Mason (Mail-Order Brides For Christmas)

After cleaning up, I wrap the towel around my waist. I figure she’ll already be finished since she began bathing before me, but she’s still in the tub. I pull on my flannel pajama bottoms I brought. To make her more comfortable, I build a fire in the fireplace and turn off the lights so she won’t have to look at the scar on my face. Then I sit at the desk, turn the lamp on low, and listen to her singing to herself. I pick up my paper pad and pencil, thinking I’ll draw and design a new tattoo for the shop. I’m trying to stay business-minded, after all.

I don’t know how much time goes by, but as soon as Mia stops singing, it seems I come out of a trance. I got lost in the drawing as I drew Mia’s face and hair without thinking about it. Disgusted with myself, I stare at the very similar replica of her and realize that I’ve already memorized every detail of her face. I turn off the lamp, tossing the pen and paper on the desk, and lean back in the chair in the dark corner. I’m in way too deep already.

Mia

I open the bathroom door with the towel wrapped around my body. How jet-lagged am I that I forgot to bring something to change into? I’m lucky there were shampoo and soap samples for me to use. The cabin is dark except for the fire burning in the fireplace. I stand perfectly still, listening to the sounds of the house, wondering if Mason is inside or not. Besides the normal house sounds, I can’t hear him. I look out the window, and the spot where he was chopping wood before now only has an ax buried into the stump. I stare at it, and for just a second I wonder if maybe he left. I can’t see where he parked his truck from here, but I know that even if he did leave, he’ll be back. I’m not sure exactly how I know it, but I do.

I walk over to my suitcase and let the towel that’s wrapped around my body fall to the floor. I’m searching, moving things around until I feel the cool, silky material of my nightgown. I pull it out of the bag and hold it in front of me, looking for any wrinkles when I hear a grunt of a whisper behind me. “Mia.”

8

Mason

I’m frozen, gripping the desk in the dark. I’m captivated by the sexy-as-fuck strip show Mia has no idea she’s giving me. She’s so fucking beautiful. I watch her towel fall to the floor and then her searching through her bag. I get so hard it’s almost painful to watch her hold up the nightgown, knowing she’s about to cover her body from me.

I stand up and cross over to her, muttering her name on the way.

She turns just as I get to her, and I know she’s surprised that I’m standing here. I stand over her, breathing her in, feeling every move she makes because we are so close. “We’re supposed to consummate the marriage, Mia.” My voice is rough and gravely, filled with emotion. “I turned down the lights… I know my scar…”

She leans her head back to look up at me. “I don’t care about your scar,” she says vehemently and then softens. “I mean, I care how you got it, but I don’t care like you think I do. I, well, uh, I still want you.”

I cup her face to keep her looking at me. “Earlier—"

“Earlier I needed to shower. That’s the only reason I tensed up. I want this, I want it with you. And not because we have to or whatever. Because I want you.” She blows a breath out, frustrated by the way my thoughts are going.

I barely let her get the words out before I have her up in my arms, and I lay her back on the bed. She’s still gripping her nightgown in front of her, and I take it, pulling it away from her and tossing it to the end of the bed.

Standing over her, I look at every exposed part of her, taking it all in, committing it to memory. She’s breathtaking.

I lean forward and rub my knuckles along her cheek before I stroke them down her neck, across her shoulder, and down to the very peak of her breast. She trembles underneath my touch. I palm her breast, caressing her as her back arches off the bed, pushing herself deeper into my hand.

“Mason…” she moans.

“Yes?” I answer, caressing both her breasts.

“Will you kiss me… there?” she asks me huskily.

I smile, not believing that this perfect woman is my wife. My answer to her is to lean forward and replace my hand with my mouth. I suckle her as I let my hand slide between her thighs, cupping her sex. With one swipe through her sex, I find her wet and ready for me.