Melt For Us(Holiday Masked Men #2)(4)

Micah moves behind the couch, massaging my shoulders and easing my tense muscles.

Placing my hand over his, I tilt my head back, meeting his gaze. He leans down, his lips mere inches from mine. He looks over every inch of my face, studying me. It’s as if he’s memorizing my every feature. He’s never been so unreadable, so deep in thought.

“What?” I ask, barely any sound to my voice. “What is it?”

“Just admiring you.” Micah changes his demeanor, stepping back before turning to Damien. “Ready?”

Damien nods once, standing.

And they disappear down the hallway.

“What was that about?” I wonder, looking to Jensen for answers.

He casually shrugs, pushing himself up from the couch and holding out his hand. “I have something to show you,” he says, as I place my hand in his. “My favorite part of the cabin.”





CHAPTER 3





Jensen leads me through a doorway toward the side of the house where we descend a small set of stairs, leading to what appears to be a sunroom. My eyes widen in disbelief as I take in the elegant sight. There are glimmering, white Christmas lights draped through the beams of the ceiling, lighting up the entire space above us, resembling a starry night.

From the warm ambiance of my surroundings, I’m left completely in awe.

“Are you serious,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

Jensen’s hand rests on the small of my back. “Micah went all out decorating this place for you.”

“I can’t believe this!”

He laughs at my enthusiasm.

Two steps lead up to a wooden deck, supporting a large hot tub. A blue light illuminates the water. Steam rises as I ascend the steps, and humidity fills the space around us. It’s a winter wonderland outside, snowflakes falling steadily from the night sky.

“This cabin is amazing.”

He brings me against his chest. “I’m glad you like it,” he breathes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“Damien said it’s ours, but who does it really belong to?”

Clenching his jaw, he remains silent for a moment. “It belonged to his parents,” he says.

“Past tense,” I say, inhaling an anxious breath.

He nods.

“He’s never told me about them.”

“I don’t blame him.”

Frowning, I avert my gaze to the water. “What happened to them?” I question, trying my best to sound casual.

“Quinn—”

“Sorry,” I blurt out. “You’re right. I shouldn’t pry.”

“Don’t ask him,” he warns.

Locking my eyes with his, a sudden feeling of concern washes over me. “Don’t?”

“Don’t,” he sternly repeats. “I’m sure he will tell you eventually. When he’s ready.”

“You’ve never told me anything about your parents, either.”

His lips part, and he weakly grins. “I don’t have parents.”

My heart immediately sinks. “Jensen,” I apologetically rush out. “I’m so sorry—”

He brings me into him once more, and my body dissolves against his. “It’s fine,” he reassures me. “I don’t mind. You have the right to ask questions.”

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I breathe in his heady cologne. “It’s just that, you know everything about my family,” I begin. “And I know nothing about yours.”

“I don’t have a family, Quinn,” he lets out, and tears fill my eyes. The moment he notices, his hold on me tightens. “It’s fine. Really. I’m just not sure it would be the best conversation for Christmas Eve. It’s pretty depressing.”

“I don’t want to make you talk about it.”

“You’re not forcing me,” he objects, cupping my face with his hand. “I’ve never been asked about them. Never had anyone to tell.”

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“You’re so selfless,” he seductively breathes. “So kind. Caring. And so, so beautiful. You know that?”

His strong hands grip my waist as my hands find their way to his chest. His rippled muscles tense beneath my touch, and his breathing becomes shallow. Grazing my fingertips over his broad shoulders, I pull him closer, lifting my chin to gaze into his piercing eyes.

Grabbing the back of my neck, he leans closer. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, tightening his hold on me as I melt into his arms. “So goddamn perfect.”

Jensen grabs a fistful of my hair, tilting my head. This grants him more access to kiss down my neck, his warm lips lingering over my collarbone. A quiet moan escapes me and my nipples strain against my lacey bra. Clenching my legs together, I attempt to ease the ache settling between my thighs. Although, I’m desperate for his touch.

For release.

He peels off my sweater, then my shirt, before dropping to his knees before me. His fingers swiftly unfasten the button and zipper of my jeans, working them down the curve of my hips, my thighs. Once they pool at my ankles, he stares up at me with a raging desire.

Gripping his shoulder to keep myself balanced, I step out of them, watching his gaze as it travels over every inch of my body. He groans as he caresses my legs, kissing the sensitive skin of my hip, grazing my red laced panties down my thighs. The feeling of his warm breath sends a shiver through me, while I run my hand through his disheveled hair.