My cock twitches. Having her anywhere near my thighs right now is a very bad idea. “Charli?—”
“Quinn,” she replies, interrupting me. “Just do it. Roll over.”
So I do.
And when she places the sheet over my body, it’s exactly as I expected.
My erection has entered the conversation.
CHAPTER
SIX
Charli
My eyes are drawn in the most inappropriate and unprofessional way possible.
I can’t help it, it’s just…there.
Male clients have gotten erections before, and it’s never really bothered me. It’s part of it. I just don’t draw attention to it, while they do their best to conceal it. Hard to do with a thin blanket over you, but whatever. I get it. It’s biology.
But Quinn’s erection? I’m suddenly having very untimely and dirty thoughts, and my eyes keep sliding back to take in the view.
And what a view it is. Long, thick, and very hard. Even through his boxer briefs and the blanket, I get a pretty good idea of what he’s packing. How could I not? It’s outlined perfectly in front of me.
Clearing my throat, I move to his head so I can work on his shoulders and neck. Of course, when I get into position, I have to force my eyes to cast downward at what I’m doing, not steal more glimpses of his cock. I’ve never—and I mean never—had to use such restraint when it comes to a client. Ninety-nine percentof the time, I’m a complete professional, but for some reason, with this man, my nipples are hard and my panties are soaked just at first sight, and the repeated glimpses I keep stealing aren’t helping the matter.
I apply a bit more oil to my hands and move to his shoulders. He’s got more tattoos, ones I’ve already seen before, but this is the first time I’m truly seeing them up close and personal. His upper arm is inked with an American flag, tattered and torn, and yet still waving with pride and freedom as it rises out of the ruins.
There’s also a tattoo of a fish, and that one always makes me smile. Camden has the same one on his pec, an ode to their youthful fishing trips out at Wyatt’s property. I remember when they went to get them, both freshly eighteen and able to sign their own consent.
“What are you grinning at?”
I look down and find dark, curious eyes watching me. “Oh,” I reply with a little chuckle. “I was just thinking of the day you and Cam went to get these tattoos,” I tell him, thumping the fish on his skin.
He laughs, a throaty, gruff sound that makes my body tingle. “That was quite a day. It was his eighteenth birthday, and we had been planning it for months. Hell, probably even years.”
“Oh, I remember. He was so proud of it. He wanted to be like Cade and Collin, with their matching tattoos,” I say, digging my fingers into his tight muscles until they start to loosen.
He chuckles before sobering, his eyes sort of rolling around as the pleasure and pain of the massage slam into him in the most euphoric dance. I love watching the feels play across the faces and bodies of my clients, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been as affected as they were.
Because…can I tell you a secret?
I am most definitely affected.
Bad.
Watching the way he responds is a huge turn-on, and that’s completely inappropriate for multiple reasons. His skin is tan and warm. He’s also muscular, but not in that way guys who spend too much time in the gym are. Quinn has muscles from his job, and a sore back to go along with it.
A wave of irritation washes over me.
Why am I suddenly attracted to Quinn?
He’s my younger brother’s best friend and was practically raised at our house.
He’s five years younger than me!
Just then, my stomach growls. Of course it’s loud, because why wouldn’t it be when I’m alone in a room with a client and it’s quiet, with the exception of the tranquil waterfall sound and soothing elevator music.
