Page 26 of Claiming Her Cougar (Shifting Pines #2)

MALLORY

If I didn’t see him take off his skates with my own two eyes, I’d assume his skates evaporated off his feet, considering how fast Liam had his sneakers on and was holding my hand as we rushed through the band of trees separating the rink from my house.

“Wow, Mallory, this is nice,” he says as we enter my kitchen through the back door.

“Thanks, I’ll give you the tour.” I spin to press a quick kiss to his lips, pulling away before he can deepen it and derail my train of thought. “Later. First, I want to show you upstairs.” I tug his hand to lead him up the back staircase. “Especially my shower.”

Chuckling, Liam follows me upstairs and down the hallway into my bedroom.

Its blue-and-yellow color scheme always makes me feel like I’m outside on a sunny spring day with soft sunlight warming my skin.

It makes me happy. I carried the theme over to my bathroom with the daisy shower curtain and yellow towels.

It’s a very feminine space, but Liam doesn’t look silly here.

He belongs. I turn on the shower, and we kiss hungrily, removing each other’s clothes.

I reach into the vanity drawer for some condoms, and Liam’s ardent gaze follows my actions.

“I like the idea, but the next time I fuck you, it’s going to be in a bed. We deserve it,” he murmurs against my neck as he gives a gentle nip and then presses a soothing kiss to the spot.

I am so wet, and it has nothing to do with the steam coming from the shower.

I peel my shirt off over my head and admire the broad chest Liam exposes when his shirt follows mine to the floor.

Our first encounter in Vegas was all about our sexy bits fitting together.

We didn’t have the opportunity, or the lighting, to see each other’s bodies and admire them.

I’m sorry I missed that. The reflection in the hotel room window during our call didn’t do justice to what I have here in front of me today.

He is glorious, with his broad shoulders and firm pecs covered by a light dusting of brown hair.

I’m so glad he doesn’t shave his chest bare.

I appreciate thoughtful manscaping as much as the next girl.

No one wants to be boinking Chewbacca, but I want some hair to show that I’m with a grown man.

Maybe it’s the dormant shifter genes in me, but I appreciate a bit of manly fur in certain spots.

No back hair, but a bit of chest hair to run my fingers through is nice.

I refocus to follow the light trail of hair down his tight abs to where it’s hidden by the waistband of his athletic pants.

They need to come off. Now. He’s kicking off his sneakers while reaching to remove my pants too.

Eventually we’re down to our underwear—black zip-front sports bra and cotton panties for me, navy-blue boxer briefs for him.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says reverently, resting his hands on my cotton-clad hips and pulling me toward him.

His boxers contain his heavy erection, but it still presses against my belly as he moves his hands from my hips to the cheeks of my ass.

I’m wearing the least sexy undies I own, but I feel like a goddess nonetheless.

“May I?” he asks, reaching for the zipper of my sports bra.

I nod, grateful I chose this one, so there were no awkward contortions trying to get out of a pullover sports bra.

I’m a full-figured woman—my sports bras serve a purpose and are feats of engineering.

They aren’t decorative. The rasp of the zipper lowering joins the sound of the water flowing in the shower.

The look of lust and awe that comes over Liam’s face when he sees my naked breasts for the first time is something I’ll remember forever.

Glancing in the mirror, I can see the seam lines from the bra pressed in my skin, but in this moment I don’t care.

The flush crawling up my chest is from desire, not embarrassment.

I shimmy out of my panties as Liam shucks his boxer briefs.

Wow. I’ve had the man inside me. I’m well aware he’s been blessed with length and girth.

I just wasn’t expecting his cock to be so…

pretty. That’s such a ridiculous thing to say.

Penises are big, jutting, curved to the left, whatever.

They aren’t pretty. But his is. It’s straight and proud, bobbing a bit toward his belly button like an excited racehorse ready to enter the starting gate.

The vein that runs along the shaft to the broad head of his erection—oh lord, I can’t believe I used a phrase right out of a romance novel—is prominent and just so manly.

“Come on.” I grab his hand and open the door to the shower. The steam billows out around us. “Time to get cleaned up so we can get dirty.”

The warm water rains down on us, and I revel in it. Liam’s body is glorious, with the water cascading over his muscles. I can see the feline grace of his body now and, man, I want him. Shower first, then sexy times.

