Page 6

NYLA

T he wayward thought fluttered across my mind in a tempting caress, or maybe that was his thumbs brushing back and forth across my pulse points in the ultimate distraction.

“Stop that,” I murmured, tugging my hands free, but his fingers closed in a firm circle around my wrists.

“Not just yet.” Mason stepped into my space, filling it with everything I’d been aching for in the last weeks.

What I didn't know I had been missing from my life until our lives collided because of my son who loved to kick up dust balls and run amok in all the best ways. But right now, Brady wasn't about to distract either of us.

“Are you stalking me?” I tried for a lighter tone, tugging at his hold still, but both of us knew there was little effort in the motion.

And he didn’t let go.

“If that’s what it needs to be. I didn’t want to let you run away like that. You seemed…” Mason frowned.

“I know you’ve got a job to do, Nyla. Hell, I’m working when I see you too, in the afternoons. It’s like we’re orbiting around each other’s lives, two magnets that bump across each other but never match up. But I’m tired of waiting.” The intensity of him ratcheted up to blazing point as he released one wrist.

A cold spot bloomed where he had touched me.

The absence of his skin contacting mine left me bereft in an instant.

I raised my hand self-consciously.

“I want to—” I stared, but stopped when I wasn't sure what, exactly, I wanted.

It didn’t matter, because Mason filled in the blanks for me.

His free hand scooped through my hair where it hung down my back like a heated curtain, cupping my nape. Long, strong fingers latched across my jaw, angling my head back. He gave me a fraction of a second to object, but either my head didn’t like playing catch up tonight, or?—

I didn’t want to object to anything he offered.

His mouth crashed down onto mine, his kiss hard and possessive. A tiny sound I couldn’t prevent slipped from my lips that might have been a sigh, or surrender. I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was the moment before he kissed me, those dark eyes of his filled my world, full of blazing intensity. And then I didn’t think at all.

Because I didn’t have to.

My body took over, knowing exactly what it wanted from this man who had featured in plenty of my filthy one a.m. fantasies when I couldn't sleep and needed to keep my panic attacks at bay.

I leaned back against the wall behind me, rising onto my toes to reach him.

My heels did little to negate the height difference between my five foot, five inches and the giant towering over me.

Not that it seemed to bother him.

Mason growled against my mouth, flicking his tongue across the seam of my lips impatiently.

I gasped at the sensation as he surged forward.

His tongue pushed into my mouth as his knee nudged between my legs.

I moaned at the dual sensation, unprepared for the overwhelm that left me shaking in his arms after so little contact from anyone for so long.

Starved for affection?

But he removed my ability to think with every touch, and I was grateful for that.

Mason released my other wrist to sink his fingers into my hip, squeezing roughly.

The second sound that tore from my lips froze me in place as my mind slammed into gear.

I leaned back but he came with me, his kisses insistent, unceasing.

The taste of him, the peat whiskey he’d been drinking, paired with something sweeter, rolled through me.

I knew I’d associate that scent with him forever.

My hands slid up his chest and with the last remnant of my willpower, I drew everything I had left behind a single effort and pushed .

Mason didn’t so much as budge, but he did lean back a bare inch, breaking this kiss that left me somewhere in No Reindeer Land, my lips halfway between bruised and tingling.

I hated how much I loved that sensation and craved more of it.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, his brow dipping as he searched my face.

The hand at my hip softened a touch, but he didn’t let me go.

“Nyla? What did I do?”

I didn’t realise I was panting until I tried to etch a word out.

“You– I– Here–” I closed my mouth and tried to make a full sentence like a proper grown up.

It took me two more tries and bless, Mason must’ve had the patience of a reindeer patron saint to deal with me right then.

“I can’t do this. Not here. Please,” my voice cracked on that last word.

The pressure of his fingers on my hip lessened as he eased back a step.

“Alright.”

“Okay.” This is too easy.

Or just wrong.

The moment Mason stepped back, releasing his grip on my neck, I could breathe and think clearly again.

Part of me wanted to scream for him to come back, but I pushed him away and I couldn't rescind that. Because what I'd said was true.

We couldn’t do this here.

Intimacy. Anything resembling a personal moment more than the precious seconds we just stole.

Not with the chance of his teammates or coach, who frankly scared all hell out of me, walking back down those stairs at any moment.

Or one of my girls, or worse, coming through the swinging doors.

And if I just shattered the only moment I’ll ever have with him?

My heart cramped in my chest at the thought, the smoky/sweet taste of him lingering on my tongue.

I raised my fingers to my still tingling lips.

His narrowed gaze locked in on the movement .

“Are you gonna let me take you somewhere so we can…keep talking?”

A twisted laugh bubbled in my throat that I managed to keep to myself lest I paint a picture of an insane reindeer before him.

“Talking? That’s what we’re calling this?” I hissed, pointing a crooked finger between us.

Mason’s slow smile was beyond devastating.

“Gorgeous, you can call it whatever the hell you want, as long as you promise me that’s not the last time I’ll taste that mouth…or other parts of you.” His gaze took a lazy survey of my body that overheated on demand.

My reindeer persona melted on the spot.

“I’m just going to take Rudolph for a walk before I need to change,” I muttered, fanning myself to his booming laughter.

So much for keeping a stolen moment to ourselves.

“You are not out of trouble, Mason Hale.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Nyla.” The way my name rolled off his tongue left me shivery and hot all at once.

I slipped out of the dark space as the fluorescent light bulb made a desperate dash for life.

It flickered too brightly right as I sneaked into the kitchen to find Chaz giving me a thumbs up.

Brady’s flushed face stared up at me from the dishwashing station where he wore an oversized t-shirt that far from fitted his slim frame.

A bright smile split his face.

The fluorescent bar behind me glowed like the sun.

Too bright—as every light in the kitchen seemed to follow suit, before the entire restaurant plunged into darkness.

I covered my face in my hands, and let out a small wail as the music died as well.

Apparently, the front of the house ran on the same fuse, or the box had blown entirely.

Who knew?

“Myla, power’s out,” Captain Obvious—probably Josie—called from what sounded like the bar.

“Fucking brilliant,” I muttered into my hands, hoping my words came out muffled.

From the snicker that came from one of the tables near the kitchen at my back, apparently my hands didn’t muffle shit.

Nor did the silence do a damn thing for the volume of my overly enthusiastic son who chose that moment to yell at the top of his lungs, “Hey, Mum! Did you kiss Mason Hale?”

Cue more restaurant general hilarity and my freshly reinstated Rudolph status.

Chaz flicked on his phone flashlight app that nearly blinded me as I raised my face to find him still giving me a thumbs up.

The smile slid off his face as I pivoted on my heel to deal with whatever stood behind me.

Please be Mason. Please be Mason.

But I knew even as I turned around from the overpowering, atrociously super sweet aftershave that accosted me that it wasn’t the male specimen that I hoped for.

Stuart glowered at me as I faced off with him in a stale, silent moment.

Then he jerked his head toward the door at the back of the kitchen.

“Outside. You can fix this.”

I didn’t know if he meant the blacked out restaurant, my drooping reindeer costume or my untimely kiss with a rugby star on his premises.

Nor did I really want to find out.

But he was still technically my employer, as well as my ex, so I followed him through the kitchen in a walk of shame, my antlers held as high as my costume allowed while Chaz cheered quietly for me.

Welp, at least I had someone’s support.

Tonight, I’d take that with both hands.

Hooves, even.

I even managed not to let the door hit me on my tailpiece on the way out.