He handed her his helmet. “Take this so I can push the bike and I’ll show you.”
One side of the mountain was covered in trees, which hid a secret cavern door. It actually looked as if it was part of the mountain. It was a technology few knew existed, compliments of an Area 51 project years before. Mason pushed a button on the side of one of the trees, making the entrance open.
“Amazing,” Holly said in awe. He looked at her, seeing the scientist at work even in the midst of her fatigue. Her mind didn’t reject things she didn’t understand. Instead, it seemed to absorb and analyze.
He motioned for her to follow. Rolling the bike through the door, he positioned it next to the three other motorcycles he kept near the doorway.
Holly placed the helmets on a rack holding several others. “I see you have quite the collection,” she said noting the other bikes.
He shrugged. “I like to be prepared.”
Holly shivered, hugging herself. “Too bad prepared doesn’t include a hot bath.”
He motioned toward the cavern. “I told you, ask and you shall receive.”
“You better not be joking, because I really am not in the mood for your sudden run on humor.”
He flicked her a curious glance. “Humor?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nothing. Just take me to the bathtub.”
In silence, Mason led her into the cave, not stopping until they were deep into the center. He punched another hidden button, opening a panel in the floor. He nodded toward a ladder connected to the cavern wall. “Follow me down.”
Once Mason was on the next level, he waited on Holly. As soon as she cleared the opening, he punched a button and closed the door. He felt safer knowing they were sealed beneath the surface. When she was close enough for him to reach her, he settled his hands on her waist to guide her to the floor.
“What is this place?” Holly asked, looking around at the small, bare cavern. “It’s small.” She swallowed. “Did I mention I’m claustrophobic?”
Mason grinned. “You are?”
Grimacing, she said, “Apparently, because I don’t like this at all.”
Mason chuckled. Never had a woman made him laugh so much. Again, he marveled at how amazing it was, what she did to him. She lifted his darkness, opening him up to feelings and responses he wouldn’t have had before.
He smiled at her. “It gets better, I promise.”
He turned to a panel of buttons and punched in a series of codes, making the wall slide open, displaying an elevator.
“Good grief,” she muttered, following him onto the elevator. “What kind of maze is this?”
The corners of his lips hinted at a smile. “One very hard to break into.”
She swallowed and nodded, her expression showing understanding. When the elevator doors opened, Mason grabbed her hand. “Come.”
Right now all Mason wanted to do was wrap Holly up in his arms and make love to her. He’d spent the entire drive thinking about her. About them. Holly made him feel whole again. If he knew he wouldn’t turn into some kind of monster, he would relish the bond between them.
Regardless of the long-term, at this moment he needed her. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to walk away from her. Not now, and possibly not ever.
Chapter Thirteen
Holly stepped out of the elevator and could hardly believe her eyes. She now stood in a fully furnished living room, complete with a plush brown sofa and matching chairs, a huge rock fireplace, well-placed pictures, end tables and even several lamps. She stood there, taking in the vision before her in stunned silence.
It was like stepping into some sort of story world.
They couldn’t be in a cave, beneath the earth, and have such a normal setting. Could they?
It was nothing short of amazing. “How can all of this be down here?”
Mason’s hands settled on her shoulders, as he stepped behind her. His hands moved up and down her chilled skin, warming her, comforting her, making her feel an odd calmness as she took in the strange surroundings.
His lips brushed her ear, as tender as anything she had ever felt in her life. He spoke near her ear, his voice a strong force despite its hushed tone.
“It’s a government safe house. In the past, places like this were set up and used for high-level officials during national threats. Now, all Black Knights live like this to protect them from the Arions. The walls are fortified concrete and steel.”
“Amazing,” she murmured. Her eyes moved to a glass door in the corner. Computers, wires and cables were telltale signs that it was a place of importance. “What’s that room?”
“Surveillance area,” he said. “I can see above the surface, including the cabin. Anywhere I have equipment set up.”
“Amazing,” she said again, because it seemed fitting. What other word described all that she had suddenly found herself faced with?
Mason made a sound of agreement. “Actually, a lot of this technology has been used for many years. There have just been improvements made as our know-how increased. Now, unlike in the past, it’s almost impossible to find these caverns from the surface.
“Yes,” Holly said. “The entrance was invisible.”
He continued, moving so he faced her, his hands on her waist. “We have all the luxuries of a normal home. So…” he smiled, “how about that hot bath?”
Holly slid her hands over his. “A bath would be wonderful. Please.”
Mason took one of her hands in his, drawing it to his mouth. He brushed his lips across her knuckles, gentle and tender, like a caress promising tantalizing possibilities.
Things she wanted and needed.
When he raised his mouth, his thumb found her palm, stroking lightly, sending waves of warmth up her arm.
“A bath it is, then,” he said softly, still holding her gaze.
Oh, those eyes of his… Sometimes Holly felt as if she could get lost in those dark pools of temptation. They literally smoldered with an unspoken message. One her body echoed with a resounding “yes”.
