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A slow yawn escaped from my mouth. I was tired, it had been a long ass day.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, I felt my body being lifted by big strong hands. Rest hadn’t come my way in hours and all I wanted to do was give into it. Even though I knew it was Mason picking me up, I had little energy to fight him off.
Tiredness crept into my voice, “What are you doing?”
He offered a smirk and I felt us beginning to walk away from the couch. “You’re tired. I’m putting you to bed, Darlin.”
He used his foot to kick open the door to his room.
“Whose bed?” I yearned for sleep, a yawn coming out of nowhere now and I allowed my head to rest against his shoulder.
“Mine, Darlin…”
His words woke me up but it was too late. He was already placing me into his bed, covering me up and walking away.
“Mason…”
He stopped walking, just about to close the door. The light from the hallway shinned across the top of his blue black hair causing a glow like a halo almost.
I knew that was a desperate lie I could tell myself.
Mason was the prince of darkness. He was not an angel, and I don’t think he’d ever pretended to be, so there was no way in hell I was going to trick myself into thinking otherwise.
He didn’t wait for my answer and closed the door, “Goodnight, Darlin.”
Rolling onto my back, I snuggled into his comforter surrounded by the smell of him.
Cedar, I thought.
I’d done camp a few times in my life, and I definitely knew what cedar smelled like. That was part of what Mason smelled like, cedar and just a hint of death. The thought caused a shiver down my back and finally I closed my eyes ready for sleep to find me.
I needed out of this house, and out of this state.
My nightmares were starting to come true because sometimes, late at night, I would wake up after having the most intense orgasmic dreams. Orgasms delivered by the horseman of death himself.
Yup,I thought.Gotta get the fuck out of Alaska.
ChapterThree
Mason
Icould still smell her all over me, despite the fact that the rain storm should have cleansed all scents from her body. I could still feel her, the weight of her body pressed against my skin as I carried her into my bedroom. She had actually snuggled into me.
Before I picked her up, I watched her sleeping in the chair. She’d been curled up in my oversized t-shirt, her hair in loose, damp, dark waves slightly covering her face. It was peaceful watching her sleep and it shocked me that I didn’t mind her presence in my house.
No one had ever been in my house before.
I was here only for a short while in the summer and every once in a while during the winter. Mostly, I was in my loft in Seattle and working at the discretion of Sebastian DeLuca. My boss entered my thoughts and I retrieved the letter he’d sent by his personal assistant who was now sleeping in my bed. For a few hours now, it had been sitting on top of the mantle above the fireplace drying.
I’d known Sebastian my entire life.
His sister had been the only woman I’d ever loved.
The letter had to have been about her or else he never would have invaded my free time. He had plenty of other people at his beck and call. Knowing this letter was going to require liquor and a cigarette, I grabbed a bottle of bourbon and went to stand outside on the porch.
Another storm had started up, rain beating down like it was on a path of vengeance. The porch protected me from most of the wind and with the porch light illuminating the pages of the letter my eyes scanned over the document. The coolness of the menthol cigarette smoke entered my lungs, filling them with its dirty carcinogens.
Nasty habit,I thought.
