“You could benefit from more massage,” she says quietly afterone of my louder groans. “Everywhere I touch, you’re rock hard.”
My eyes fly open to reveal the ground below me. Bryn’s hands freeze. At the mention of being rock hard, even though she wasn’t talking about him, my cock grows against my thigh, hardening uncomfortably between my leg and the table.
This is not good.
“Tense. I mean, like, you’re tense. You’re very tense.”
She speaks so fast the words come out jumbled. Realizing that she must be as flustered as I am, I bend my arm back, touching her forearm. She sucks in a breath but doesn’t pull back.
“Are we both thinking the same thing?” I mumble from the headrest.
Though I can’t see her, I can picture the way her hand smooths down her stomach because there’s a pause before she answers. “Probably.”
Just like the other night, a grin spreads across my lips, though it feels weird with my face in the cradle. “I’ll be a gentleman and not talk about it.”
There’s a giggle from above, and my grin gets wider. Some of the tension in the room dissipates, and her hands start to move again, working up towards my neck where she causes another tingling sensation to rush through me. Whatever this is, it’s magic, and I’d pay her damn good money to never stop.
“Your neck is really tense,” she whispers, the nervousness of a few minutes gone. “I’m going to have you flip over so I can work on it.”
My eyelids had just begun to shut, but they spring back open.
No.
Not good.
Can’t happen.
Bad idea.
Horrible. Horrible idea.
“I’m okay on my stomach. Can’t you just work on my neck from here?”
“I have better access if you’re face up and I can get under you.”
Fuck me. Her under me, me between those glorious thighs, my cock pressing against her.
The one place I wasn’t rock hard has officially caught up.
Shifting to try and find a better position for my cock, who is desperate for attention, I shake my head. “How about we don’t do my neck?”
Her fingers dig gently into the flesh there, and I groan without intending to. The reaction causes her to laugh softly. “But you need it, see?”
What I need is for you not to see my cock tenting against my pants.
“Bryn, it’s not a good idea,” I grunt, my hips moving again. The friction against the table has me biting back every sound that wants to come out of my mouth right now.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
I hear it then. The innocence. Not necessarily a virginal innocence, but she has no idea what she’s done. The agony I’m in with a hard-on right on her table. Because of her and her hands.
“I, uh, there’s…” Taking a deep breath, I lift my face from the cradle, turning it in her direction, her hand slipping down to my shoulder blade. A bright light sits on one of the tables behind her, and I realize it’s her cell phone flashlight creating the glow in the room. Going for honesty, I charge ahead. “Every single part of me is… rock hard.”
“I know, I told—oh!” Surprise. “Oh.” Realization. “Oh.” Acceptance. “Oh, Wyatt—”
“Bryn, I’m going to need you tostop saying ‘oh’,” I say through clenched teeth, dropping my face back to the headrest. She’s killing me. Absolutely going to be the death of me. Bending my left knee, my leg rides higher on the bed, creating a pocket of space for my cock to rest more comfortably, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Oh god, I’m sorry. Shit! Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