“This way.” He stepped forward, holding her hand as he led her forward. Pulling her so she was side by side with him, he said, “Each room is connected tunnel-style. You have to walk through the living room, to the bedroom, to the kitchen.”
Holly wasn’t thinking about her surroundings any longer. She was watching Mason, so drawn to him she couldn’t pull her eyes away. Wet clothes clung to his muscular frame, making a delicious vision too enthralling to ignore.
Just looking at him had her wanting.
Moments later, they stood in the bathroom, his hand still holding hers as he turned to face her. She was under a spell of sorts…his spell.
At least, it felt that way.
She hardly even remembered walking to the bathroom. Her eyes ran the length of his body. She could feel the heat he generated, even with inches between their bodies.
Desire washed over her like a tidal wave.
Their eyes locked and held. His were dark, sensual and, oh, so sexy. He knew what she was feeling. She saw it in those deep, dark eyes. The tension, not wholly sexual but definitively intense, laced the silence with possibilities.
She wanted to touch him with her hands, mouth and body. To feel his hardness against her softness. She loved how big and broad he was. His strength and power, both mental and physical, really did things to her.
This newfound sexual side of her personality was something unexpected and, thanks to Mason, quite fulfilling.
Forcing herself to look around the room, she was surprised to find a large garden tub against the far wall. Mason stepped toward her, his hands sliding to her waist and then running up and down her ribs. His touch sent a shiver racing down her spine and made her fall deeper into the warmth of passion.
Here she was, alone with the most amazing, sinfully sexy man she had ever known and it felt amazing. His hands kept moving, slowly, tantalizingly near the underside of her breasts. Her nipples tingled even as her thighs rushed with
sensation.
He stepped even closer, bringing them thigh to thigh.
Yes, was all she could think as her hand went to the back of one of those strong legs of his, absorbing the feel of rippling muscle beneath the wet denim of his jeans.
She wanted this.
She wanted him.
The day had been nothing shy of severe in its impact on her future. Yet, all she had been faced with, the fear and confusion, the complete upheaval of her roots, didn’t compare to the enormity of her need right now.
For Mason.
“You’re so damn beautiful.” His voice was husky and heavy, as if he too was lost in the moment. The raw need she felt in not just his words, but in his very presence, made her eyes fly to his face.
And she saw, in his eyes, answering emotions to her own; a mirror image of her own desire, her vast need for him, was there for her viewing.
He felt it too, what she felt, this feeling threatening to consume. He didn’t try to hide it. It smoldered in his eyes like a raging fire threatening to consume her in its building flame.
The way he looked at her, as if he could loose his iron control over her, made her feel a surge of extra warmth. Never, ever, had anyone made her feel so female, both in and out of bed, as she did at that moment.
Because of Mason.
Maybe it was his protectiveness or perhaps his gentleness. Or maybe it was just the heat between them. The pure, hot desire that burned every moment they were together. She wasn’t sure. But she liked whatever it was.
Thoughts raced through her mind as she felt the power of their connection, replaying all she knew of him and even of herself. Everything about Mason made her feel what she felt, not just one thing. It wasn’t just physical. There was a bond, a reality beyond the physical.
She liked the way he wanted to take care of her, his strength and pride and pure maleness. It was crazy because she liked her independence. Still, Mason made her wonder how well she really knew herself. Maybe there were things she wanted all along and had ignored.
She touched his jaw, gently running her fingers back and forth. “I still can’t believe what you did back there at the restaurant.”
His reaction surprised her. His hands tensed at her waist as a tortured look flashed across his face. “They would have killed you, Holly. I had to act.” His voice was etched with torment.
Holly realized he had mistaken her comment. She cupped his cheek with her hand. “Of course you did! You were amazing.” She smiled as her voice softened. “My hero.” Her fingers traced the round sensuality of his bottom lip. “You saved my life.”
He swallowed so hard she saw his throat move. As if the feelings were her own, she felt emotion wash over him, painful and alive.
His voice was strained, tense. “Don’t make me into some kind of hero. I’m not.”
Pushing to her tiptoes, she brushed her lips across his. “You’re my hero.”
“Holly,” he said, with a barely contained shakiness in his voice. “You have no idea what I am.”
“Yes, I do,” she insisted, meaning it. “You’re a soldier.” Her hand moved to his chest, over his heart. “You’re also a good man.” She smiled tenderly. “An amazingly sexy, good man, able to drive me to complete distraction when no one else ever has.”
His expression didn’t ease, remaining tense and worried. “You don’t under—”
Holly kissed him, pressing her lips against his and swallowing his words before flicking her tongue between his teeth for the briefest of moments.
With a low growl that sounded almost strangled, Mason slid his arms around her back, molding her to his body. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling as if her body was having a craving satisfied.
And perhaps it was.
She almost felt as if his touch, his nearness, was a need rather than a want. Though, lord only knew, she wanted.
