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A few hours later, I crawl into my entirely too big-for-one-person bed after the most delectable bath, and my eyes instantly feel heavy. But I can’t fall asleep. My mind won’t rest. It’s probably due to the fact that I was almost kidnapped eight hours ago. I toss and turn for what feels like ages., growing more and more frustrated. I hear the faintest knock at the door. I know it’s Mac. While the other two are out, he was tasked with babysitting me for the night.
“Come in.”
“Hey, Princess. I just wanted to see if you needed anything before I went to bed.”
The second I look at him, I want him in my bed. I want to feel safe. But I can’t ask him for that. Can I?
No, I’ve known the man for only a few days. I certainly don’t want him to think I’m some floozy by inviting him into my bed.
“Umm, no, I think I’m okay.”
“Alright. Well, goodnight. I’ll be just down the hall if you need anything.”
Before he can take so much as a step, “Actually…”
Mac looks at me inquisitively, “Yeah…”
“Could you umm… I mean, you don’t have to… but…” I can’t quite seem to spit it out.
He takes two steps toward me, “What do you need, Princess?”
Princess.
That pet name warms my insides like the best cup of coffee during an east coast snow storm.
“Could you–could you lay with me? Just for a little while. I can’t sleep, and it might help.”
He pauses only for a moment before smiling, “Of course. I’ll stay as long as you need.”
He slides off his shoes and, to my happy surprise, his shirt. As he stands before me in only his jeans, I have to stop myself from reaching out, crawling across the bed, and running my tongue over his perfectly chiseled abs.
The man is a walking wet dream.
Just as he’s about to climb onto the bed, I lift the covers, “You can climb in if you want.” Without a word, he slides under the covers and puts his hands behind his head.
I roll over to face him and forget how to breathe. He is beautiful.
You’re really testing yourself tonight, Harp.
Every muscle looks like it was carved from stone by gods. Whereas Ronan has a mixture of random tattoos covering his body, Mac’s look to be intricately designed Celtic designs. They really are works of art.
A slight stubble has covered his jaw since I met him, and all I can think about is how it would feel against my skin. I force my eyes closed to stop from staring. Through closed eyes, I whisper, “Thank you… for staying.”
“Of course, get some rest.”
After a while, I’m still not asleep. And am growing even more restless. Probably because all I want to do is jump Mac’s bones.
He notices my constant fidgeting and a small laugh escapes his lips, “Come here, Princess.”
I open my eyes, and he has an arm stretched out in my direction, the other one remaining tucked behind his head. Eagerly, maybe too much so, I scoot over and rest my head on his warm chest as he wraps his arm around me, his chest hair rubbing against my cheek. The second his arms wrap around me, I feel safer than I have since my parents died.
Mac moves his hand up and down my arm as if he’s trying to get me to relax.
His face presses against the top of my head as he takes a deep breath.
Did he just smell my hair?
Unsure of how to respond to the intimate gesture, I remain quiet and wiggle against him. Wanting my body to be as close to his as possible.
