Page 22 of Christmas With The Broken Mountain Man
"Not a single one." I lean forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. "That's what scares me."
He pulls me closer, his hand warm against my bare back. "What we're doing isn't exactly in any relationship handbook."
"Is that what this is? A relationship?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
Mason's thumb traces circles on my shoulder blade, his expression thoughtful. "I think it's whatever we want it to be."
"What do you want it to be?"
He takes his time answering, which I appreciate. No rushed platitudes or empty promises.
"I want to be the person you trust," he finally says. "The one who makes you feel safe, who sees all of you, not just the parts you think are acceptable to show. I want to be the reason you smile like you did at the tree lighting."
My throat tightens with emotion. "That's a tall order for someone you just met."
"Is it?" His eyes hold mine. "Because I think some people crash into our lives exactly when we need them to. Call it fate or coincidence or just dumb luck, but I'm not questioning it."
"Even with everything that comes with me? The baggage, the danger, the-"
"Especially with all that." He cuts me off gently. "Your past is part of you, but it doesn't define you. And we'll figure out the danger together."
I want to believe him. God, I want to so badly. But experience has taught me that men say what they think you want to hear when they're wrapped in the warm afterglow of sex.
Mason reads my hesitation easily. "You don't have to decide anything right now. We can take this one day at a time."
His understanding nearly undoes me. I snuggle closer, pressing my face against his chest. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not pushing. For giving me space to figure things out." I place a kiss over his heart. "For last night."
His chest rumbles with a low laugh. "Last night was entirely my pleasure."
"Oh really?" I arch an eyebrow, suddenly playful. "Because I seem to recall you being pretty focused on my pleasure."
"Multiple times," he agrees, a smug grin spreading across his face.
Heat floods my cheeks at the memory. Mason was...thorough in his attention. I've never felt so cherished, so thoroughly seen and satisfied by a partner.
"I'm a bit out of practice," I admit. "Greg wasn't exactly concerned with... reciprocity."
Mason's jaw tightens at the mention of my ex, but his voice remains gentle. "Then he was a fool on top of being a monster."
His hand slides down my back, coming to rest on the curve of my hip. His touch is purposeful but not demanding, silently letting me know he's interested but leaving the decision to me.
Decision made, I press my body against his, feeling him harden against my thigh. "Maybe you could remind me of what I've been missing?"
His eyes darken with desire. "Happy to oblige."
What follows is slow and languorous, a stark contrast to last night's urgent passion. Mason takes his time exploring my body in the morning light, discovering sensitive spots that make me gasp and arch beneath him. When he finally slides inside me, it's with a reverence that brings tears to my eyes.
We move together in perfect sync, as if we've been lovers for years rather than hours. I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper, savoring the weight of him above me, the friction of him inside me. His eyes never leave mine, making it impossible to hide the intensity of my response.
"Beautiful," he murmurs as I shatter around him. "So goddamn beautiful."
He follows moments later, my name a prayer on his lips.
After, we lie tangled in sweat-dampened sheets, catching our breath. Mason plays with my hair, twirling a blonde curl around his finger.
