Page 21 of Shelter for Shay (Broken Heroes Mended Souls #2)

MOOSE – LAKE GEORGE, NEW YORK

TWO DAYS LATER…

T he sky was painted in dusky lavender when Moose turned onto the quiet street.

The last time he’d driven into town, his lungs were tight, his chest was heavy, and he wanted to turn around and run.

This time, he couldn’t get to her neighborhood fast enough.

His rental truck crunched over gravel as he pulled into Shay’s driveway, his pulse thudding in his ears louder than the engine.

Shay stood on the top step, arms wrapped around herself, the soft golden light of the porch haloing her in warmth.

Her hair was pulled into a loose braid, strands escaping in every direction, and she wore jeans and a faded hoodie that still somehow managed to steal his breath.

One foot was tucked behind the other, like she wasn’t sure if she should run toward him—or wait and let him come the rest of the way.

He stepped out of the truck slowly, closing the door with a gentle click.

Neither of them said anything at first.

The last time he saw her, he’d talked himself into a long-distance relationship. He hadn’t been sure of where it would go or how long it would last. He only knew that he cared.

Now, standing on her porch, bathed in the last stretches of sunlight and evening, she looked like home.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here,” she said softly.

“You had doubts I’d come?” he asked, voice thick.

“No.” She descended the steps and met him halfway in the gravel, her arms sliding around his waist as he caught her against his chest.

He held her. Harder than he meant to, but she felt so damn good in his arms.

She smelled like clean laundry and lavender, and her body fit against him like they’d never been apart, like time had bent in their favor. He pressed his face to her hair and let the moment anchor him.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

“I thought about you every day,” he replied.

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her hands still fisted in the back of his jacket. “Are you okay?”

“Physically? Yeah. Mentally? Close enough.”

She smiled gently. “That sounds about right.”

He reached up and brushed a windblown strand of hair from her cheek. “You look… good.”

“I look like I’ve been fighting a losing battle with my mother’s garden.”

“You look beautiful.” He kissed her. Hard. With purpose.

She broke it off long before he was ready. “We should go inside. The neighbors are watching,” she said, voice quiet but steady.

“It will give them something to gossip about.” He followed her up the porch steps, the wood creaking beneath their feet.

The warmth from the house hit him the second she opened the door—firelight flickering in the hearth, soft music playing low from a speaker in the corner, the smell of something buttery and sweet in the air. It didn’t smell like grief anymore.

It smelled like life.

He stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him.

And this time, he didn’t feel like a guest.

He felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

Taking her into his arms, he crushed her to his chest.

He brought his lips to hers, ravishing her mouth as if it were the first time he’d ever kissed her.

As if it might be the last. His hands slipped under her hoodie in search of bare skin.

He’d never wanted or needed a woman more than he did Shay.

Lifting her off the floor, he stumbled toward the first-floor bedroom, his lips never leaving hers.

The room was dim, low lamplight spilling warm shadows across pink walls. His fingers found the hem of her hoodie and tugged it upward until it slipped over her head and was carelessly discarded. Her hands clung to him, fingers teasing the muscles under his shirt as she pulled him back to her.

He took a step back. “The bra has to go.” He reached behind her back, unclasping it, letting it slide down her shoulders until it fell to their feet.

He stared at her for a long moment, soaking in every inch.

He palmed her breast, toying with her nipple, enjoying the way her eyelids fluttered and the sweet soft moans his touch created.

Their lips met again, kisses deepening in a rhythmic dance, days of longing pouring out in a singular burst of passion.

They moved backward, his knees hitting the bed before they tumbled onto the soft sheets.

She tasted like honey and wildflowers—a flavor he’d memorized but had missed so ardently in their time apart.

His hands explored familiar curves, fingers adoringly traced the outline of her body, committing each detail to memory like a prayer.

“Let’s get you out of these jeans,” he said, fumbling with the snap like a horny teenager.

She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. “In a rush, are we?”

“Just… need to feel you, Shay,” he said, his husky voice barely above a whisper. “For an entire week all I had was a picture and my dreams.”

