Fred follows me over to the back wall like a good little helper, and I pull out my tape measure, staring at it for a solid thirty seconds while my brain reboots.
"Okay, well. Do you mind if I keep going? I'm almost done."
I clear my throat. "No. Go ahead."Because watching you thrust up and down into positions I'd like to fuck you in isn't going to be a distraction at all.
I busy myself taking measurements, pulling out the tape and letting it slide back into the slot as I move around the room. I'm a plumber by trade, but I learned a lot of other skills while working with my friend Cole's Uncle Bill back in our hometown. He was a crotchety old man, but he knew his stuff. Old Bill was the only guy in town who was willing to hire twelve-year-olds. Said labor laws were the government's way of controlling the masses, and it was his duty to fight back.
Cole, Emmett, Hayes, Max, and I have been friends since grade school, but we became like brothers on the job sites. When Cole got married a few years back, we visited Duhring Park for the first time. Old Bill had decided to retire, but he refused to sell me his business, so I convinced the guys to call Duhring Park home and started DP Construction. Once we started getting more work, I hired Archer to take over most of the plumbing, and I shifted into the foreman role.
Soft music mixes with the scrape of Naomi moving on her mat. I don't dare look at her, but since I'm done, I no longer have a choice.
"I need to get out of here," I whisper to Fred, giving him another rub behind the ears. I swear the furball winks at me.
When I turn to face Naomi, her hips are flattened to the floor, and she's arching her back, her full breasts on display like an offering.
I let out a hiss of air. "Fuckme."
Naomi's eyes fly open, and she catches me staring at her. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. Fine," I huff, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.
"Did you get hurt?" Naomi asks, standing and walking toward me.
Oh no. No, no, no, no.
"I'm fine," I practically bark.
Naomi raises an eyebrow at me, but she doesn't stop moving.
"I just, a cramp. In my arm. I got a cramp."
It's not a total lie. My body is killing me. We've been trying to get everything finished, and I’ve put in far longer hours than my body is used to.
"I can help with that." Naomi cracks her knuckles.
The back of my neck heats as I glance at her, then look away. "No, that's not necess—"
"Don't be ridiculous," Naomi cuts me off.
She pushes me toward the chair at the little dining table. The second her skin touches mine, words fly right out of my head, and I sit like a good boy. I'd probably let her shove me into a volcano if she promised to keep her hands on me until the end.
Naomi kneads into my biceps, and it feels like magic as my muscles release. I let out a loud groan that sounds wholly pornographic when she digs into a spot on my upper back that’s been bothering me for a week.
"There you go." Naomi's voice is soft.
I suppress a little whimper when her fingers graze my neck.
Her hands are everywhere as she finds all the knots. "You're so tense, Jameson. When was the last time you had a massage?"
"Um, I, uh..." I groan as she works her way up my neck and into my hair. "My family got me one of those massage guns last year for Christmas, so I use that every once in a while."
"Oh, yeah, those are great." Naomi wraps her arm around the front of my chest to get better leverage, her breasts pressed against my back. "But those are better for, like, hips and stuff. How do you get to your back muscles?"
I shake my head, unable to answer as I try not to come in my pants.
Naomi's voice is suddenly so close that her breath coasts over the shell of my ear as she whispers, "The new massage tables came in a few days ago. I could give you a full-body massage, andwe can test them out. Make sure they're good enough for future guests?"
Oh, God.Yes.
