And she had the sense and awareness, as he pointed out once before, of a victim. Jesus, anything could have happened to her out here, especially when her dog had been withhim. He could drag her off the chair and be balls deep before she knew what happened to her.
The thought had him glaring around the property as though to warn off anyone who would dare to touch her. He’d fuckingend them. It reminded him of the asshole who’d had the nerve to accost her at The Northern. Once again, he had to tamp down the urge to track the fucker down and ensure that man never eventhoughtof Cassidy Teague again.
Mac ran his hands through his hair and sat in the second chair, relaxing back to look at her. He liked looking at her. He liked watching her. It made him feel at peace. It was a weird thing when looking at a woman who was going through her own paces could bring him a sense of peace, but he wasn’t going to examine it too much. He was just going to look at her and feel his peace.
Looking at her also made him want to wake her and slip inside her; to have her admit her need, her want, to watch her eyes as he took her. Natural enough, especially now, when he knew how it felt to be inside her. Like heaven, like a dream. Like home; warm, secure, welcome.
He’d fucked other women since, but damn him if he could even remember who they were or their names, and it hadn’t been the same. The satisfaction hadn’t been as… satisfying. Like having a craving for something and thinking you’ve satisfied it, but your body telling you that you didn’t quite get it—there wasmoreout there it needed and wanted; something it’d had and wanted again.
And wasn’t that thought scary as shit?
Been a long time since he needed and wanted only one person.
Didn’t ever want that again, that need for one person.
He’d already crossed a line with her by kissing her. Couldn’t help it. Her lips begged for it. And she’d needed it; needed the connection for her release, to let go. He’d wanted it, she needed it. Win-win, only now it put them in a more familiar space than they should be.
His eyes traversing her face, so smooth and youthful, he recalled how she’d touched him—his scarred, traumatized skin. It didn’t bother her he was a good ten years older than her; it didn’t bother her his back resembled a horror show. She called it a part of him, said it wasn’t ugly, whatever the fuck that meant in her world. Meant she didn’t see him as ugly, at least.
And she’d sent her dog to him, after how he’d treated her. Apologies aside, little acts of rebellion like Angel notwithstanding, she could have had real revenge by ignoring what he knew she’d heard.
She could have kept Fred with her.
But she hadn’t.
And he was fucking grateful for that; fucking thankful for her.
For that act alone, he knew he should repay her by leaving her the hell alone. He knew he was the worst thing for her; he would derail her in her ascent from hell.
He shouldn’t care.
Not that he cared, right?
He should only care about what it’d felt like to be between her legs.
How she handled it was on her. Not him.
Regardless, he couldn’t leave her sleeping in the chair. She had to be freezing; uncomfortable, and she at least deserved comfort.
Standing up, he leaned over and eased his arms around her, pulling her toward him.
She startled, sleep-drugged eyes trying desperately to make sense of what was happening as she focused on him, her body stiffening. Before she was even able to react, he had her hoisted into his arms. “Wha—? Mac?” Recognizing it was him, she relaxed.
An overwhelming sense of satisfaction flooded him at her instant trust. Her arms aided in his effort, looping around his neck, her serious eyes looking up at him as she struggled to bring her foggy mind awake.
“Taking you to bed, sweetheart.”
Bewilderment and acquiescence collided in those sleepy orbs before she answered breathlessly, “Okay.” The hand at his neck curled.
Even though he looked away from her to navigate his way, he could feel her eyes on him. He couldn’t hold back the smirk at her response; it wasn’t like she had a choice, considering she was already in his arms and he was moving.
But let her feel like she was permitting him to put her to bed. Cost him nothing.
He didn’t even consider taking her to her sofa. She’d slept on it long enough. Time for her to put on her big girl panties—only an expression—and sleep in her own bed. She turned her head to look down the hallway, realizing his intended destination. Her cheeks blazed, and she ducked her head.
Fucking hell. His cock was ramming his zipper, eager to get to her. He loved it when he made her blush; it drove him crazy. Mixed blessing right now.
Entering the room, he paused to look around.