With that plea, she gave a nod of approval and lifted her hips so he could slide the jeans off her legs, revealing a lacy undergarment that seemed designed to drive him mad with desire. He swiftly discarded his own shirt, tossing it across the room.

He traced the edge of her lace underwear with his fingers.

“You’re so damn gorgeous.” As his hands ventured further along the silken skin of her thigh, she sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers clawing at the bedding beneath them.

He leaned down, kissing her taut belly, easing her panties lower.

He dabbled more kisses as he tugged the lacy article down her legs and flung them…

somewhere. Licking his lips, he couldn’t wait another second. He had to taste her again.

His fingers traced lazy circles on her hips, keeping her grounded as his mouth found her core. She let out an involuntary whimper, her hands moving from the sheets to sink into his hair. "Moose…" she breathed out.

The way she moaned his name gave him a sense of control and power he hadn't known he craved.

He glanced up at her, locking gazes with hers as his tongue flickered against her sensitive flesh.

Her body arched upward, meeting his mouth halfway as a string of unexpected breathless curses spilled from her lips.

He continued the dedicated exploration with his tongue, slow circles turning into firm swipes until she shuddered under him, climax cresting in waves that left her panting.

Lifting himself up on his elbow, he watched as she came undone before him—cheeks flushed, eyes glazed over in pleasure —and despite just having taken her to the heart of ecstasy, he wanted more.

"Touch me," he growled, helping Shay sit up until she could reach the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers shook slightly as she unzipped his jeans and slid them down along with his boxers, freeing him completely.

Her hot gaze did strange things to Moose—it made him feel powerful yet vulnerable all at once. With deft fingers, she wrapped around him, stroking experimentally while watching his reactions closely.

And then she leaned forward, hand wrapped firmly around his base, while she flicked her tongue over his tip.

He hissed as he fisted a handful of her luscious hair in his hand.

She took more of him in her hot mouth. He watched her pleasure him as if it were the first time he’d ever been on the receiving end of desire.

And maybe that was true, because no one had ever made him feel…

this. He gasped sharply. Struggled for breath.

The need for release so painfully intense, he had to gently tug at her hair and pull her away. “I need you to stop,” he said softly.

With a prideful smirk playing on her lips, she leaned back onto the plush bed, openly inviting him. Grasping her waist, he positioned himself at her entrance, his gaze never leaving hers as he pushed in slowly, every inch of him sinking into the welcoming warmth he craved.

He kept the pace as slow as his body would allow, wanting to make it last. Wanting it to last forever. But passion took over, and he thrust into her hard and fast like a hurricane. She rocked her hips with him, matching his desire.

"Harder," she whispered, nails scratching down his back, leaving a trail of fiery pain that only served to heighten his pleasure.

He obliged, losing himself in the beauty of her body, the sound of her exquisite moans, and the feel of her warm lips against his neck.

He could taste sweat mixed with the lingering flavor of lavender from where she'd scrubbed her skin earlier.

But nothing compared to the intoxicating womanly essence that was purely Shay.

“Moose,” she gasped. “Oh God… yes.”

The ragged breathiness of her voice was an aphrodisiac all by itself. His thrusts became firm and purposeful, pressing deep inside her. Every response he drew out from her was an affirmation of their connection—one that went deeper than just passion.

She held on to him tighter as if he were her lifeline as an almost pained whimper left her lips and she shuddered beneath him. “Oh my God…” Shay murmured as she came around him, her body convulsing in wave after wave of orgasmic bliss.

Watching Shay come undone beneath him sent Moose over the edge. With a low growl, he accelerated his movements before climaxing powerfully inside her, spilling his warmth as a raw roar left his lips.

He collapsed on top of her, noticing for the first time just how much he’d missed… missed her. Missed holding her. Missed her breath. Missed everything about her. And it wasn’t the sex, as good as that was… it was just her.

Their bodies lay entwined for a while as they caught their breath. His head nestled against her breasts while her fingers traced absent patterns on his sweat-coated back.

“Shay?” He tilted his head.

“Yes?”

“I’ve never had anyone but my chickens and my team. They’re the only ones who’ve ever mattered to me,” he said softly. “You matter. Matter more than I could’ve ever expected.”

“I feel the same way.”