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“I’ll be right back.” I run upstairs to the hall closet and pull out my travel massage table, two sets of sheets, and some pillows, lugging it all back down the stairs.
It’s a little weird having Lance sit in my living room while I set up the table and cover it with sheets and pillows.
“Sorry I was early.”
“It’s fine. This won’t take long.” I tuck the sheets in and fold them back enough to make it easy for him to get under. “I’ll be right back again, and then we can get started.”
I make a stop in my upstairs bathroom to grab a lavender candle and my portable speaker. The music they pipe into the rooms at the clinic isn’t my favorite. I can do better here. I bring everything back down and set it up on the coffee table in front of Lance.
He takes up half the couch with his broad shoulders and wide stance. He’s wearing a collared button down and a pair of jeans. He smells amazing, even from across the room. I wish I could stop noticing these things about him.
“Would you prefer music or no music?” I ask as I set up the speaker.
“I’m good with music, as long as I don’t have to dance.”
I pause to check if he’s kidding, but he looks serious. “No dancing.”
He smiles a little. “Then we’re good.”
I look around the room to make sure all the blinds are closed. “Okay. If you’d like to undress in the bathroom, I can bring you a robe or a towel.”
“I’m cool to do that here.” He starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“I’ll just give you some privacy.” I pass the table and run my hand over the sheets, smoothing out a wrinkle. “Once you’re undressed lie facedown under the top sheet.”
Lance pauses in his unbuttoning. I can see the definition in his pecs, and I try to keep my eyes above his neck. “I didn’t do that last time.”
“It’s fine. I wasn’t clear. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” I rush out of the living room and cross over to the kitchen. I turn on the water and wait until it’s hot before I put my hands under it. It also helps drown out the sound of Lance unbuckling his belt.
I imagine what it would be like to undress him. To unveil that incredibly strong, athletic body inch by toned, sculpted inch.
“Stop it,” I mutter and shake my head. When my hands are warm enough, I turn off the tap and call out, “All set?”
“Good to go,” Lance says.
I return to the living room and find him lying on the table, his feet hanging off the end because he’s so tall. The sheet is pulled up high enough to cover his butt, the dimples above it dragging my eyes down.
Why the hell does he have to be so damn hot? This would be so much easier if he could just be unattractive and a total asshole, but so far he’s been sweet, apologetic, and funny. I don’t know what to think.
He lifts his head when the floor creaks under my foot. “Did I get it right this time?”
“You did great.”
I turn on the lamp on the side table and turn off the overhead light, choose some music, and pull the sheet up to cover his back and the massive tattoo. The setup isn’t the best because my oil is on the coffee table, which is out of arms reach.
I skim across his back, over the sheet, from one shoulder to the other, as I walk around to the coffee table. “I’m going to start now,” I say quietly.
“Sounds good.”
I begin the way I always do, gauging the tension in his muscles as I press my palms along either side of his spine. He tenses a little when I reach his lower back. “It’s tight here?” I add a little pressure.
“Yeah. It’s sore.”
“Anywhere else?”
“I’m sore in general.”
“Okay.” I peel away the sheet, revealing his back. After pouring oil in my palm, I rub my hands together and smooth them across his shoulders.
A deep sound rumbles through Lance.
I lift my palms right away. “I’m sorry. Do you need me to stop?”
“No. Don’t.” He lifts his head and grabs my wrist, awkwardly trying to put my hand back where it was.
“Okay. I remember you said you don’t like being touched last time, so I wanted to make sure.”
He settles his face back in the cradle. “It’s okay when you touch me.”
I go back to rubbing slow circles on his back, warming up his muscles. His shoulders are tight, especially the right one. Every once in a while I get a low groan out of him that almost sounds like a purr and a growl intertwined. But when I reach his lower back, the contented groans turn into the kind I associate with discomfort.
