Under His Protection (Protect and Defend 1)

Her lips pursed, delicate dark blonde brows arched and he swore the expression on her face asked, “Like what you see?”

She was innocence and temptation combined. One minute she was the shy, scared girl and the next, a bold, seductive woman. He didn’t understand her.

But he wanted her.

Christ, how she tempted him. What would she do if he went to her? Would she be surprised? Or expecting him? He imagined grabbing her, yanking the nightgown clean from her body. Take her from behind right where she stood. Against the window, her lush breasts pressed against the cool glass as he thrust his cock inside her welcoming body again and again.

That’s what she asked for, putting on this little show. She wanted him, he wanted her. But he refused to get involved.

In other words, he was screwed.

Frustration ripp

ed through him and with a growl, he flicked on the lamp, then reached for his cell phone. Hit the speed dial for Blake’s number.

He was going to make her stop. Now.

Blake’s cell phone rang but she ignored it, too intent on driving a certain man crazy with desire.

Was it working? She had no clue. She couldn’t see him. It was too dark within his room, though the curtains were open. It would’ve been so much easier if he’d stayed in the house with her. He reassured her she was safe before he left for the night. The entire cabin had been bugged or tricked out with the latest in technology. He’d know if someone entered her cabin before she would.

Her cell stopped ringing only to start again and she gave a little murmur of frustration. Who’d call at this time of night anyway? Her parents were already in bed and not like she had any real friends. Not anymore.

She went to the dresser and checked the caller ID. Snapping the phone up, she answered it with a breathless hello.

His harsh breath sounded in her ear and she swallowed hard. He sounded angry, agitated.

He also sounded—dare she think it—aroused.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The sound of his growling baritone made her instantly wet and she squeezed her legs together to ease the ache.

“So you are watching.” She couldn’t help but smile.

“Blake.” His voice was a warning but she had no interest in listening.

“Did you like it, Mason? Do you like what I’m wearing?”

“Shut the blinds, draw the curtains, whatever you have on your window, just cover it.”

“But then you won’t be able to see me.”

“That’s the point.”

“It’s your job to see me. To watch over me, right?”

He sighed, the sound blowing directly into her ear and she shivered. He sounded so forlorn, she almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

“You need to stop.” The weariness in the demand softened it considerably.

“Stop what?” She turned to stare out the window, wishing she could see him. Was he still watching? Could he see her sliding her hand over her breast, down her stomach?

The harsh intake of his breath sounding in her ear told her yes, he could.

“Do you want to watch me touch myself?” she whispered, her heart in her throat. She couldn’t believe she said it. If he turned her down, she’d cry.

Oh, she felt wicked. What had gotten into her? She never behaved like this, was never tempted to put herself on such blatant display for a man.