“Oh, I bet that happens a lot.” He says it with such surprise and awe that I’m convinced he’s never considered it before. It wouldn’t be the first time a date didn’t realize that dance is a very physical activity.
Not a date.
“Is there anything I can do for you? Maybe give you a massage?”
My jaw drops so far it probably looks like a cartoon where it’s completely detached from my face. “A massage?” I’ve had plenty over the years. The good, relaxing kind and the bad, work the worst knots out kind. All from licensed masseurs or physical therapists who worked for the company. Never from a romantic partner and never from a friend. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I’m offering. I’m pretty good with my hands.” He holds his palms out to me, and my whole body goes hot. I’ve never really looked at his hands before, never had a good reason to. But with him holding them up infront of me, it’s hard to miss how big they are. I can’t help but wonder what else they excel at.
Nope, cannot go there. The minute I let my mind wander in that direction, the whole thing is over.
“I took a couple of massage therapy classes back in college as electives. Even remember some of it.” He winks at me, and heat pools in my abdomen.
“Um… I guess that would be okay.” I swallow hard, trying not to let any of my emotions show through on my face. “Only if you don’t mind.”
AIDAN
I’ve gone insane. That’s the only excuse I can come up with. I sent Covey off to find me some oil or lotion that I can use, which is also a welcome chance for me to think through the situation I’ve gotten myself into. Silas is never going to let me live this down.
I look around his sparse living room. There’s not much here for me to use for him to rest on. The bedroom would work better—but absolutely not. Massages in beds are not a friendly thing. My mind already has too many wild fantasies playing out to add that to the mix. The couch will work fine.
Now to pull my thoughts together. That part might be a little more complicated. “Can you grab a couple of towels, too?” I call to him.At least my brain is coming back online.
It’s not my brain I’m worried about. It’s my cock that I’m trying to get under control at the moment. These slacks don’t have a lot of room in them, but at least the dark color will help hide my reaction.
Covey comes back carrying a stack of big towels and a giant bottle of lotion. Seriously—I swear that thing is the size of a two-liter bottle of soda. My eyes must give away my questioning.
“It’s easier to buy it in bulk.” He shrugs and holds out the bottle for me. “I have to keep my skin nice for dance.” That sounds made up, but I don’t know enough to argue with him.
“Okay, put those on the couch.” I motion to the towels in his hand. “And lie down on your stomach.” Covey complies with my directions perfectly—which, after a day with five-year-olds, is refreshing—but maybe a little too perfectly. He’s still wearing all his clothes. And sure, I could give him a mediocre version on top of all that fabric. It wouldn’t be as good, but it would be less intimate.
I shake my head, hoping some of whatever haze is currently blocking me will disappear. It’s not weird. It’s two guys hanging out. One of them having their shirt off doesn’t make it strange. Or sexy. It’s just part of it. When I took classes, I massaged multiple classmates, shirtless, with no issue.
Plus, Covey must be shirtless around people all the time. I think. I probably need to learn a bit more about ballet. I clear my throat before I speak, hoping my uncertainty doesn’t come through in my voice. “It’ll be easier if you take your shirt off.” Covey turns his head toward me. “If you want.” He continues looking at me, not moving. “Or not. Either way. Or whatever.”
Oh. My. God.Is there any way to force myself to shut up? Maybe a sock I could shove in my mouth?
“No problem, I should’ve thought of that.” I practically groan, but at least some amount of filter has returned. Usually, my ability to shut off my mouth and expressions is extraordinary. It’s an essential skill when working with children. They say all sorts of things that should never be repeated.
He strips off his sweatshirt and t-shirt in one quick move, and… I’ve never met anyone with abs like that in real life. I swear, I could play the xylophone on them. That body is wasted on ballet. He should be on the cover ofMen’s Healthor something. My cock immediately takes interest, because of course it does.
Thankfully, he lies back down quickly, letting me pick my jaw up off the ground and adjust myself in peace. A gorgeous man flashed his superhero abs at me. A physical reaction is normal. It means nothing other than it’s been way too long since I got laid.
Shit. How long have I been standing here? Covey will eventually wonder where his massage is. I manage to find a bit of space between his legs and grab the lotion. “This might be a bit cold, but it’ll warm up as we go along.”
“I can handle it.” His voice is muffled, but I get the message and dig in, working some lotion into his skin and making slow circles to help get his blood flowing. If I thought his abs were a thing of beauty, his back muscles deserve to be carved in stone. No one would ever know from all the baggy clothes he wears around.
All the massage techniques come back to me slowly, primarily as muscle memory, as I move my hands over his tight muscles, noting particularly tense areas. My thumb digs into a spot near his shoulder blade, and Covey moans. “Okay?”
“So good.”
I swallow hard. It’s impossible not to imagine another situation where I might be between his thighs, teasing moans out of him. And that’s precisely the kind of thought I’m trying to keep out of my head.
I shift a bit, making sure that there’s no chance my erection is going to bump into him. I have no desire to explain that one. It’s not easy trying to find a good position for a massage that also keeps me a good foot away from him in places.
Covey continues to fill the apartment with pornographic noises, gasping and moaning as I work some knots out of his shoulder. I should get a medal for managing to stay in control through the whole thing, asking questions about whether the pressure is okay and if a specific area feels tight, rather than leaning down and kissing his flesh.
Or rubbing off against his ass.
