“Aye,” he says. “I read those comments. I know people who’ve gone off the deep end for far less. It can’t be easy to handle.”
“It’s fine,” I say quietly.
“It’s not. It must be exhausting to have to act all nice and grateful and happy all the time, especially when everyone around you is treating you like crap. You never get a break, do you?”
I blink. For some reason, my eyes are getting hot. I feel exposed, like he’s peeled me open and seen right inside me.
He sets aside the plate. “Aw, honey. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“I’m not upset,” I say honestly. A different feeling is pulsing through me.
He tilts his head. “No?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” He leans in, brushing his massive thumb under my bottom lip. “You got a few crumbs,” he murmurs.
Something in me snaps.
I don’t want to talk anymore. When he goes to pull away, I slide closer. He moves immediately, his big thighs parting so he can pull me between them.
“All right?” he asks, his breath warm on my face.
I swallow. “I think you’d better kiss me before your radio goes off again.”
It’s bold, but he just laughs. “I reckon you’re probably right,” he says, cupping my cheek. “C’mere, baby.” Then finally—finally—his lips press over mine.
Kissing Fraser feels warm. It’s like going on a hot holiday after a long winter and finally feeling sunshine spill onto your skin. I sink into him. He groans, and his hands come to wrap around my waist. Tension curls in my belly, and dampness blooms in my underwear.
Jesus. It’s been way too long if I’m getting wet off akiss. But then again, who can blame me? Fraser is so big, all muscleand strong bones.I want to climb him. I press closer, and he shudders.
“Sweetheart.” He drags me onto his massive jean-clad thigh, and my brain stops producing thoughts.
“Wow,” I say roughly. “I. Um. Your legs.” I pull back to look at them. They’re as big as tree trunks. “Wow.”
He sucks at my bottom lip. “You like ’em?”
I want to die on them. “Bigfan.”
“Not a patch on yours.” He strokes a hand over my calf reverently. “Christ. You are so, sopretty,” he says. “Everything about you.” He buries his face in the curve of my neck. “And you smell like a goddamn bakery.” I gasp, shuddering as he sucks on my throat and rocking closer into him?—
His radio bleeps. He swears extensively. I make a crying noise, twisting a hand in his shirt. This cannotbe happening again.
“Maybe if we just ignore it—” he starts, but it fizzes with static.
“Fraser.” Alec’s voice sounds strained.
Fraser rubs his face and then answers the call. “Aye, boss?”
“Can you check on Viola’s girl?” Alec asks. “I just checked the video feed, and I can’t see her.”
Fraser tugs on his hair. “Aye. Will do. Over.” He reclips the radio. “Sorry, honey. Guess I got to see a man about a lamb.”
I try to catch my breath. “He means Crumpet, right? Is she okay?”
“Probably just hiding. Don’t worry about her. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Fraser kisses me one last time on the mouth, tucks back my hair, and heads out of the cabin, shutting the door softly behind him.
I sag against the mattress, heat burning under my skin.
