Mac (Mountain Men 2)

Okay, so that’s adorable. Treats for his mum.

I take a bite and follow it with my coffee. I haven’t had one in ages, and it tastes so damn good I moan a little, capturing a stray crumb with the tip of my tongue. “Delicious,” I whisper.

His eyes follow my tongue, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“What’s that?” he says, his voice a little lower and husky.

Oh my God. Am I affecting him? Is he turned on by me? The very idea makes me all squirmy.

I decide to test the theory.

I take a second bite, a larger one so my mouth is filled with the rich, mildly sweet treat. “Mmm,” I moan, licking the crumbs off my lips again.

“Jaysus,” he mutters, his voice ragged and gravelly. I place my hand on the desk between us, bracing myself for the sudden rush of emotion and arousal at his husky voice. His thumb flicks over the top of my hand, rough and sensual, and I shiver with excitement. I watch him lick his lips and swallow again. I want to trace the outline of his Adam’s apple with my tongue. God.

I’m so damn flattered that he’s attracted to me, I’ve damn near lost all sense of propriety. I look out the door of the shop to find my guard standing there with his back to us, fingers laced behind his back.

“That’s my bodyguard. He’s usually watching every fucking move,” I whisper, leaning over so Mac can hear me. “I wonder why he isn’t staring at us.”

Mac leans even closer, and damn, he smells good. Once when I was a child, I spent a holiday in the Norwegian mountains, and for some reason his scent reminds me of that. Warm, sensual, gently spicy. Masculine and virile.

“We’re fine. I know why he isn’t watching us,” Mac whispers. “I happened to let it drop that the girl at the coffee shop was hot for him and that she’d be by in a bit to say hello. He’s on the lookout.” He looks back over to me. “Can you tell me why you have a bodyguard, Bryn?”

I shrug. “My father’s a little overprotective.”

He gives me a slow smile, the kind that makes my heart beat faster. “Aye, understood. If you were mine, I’d feel the same.”

I grin, and a lock of hair falls in my eyes. He reaches over and gently tucks it behind my ear, letting his thumb brush the apple of my cheek. “Will the girl come to see him?”

He grins, his teeth perfectly white and straight. He looks like one of those bodybuilders on the cover of a men’s magazine.

“Maybe,” he whispers. “Eventually. It’ll keep him busy.”

A part of me wonders if I should fear him now, when he’s clearly manipulated my bodyguard, come into my shop, and could hurt me if he wanted to. But there’s nothing but pure lust in his eyes as we draw closer.

My heartbeat accelerates. I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in my life. Just as he draws nearer, his breath on my lips, my phone rings. It’s my father’s ringtone. I close my eyes and pull away.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I have to get it. It’s my father and he gets furious if he’s left waiting.”

Goddammit.

I blink back tears as I answer, and I’m embarrassed that I let myself get so affected. I get to my feet and walk to the back of the store so Mac doesn’t need to hear me.

“Where are you?”

“Oh, hello, Dad. I’m good, thanks, and you?” I grit my teeth.

He curses under his breath. “I’m good, Bryn. I asked where you are.”

“In town, why?” He’s got a guard right outside the door, so it’s a curious question.

“I need to speak to you.”

“Something you can’t tell me over the phone?”

“No, my love, I’m very sorry.” My father is not a nice or loving man, but he can play the part. “It’s terribly urgent. Come here within an hour. Please?”

He tacks the please on at the end, unaccustomed to niceties.

The phone disconnects, and I clench my fingers around my mobile.

Mac’s staring at me.

“You alright?” he asks, genuine concern in his eyes. Those blue, blue eyes.

“Oh, I’m fine,” I say with a forced smile. “Figures my father had to interrupt just as—well, just as you…”

My voice trails off, and I’m suddenly self-conscious. He prowls closer to me. I crane my neck to look up at him, since he’s easily a full head taller than I am.

“Just as I what?” he asks teasingly, tipping his head to the side. “Just as I was about to do this?”

Within seconds, I’m pressed up against the wall, his hand at my neck. His touch is gentle but firm, and in that moment, it’s exactly what I need. His mouth meets mine, insistent but tender, and our breaths mingle. His hand on my neck tightens, the firm touch making my mouth part, and as I gasp into his mouth, his other hand presses against the small of my back. There’s a possessiveness about him that makes my knees wobble and my heart beat faster.