“The eagle and lion represent strength, freedom, and independence. I wasn’t really sure how I wanted them mixed and left the design concept up to Dwayne. He fucking killed it,” I say, glancing down at the tattoo. There’s a lion head at the top with an eagle head just beneath it. They’re offset a bit andlooking in opposite directions. The realism is out of this world and the shading top-notch. It’s a badass piece, and I’m damn honored to have it on my skin.
“He really did.” She glances one last time at my chest before taking a step back, dropping her hand in the process. “I made an appointment.”
“Yeah? What are you getting?”
“Well, Sommer and I are both getting one. We’ve been talking about doing a besties tattoo for a while now, and I decided my thirtieth birthday was the right time. We’re getting two hearts, one colored for her and one for me, with the words ‘soul sisters’ beneath it.”
The picture she paints makes me grin. “Very fitting.”
“Isn’t it?” she asks with a chuckle. “Anyway, you should climb onto the table. Let’s get this show on the road, or I’m going to charge you extra for the extended appointment time.”
Shaking my head, I lift the top sheet and climb onto the bed, face down. I can feel her eyes on me, and there’s a smile on my face when I place it in the headrest. With my hands on the pegs beneath me, I take a few deep breaths and try to relax. I’m a bit uncomfortable, considering my cock is still very much a part of the conversation at the moment.
I feel her adjust the sheet, folding it down to cover my ass. “Ready?”
“Definitely.”
Then, I feel her hands on my back and I tense. “Relax.”
I inhale and let it out slowly. With my eyes closed, I focus on my breathing as she starts to move her hands. Her fingers work over my back gently, stretching and warming up the muscles. As good as this feels, I know what’s to come is even better.
“Tell me if you need more or less pressure, okay?”
“Yep,” I mutter, even though I can barely open my mouth, thanks to the donut of the headrest.
She digs her fingers into my muscles and it’s almost orgasmic. I bite back a moan of pleasure and feel the tension just ebb from my body. Her strokes are slow and her fingers apply the perfect amount of pressure to knead and work the muscles in my back. Charli expertly works over my back and shoulders, causing just enough pain to feel so fucking good. Of course, adding to it is the fact the hands rubbing my body right now belong to the one woman I’ve wanted for pretty much my entire adult life, and can’t have, is a reminder of why I went to the other massage place. There, I didn’t have to worry about my body’s reaction to a good rubdown, and despite being as relaxed as I can get, my body has a mind of its own.
“Is this okay?” she asks softly, digging the heel of her palm into a knot.
I can’t stop the groan this time. “Jesus, Charli. Fucking amazing.”
Her hands pause but only for the briefest of moments. It happens so fast, I almost wonder if I just imagined it. Charli keeps going, grinding into my muscles and tendons until they’re loose. I breathe through it, focusing on relaxation.
When she moves to my lower back, it’s the best kind of pain there is. She digs into my hips, causing everything in me to tense and scream. “Lord, you’re tight.”
“No shit,” I mutter, grimacing as she works over my achy muscles.
“How often do you go to North Ridge?” she asks. There isn’t a hint of annoyance in her voice this time, just curiosity.
“Depending on the time of year and how busy I am, I go every three to four weeks.”
She doesn’t stop what she’s doing, just keeps hitting every sore or tender spot I have. “Holy shit, Quinn, your knots have knots,” she says, using her elbows to manipulate the muscles.
It’s pure torture mixed with pleasure, and I can’t help but wonder if the woman is getting off on it. “You’re enjoying this,” I say with a wince.
Her light chuckle is like a bolt of lightning straight to my groin. “I enjoy what I do, yes. I don’t usually like making people hurt, but it is an added bonus having you on my table.Andfor using Massage Paradise over in North Ridge.” She changes her tone to disgust when she says the business name, which makes me smile. “I can’t believe you’ve been massage cheating on me with Selena.” Again, she uses the same tone when she says the woman’s name, letting me know exactly how she feels.
Lifting my head, I glance over my shoulder and say, “Well, you did tell me you’d never touch me. I believe your exact words were ‘I’d rather lick Farmer Charleston’s smelly feet than touch you.’”
She laughs hard, throwing her head back in a way that makes blood swoosh in my ears. “That does sound like something I’d say,” she agrees, returning her attention to my hips.
“You totally said it. We were sitting at your parents’ dining room table, having cake after your graduation from massage therapy school. You wore that light pink sundress with those strappy sandals you liked so much.”
“The ones with the little flowers?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
The moment she stops what she’s doing, I realize my mistake. “You remember what I was wearing the day I graduated?”
