10. Mason
Mason
The generator hums steadily outside now, a low reliable rumble that vibrates through the cabin floorboards and sends warm air pouring from the vents once again.
The temperature inside has already climbed enough that the icy bite from earlier has faded.
I stand near the stove, rolling my shoulders to ease the stiffness from the cold and the injury on my arm.
The bandage Riley wrapped feels tight but clean, a constant reminder of her small hands on my skin and how badly I wanted more than just her care.
Riley moves around the cabin in my oversized clothes, her bare feet padding softly across the wooden floor that has finally lost its chill.
The sight of her like this, sleepy and soft and wrapped in my things, does dangerous things to my control.
Her dark hair falls in messy waves around her face.
My cock’s been half hard since I woke up with her curled against me, and now it throbs insistently behind my zipper, heavy and aching.
I keep telling myself this isn’t right. But my body doesn’t give a damn about protocol.
I watch her fold a blanket on the couch, the way the oversized shirt slips off one shoulder again and reveals the smooth curve there.
The urge to cross the room, pull her into my arms, and taste that skin is almost overwhelming.
I grip the mug of coffee in my hand tighter, the ceramic warm against my palm, and force my eyes away.
My satellite phone rings sharply on the table, cutting through the quiet. I pick it up immediately, recognizing Jax’s number.
“What’s up?” I answer, voice low.
“Storm’s starting to break sooner than expected,” Jax says without greeting.
His tone is clipped and professional. “Satellite shows clearing in the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours. Moretti family’s been moving a lot of people around Idaho and up into the mountains.
They’re looking hard. We don’t think they have her exact location yet, but we can never be too sure.
Stay alert. Eyes open for anything out of the ordinary.
Once the roads are clear we’ll extract her to a safe house for full WITSEC transition. ”
I glance over at Riley. She’s watching me, those blue eyes full of questions. The warmth in the cabin suddenly feels heavier. “Understood. We’re secure for now. I’ll keep her close.”
Jax pauses. “You good, man? She holding up?”
“She’s stronger than she looks,” I reply, my gaze still locked on her. “We’ll be ready.”
I cut the call and let the phone fall silent in my hand before setting it down.
The silence stretches for a moment, broken only by the hum of the generator and the distant howl of the wind that’s finally starting to lose some of its fury.
Riley steps closer, twisting her hands together in front of her.
“What did they say?” she asks, voice small but steady.
I don’t sugarcoat it. She deserves the truth. “Storm’s expected to lift in the next day or so. Moretti family is active. Searching hard. They don’t have your location yet, but we need to stay alert. Once the roads clear they’ll move you to a safe house for full witness protection.”
Her face pales. The color drains from her cheeks so fast I can see it even in the gray morning light filtering through the boards. Her breathing changes immediately, becoming shallow and quick. She takes a step back, hands pressing against her stomach like she might be sick.
“No,” she whispers, voice cracking. “They’re going to find me and hurt my dad and then they’ll kill me like that man in the alley.
I saw his eyes, Mason. I saw him die. I can’t do this.
I can’t—” Her words tumble faster, panic rising sharp and ugly.
Her chest heaves, eyes wide and glassy with fear.
She starts pacing, small bare feet moving rapidly across the floor, breaths coming in short gasps that make her whole body shake.
I move without thinking, crossing the space in two strides and pulling her against my chest. She’s trembling hard, small hands fisting in my flannel shirt. Her heart pounds so fast against me.
“Breathe with me, Riley,” I say firmly, voice low and steady. One hand presses against her upper back, the other cradles the back of her head. “In slow. Hold it. Out slower. Come on. Follow me.”
I inhale deeply, holding it for a count of four, then release it slowly.
She tries to match me but her breaths hitch and catch.
I keep my voice calm, grounding her. “Again. In. Good. Hold. Out. That’s it.
You’re okay. I’ve got you. No one’s getting through that door or past me.
Feel my heartbeat. Match it. Slow and steady. ”
Her body presses tighter against mine, soft curves molding to my harder frame.
I can feel every tremble, every shaky inhale.
The warmth of the cabin wraps around us but her fear is cold and real.
I stroke her back in slow circles, my hand large enough to cover most of her spine.
Her hair smells like my soap and her own sweetness.
My cock’s still hard from earlier, pressed against her stomach through our clothes, but I ignore it.
Right now she needs to know she’s in good hands, not the raw hunger I feel every time she’s near me.
Slowly, painfully slowly, her breathing begins to even out.
The trembling eases. She stays plastered against my chest, face buried in my shirt, inhaling my scent like it grounds her.
I keep holding her, one arm locked around her waist, the other cradling her head.
The generator hums steadily. The vents blow warm air that ruffles her hair.
Outside the storm continues but weaker now, as if even nature is starting to relent.
“You’re doing so good,” I murmur against the top of her head. “So strong. I’ve never seen anyone handle this much fear with as much grace as you. Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”
She nods against my chest, her small hands still fisted in my shirt.
Minutes pass like this, her body slowly relaxing into mine.
The panic attack drains out of her, leaving her limp and trusting in my arms. My heart pounds harder than it should.
I’ve faced down enemy fire and never felt this level of protective need.
When she finally pulls back enough to look up at me, her eyes are red but clearer. Her lips are parted, cheeks flushed from crying and the warmth of the cabin. She looks so damn beautiful it knocks the air clear out of my lungs.
I can’t hold back anymore.
I cup her face with both hands, thumbs brushing away the last traces of tears on her soft cheeks. Her skin feels like silk under my rough palms. Then I lean down and kiss her.
The moment our lips meet everything else disappears.
She tastes like salt from her tears. Her mouth is soft and warm and opens for me immediately, a small surprised sound vibrating against my lips.
I groan low in my throat, deepening the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers with a hunger I’ve been fighting for days.
She melts into me, hands sliding up my chest to grip my shoulders, pressing her body flush against mine.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It’s days of tension and fear and raw need exploding between us.
I tilt her head back, taking more, claiming her mouth like I’ve wanted to since the moment I first saw her on that porch at Haven 7.
She whimpers softly, the sound going straight to my already aching cock.
My hands slide down her back to grip her waist, pulling her tighter so she can feel exactly how hard I am for her.
The thick length presses against her stomach, throbbing with every heartbeat.
Riley kisses me back with surprising heat, her tongue tentative at first then growing bolder.
The chemistry between us ignites like gasoline on the fire.
Every brush of her lips, every small sound she makes, every press of her soft body against my harder one builds the fire higher.
Her nipples tighten against my chest through the thin shirt.
Her hands slide into my hair, tugging gently, and I growl into her mouth, the sound raw and possessive.
We break apart only when we both need air, foreheads pressed together, breathing hard. Her lips are swollen and pink, eyes dark with the same need burning through me. The cabin feels ten degrees hotter. The generator hums steadily. Warm air blows across our skin.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you,” I admit, voice rusty and thick. My hands stay on her waist, thumbs stroking the soft skin under the hem of her shirt. “You’re under my skin, Riley. Have been from the start.”
She looks up at me, lips parted, breathing fast. The trust and desire in her eyes nearly undo me completely. The storm may be easing outside, but the one building between us is only getting stronger.