Marley was the most welcoming when I first came here.
I step out into the hall and briefly look around to see if anyone followed me, “Of course not, what can I do for you?”
She smiles like I just made her day, she almost looks excited, “I wondered if you could help me bring the Christmas decorations from the attic when you have some spare time, I want to have a family dinner and tree decorating party this weekend.”
My parents never had decorating parties, I would comehome from school and the house would look like Christmas vomited on it. It’s been so long since I’ve been part of a family Christmas that I almost get choked up.
“I would love to help, just let me know when and what you would like to have for dinner, and I’ll put in the grocery order.”
Her warm hand grasps my arm and her eyes twinkle to go with her smile, “Thank you, Sloane, you’re the best.” She pulls me into a hug, her soft floral scent wraps around me and I happily hug her back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SLOANE
TURNING OVERto face the dark window again, I huff out a breath and my eyes open for the hundredth time. I’ve rolled over so many times trying to get comfortable enough to slip into sleep that my sheets are twisted around me.
All I can think about is Mason’s hand on my jaw, his thumb sliding under my eye, so gentle, so sweet. My body is buzzing with need for him and I refuse to touch myself, it only makes me want him more. Every time I do, I’m left wanting to feel him. It’s becoming a deep-seated ache that nothing satisfies.
Throwing my covers back, I slip on my thin, cotton robe to cover my boy shorts and tank top so I can go down to the kitchen for a cup of cocoa.
Tendrils of steam over the milk in the saucepan let me know it’s the perfect temperature and I fill my mug up a littleover halfway and add some sweet cream and chocolate syrup. My mom’s secret is a pat of butter. I top it off with little marshmallows and lean against the island to sip my mom’s chocolate milk recipe as I look out the large picture window over the breakfast nook.
I’m so confused. Just last week, a look or possible touch from a man made me want to scrub myself with rubbing alcohol and a steel wool pad, but now my body is practically on fire just knowing Mason’s in the house with me.
The giant grandfather clock strikes the hour and only bongs once. The house is so quiet at this time of night while everyone is sleeping, it’s almost my favorite time next to getting up before everyone to start breakfast, that’s when I make my coffee and enjoy the quiet.
I know that I’m just the maid, but the feeling of taking care of everyone in the house makes me feel good. I enjoy knowing that their bellies are full, their clothes are clean, and their house is perfect because of me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much for a job before.
“You’re up late?” Mason’s soft, deep voice breaks through the quiet and licks around me like flames, he’s leaning against the door frame in just sweats with his arms crossed over his perfect chest, and I nearly jump out of my skin and spill my hot cocoa on my front.
“Shit!” I hiss and set my cup down while opening my robe to get the hot, wet material off my chest. “Fuck, Mason, do I need to put a bell around your damn neck?” I whisper-yell while half bending over to keep cocoa from dripping under my shirt.
He pushes off the door frame and grabs the dish towel to run cold water over it while I drop my wet, sticky robe on the floor to soak up what spilled so we won’t slip. His eyebrows are scrunched together, but I can see the amusement twinkling in his eyes when he steps in front of me and gentlyslides the wet towel across my chest and collarbones.
His eyes flick up to mine, “I didn’t mean to scare you, but in my defense, you are the jumpiest person I’ve ever met.”
I grab the towel from his hand and look down as I start to wipe away what is dripping under my tank top. “You sneak up on people more than anyone I’ve ever met, how do you even do that?” I whisper, trying to keep my voice low but firm and my head down to avoid eye contact.
Sliding his hands in the pockets of his sweats, he doesn’t step away, but the action does pull the waistband down a smidge and the perfect V between his hip bones is teasing me as it disappears behind the material.
Maybe eye contact is better.
My lower belly starts to purr and everything in me wants to brush against him to beg him to pet me. I realize that I have stopped wiping the sticky liquid from my chest as I stare at his perfect rock-hard abs and I look up at him through my lashes.
His eyes are locked on mine and his voice is gruff, “It’s part of my job, darlin’.”
I lift my head and the hand with the towel drops to my side, my heart flutters in my chest as I look back at him. He’s so close that I would only have to take one step to press my chest against him and my breath quickens.
He pulls a hand from his pocket and trails a path of heat with his finger across my collarbone from one side to the other, his eyes watching the lazy movement, when I audibly swallow his lips tip up slightly and his eyes move back up to mine.
“Tell me you don’t feel that.” He practically growls.
My nipples were already puckered against the thin material of my tank, but hearing the deep, carnal growl from his chest makes them hard enough to cut glass. I press my thighs together to try and control the intense need in my hipsto lean forward and rub against him.
He sees the slight movement and looks down at the tight boy shorts that I wear to sleep in and his eyes move slowly up my body, stopping for a moment on my nipples that are about to cut through the fabric of my tank before slowly moving to my lips and eyes.
My lips part slightly and I softly pant when his hand slides up to my neck and cups my jaw. He takes that step to close the small space between us and I swallow the moan that tries to slip out when his chest rubs against my sensitive nipples.