Strong hands flex on my hips, pulling me closer to his body.

“You are so sexy,” Liam rasps, placing passionate kisses along my shoulder and up my neck.

Even though we’re under the warm spray of the shower, goosebumps break out on my skin from his kisses.

“You’re pretty hot yourself, cowboy.” I tilt my head so he can better access my neck for his kisses.

“Cowboy? What kind of weird fantasy do you have?” Liam asks with a chuckle.

“Shut up and kiss me,” I demand. No way am I sharing my love of cowboy romances and my current Netflix binge about a Canadian horse ranch and the drama that goes along with it.

I love it when a man listens to me, and the kiss Liam plants on my lips doesn’t disappoint.

Why have I been denying myself this for weeks?

His lips are firm and mobile against mine, and the strokes his tongue makes against mine remind me of what it felt like to have other parts of him stroking inside me all those months ago.

As fun as this is, the sooner we shower, the sooner we can fall into my bed and continue this encounter to a mutually satisfying conclusion.

With reluctance, I pull back from our kiss and grab the washcloth I snagged from the linens shelf and my body wash. I know it’s crazy. I’ll have sex with this man but won’t share my loofah. Loofahs are so personal. I squirt some body wash on the cloth and rub it to get it to lather.

I push on Liam’s shoulder to get him to turn around and run the washcloth along his broad shoulders and down his back.

I look at the marvel that is his ass. He may not have been skating for years, but he still has the butt and muscular thighs of a top-tier hockey player.

I can’t wait to see him in a suit in person.

I got a glimpse when we FaceTimed a few days ago, but I want to appreciate it fully.

He must get them tailored so they accommodate his trim waist, apple-shaped ass, and thick thighs.

I stop washing at his waist and start on his arms. I run the cloth from his shoulder to his wrist on the right and go to repeat the motion on his left arm.

The long, thin scar running down the back of his upper arm stops me.

Liam looks over his shoulder and finds me looking at it.

“I forget it’s there. Got it in the accident.

Compound fracture. They had to put a titanium plate in to put the bone back together.

They told me I was lucky it didn’t affect my shoulder or elbow.

” He gives a mirthless laugh. I assume he didn’t consider it lucky. “You can’t hurt it. You can wash it.”

I run the cloth over it and then press my lips to it. I rest my forehead against his shoulder and close my eyes. How bad must the accident have been that it caused that kind of damage?

As if he can read my mind, Liam reassures me. “I’m okay, Mallory. That wasn’t the worst injury. It just left the most dramatic scar. Well, that and the burns.”

“Burns?” I jerk my head from his shoulder and shake my wet hair from my face.

“Just on my leg. All healed.” He turns and extends his left leg. Now that I know where to look, I can see faint scars on his upper calf and lower thigh. “Engine fire. I’m good. Let’s refocus.”

How can he be so nonchalant about what he’s been through?

Or feign nonchalance so well? If these injuries weren’t the worst, what else has this poor man been through?

A few scars have no effect on my attraction to him, but I can’t help to think about the pain he must have suffered, not only physically but also emotionally from losing the ability to play the sport he loves.

I know shifters heal more quickly from injury, but to have these scars despite his shifter constitution, they had to be severe.

He tilts my chin and claims my lips again. This kiss isn’t as hungry, but it does the trick to stop me thinking about anything other than us naked in my shower.

Pulling back this time, he suggests, “How about we each wash ourselves to get the job done efficiently and then spend as much time as we want exploring each other horizontally?”

“Good idea,” I agree. There are over six feet of muscled glory I want to spend hours exploring. And a good nine inches I want to pay special attention to. Wow!

I grab my loofah, squirt some body wash on it, and add a squirt to Liam’s washcloth to refresh it. He washes himself quickly and is generously washing my back for me when I hear a sound from my darkest nightmare.

“Mallory? We came home early for Christmas. Dad’s getting the bags from the car, but I’m going to suggest we go to the tree farm to say hi. I can buy you and your…friend half an hour, maybe an hour to, um, finish up.”

Any sexy thoughts I was entertaining desert me. Turning around and glancing down at Liam’s cock, I see Mom’s appearance had a similar effect on him.

“Hey, Mom,” I croak out. “Welcome home. See you in a bit.”

Liam’s wide eyes meet mine in disbelief.