretending not to notice how his eyes drag down my legs before he looks away. “You stayed.”
“Road’s bad in a few places after a rain like that,” he says. “Safer to wait.”
“Sure,” I say lightly, padding over to the counter. “Safety first.”
He pours a mug and slides it toward me, careful not to touch my fingers. The distance between us feels deliberate, sharp-edged.
I take a slow sip, eyes on him over the rim. “So we’re just not going to talk about it?”
He tenses. “About what?”
“Last night.”
He sets his cup down. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Really? Because it felt like a lot was happening for there to be nothing.”
“Maisie.” His voice drops, rough. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I take a half-step closer. “Don’t remind you that you kissed me? Or don’t remind you that you liked it?”
He exhales through his nose, jaw tight. “You’re playing with fire.”
“I thought you liked fire,” I whisper.
His eyes lift to mine, dark, steady, unguarded for once. Something pulls tight in the space between us.
I move first. My fingers brush his when I reach for the sugar jar. His hand closes reflexively around mine, heat shooting up my arm.
“Careful,” he says.
“I am.”
“Maisie.”
I look up at him, innocent. “What?”
He mutters something that sounds like a curse. Then he grabs the counter edge like he’s trying to stop himself from doing something.
I smile a little, slow and deliberate. “You don’t have to pretend you didn’t want that kiss.”
He looks at me then, really looks, and something in his face changes. The control, the distance, it all fractures.
In two steps, he’s in front of me, his hand sliding around my waist, the other at the back of my neck. The coffee mug hits the counter with a dull clink.
“You drive me crazy,” he says, voice low and rough.
“Good.”
I barely finish the word before his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is brutal, hungry, nothing polite about it. His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls me closer, hard enough to make me gasp. My hands find his shoulders, then his hair, tugging, urging him closer.