His lips brushed hers, gently, back and forth, tracing them with his own but not actually kissing her. It was more like he was savoring the feel of her mouth against his, lips brushing lips.
It was highly sensual yet incredibly tender.
He whispered against her lips. Close. Intimate.
Tormented.
“Holly—”
She didn’t want him to feel what he was feeling. What he was, he simply was. She accepted his differences from herself and others.
Even embraced them.
Her father had taught her that opening your mind to the new and unusual was what made you better and stronger.
If they came together to embrace their differences, she truly felt those very things could allow them to be so much more as a couple and as individuals. There was something unique between them. It felt like a union of sorts, linking their uniqueness and lending higher strengths in each. She felt it.
The word soul mate came to mind.
If you could truly have one, Mason was hers.
She knew him beyond the days they had been together. It could be an hour, a day or a year since the day she met him. It didn’t matter.
This thing between them, whatever it was, extended beyond time. There was nothing scientific about her feelings for Mason but she had learned to trust her instincts.
She belonged here, with him. Her heart knew it. Apparently, her body did as well. He called to her on so many levels.
She pulled back from their embrace just enough to see his face clearly, pressing her hands against his chest, looking at him with her heart displayed in her eyes. She wanted him to see the truth, to know the reality of her feelings.
“I want you, Mason,” she whispered urgently. “You and no one else. I know you’re a fighter. I’m not going to suddenly decide I can’t deal with who or what you are. I promise.”
He stared at her, his eyes searching her features, probing and still haunted in some way. She had the oddest feeling, as if he reached beyond her mind, to her inner self, seeking.
He made a noise, something primitive and wanting, as his hand wrapped around her neck. He pulled her mouth to his, claiming it with an urgency she completely understood all too well.
She felt it too.
The instant his tongue touched hers, she moaned, feeling a rush of desire well inside. She clung to him, kissing him back with fervent need of her own.
He needed.
She needed.
The combination was potent, raw and almost breathtaking.
His hands slid down her waist to her bottom, cupping it, squeezing, and then pulling her tight against his body. She felt his arousal press against her, making her ache all the more. In her mind, she whispered yes. Knowing he wanted her felt good, right and exciting.
“See what you do to me,” he said as he pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot behind her ear and then nipped at her lobe with his teeth.
“Thank goodness,” she half-whispered. “I wouldn’t want to feel like this by myself.”
Mason laughed, soft and sexy, before pressing his lips to her neck. She loved feeling some of his tension slip away. Hearing him laugh felt good.
His words were serious though, his laughter gone quickly. “You make me feel all kinds of things I didn’t think I still had in me.”
Holly looked at him then, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “I do?” she asked, wanting to know he felt as overwhelmed by her as she did by him. She thought he did but hearing it, well, hearing it just felt better.
“Mmm,” he said, scraping his teeth on her bottom lip. “And hotter than I have ever been for a woman.”
Holly smiled at that. She wanted him hot. Her hands slipped under his shirt, palms pressing against the roped muscles of his abdomen. She loved the hardness of his body, so male.
“You make me bold and needy in ways I never felt before. Like now,” she added. “I really want you to take this wet shirt off. I want to see you.”
He didn’t argue, tugging his shirt over his head with one hand and flinging it to the floor. Holly ran her hands down his shoulders
, letting her eyes soak in his perfection.
“I love your body,” she said as her eyes met his.
His returned gaze was frankly sexual. A slow, rather wicked smile slipped onto his lips. Whatever he planned to say or do, and judging from the look in his eyes he had something in mind, she didn’t give him time.
She kissed his chest, small kisses, feathering them all over his warm flesh. Her tongue dipped here and there. Her teeth scraped. Her senses simmered with each and every moment. He smelled like spicy male in a way that made her nipples tingle and her body heat. She had never experienced anything like it. His smell absolutely turned her on.
And his taste.
There was a hint of saltiness but the flavor was pure addiction. The way everything about him could impact her on such an extreme level was like nothing Holly had ever experienced before.
Mason stood there, seemingly calm, but she knew better. His heartbeat pounded furiously in his throat, drawing her eyes and giving away the nature of his reaction to what was happening between them.
Which was what? She didn’t know but she wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted what they were together.
He was a man of control and now, with her taking the lead, she sensed he was struggling to remain composed. On some deep level, she knew he battled with a desire to take control rather than give it to her.
And she took his willingness to fight his own internal battle for her as something special.
His breathing was another sign he wasn’t unaffected. It caught in his throat as she scraped his nipple with her teeth. She smiled against his skin, flicking her tongue against the now hard nipple.
She liked being in control.
She wanted more.
She kissed downward, slowing lowering herself to her knees. His fingers touched her hair as she ran her hands down his jean-clad legs. Looking up at him she said, “We should really get you out of these wet clothes.”
Her fingers went to the buttons on his jeans and made quick work of freeing them. Gaze dropping she found the trail of sexy, dark hair from his waistband to his navel. And then her tongue followed.