“So, no more back rubs at work, then?”
“Not until my dick starts behaving, no.”
He laughs, rising up on his knees with his hands on my lower back, and presses down, using his whole weight until I wheeze. There’s a small crack somewhere in my back, and the tension loosens.
“Fuuck,” I groan. “Do that again.”
He lifts up, and presses down even harder and I moan.
“Remember when I told you I’m gay?” he says, a little breathless.
“Yeah?”
“Good. Maybe keep that in mind.”
I chuckle. “This is pretty fucked up, right?”
He snorts. “I’m rubbing lube all over your body while you’re moaning like a porn star. Yeah, I’d say it’s pretty fucked up.”
He keeps massaging me until my body starts to feel like Jello. I haven’t been this relaxed in weeks, and I smell like—
“Why do I smell like strawberry?”
“It’s edible,” Seth says.
“What?”
“The lube. It’s edible.”
And I don’t want to think about why he’s got edible lube, or what he’s done with it, because my body’s relaxed enough that my dick’s currently asleep but one wrong thought and I may wake the fucking beast.
“So, how do you feel about Kit lifting the restrictions?” he asks.
Kit announced the other day that we’ll be back to normal starting next week. That means there’ll be no restrictions on how many customers, and/or friends of said customers are allowed in the studio. And yeah, my pulse spiked when he told me, but I can’t keep holding the others back. We’re barely scraping by, and I’d really like to afford to buy my old car back.
I shrug as best as I can. “It is what it is.”
“You’re okay with it?”
“Yeah,” I mumble, not entirely truthfully.
“It’ll be fine,” he says. “You can still wear a mask, and most people should be vaccinated by now, yeah?”
And it could be the massage, but most likely, it’s Seth’s voice, and his reassurance that makes me feel just a little bit better about the whole thing.
If he says it’ll be fine, I trust that it will be.
Probably.
22
Seth
“YouknowwhatImiss?” Iggy says, planting herself on the couch.
“What?” I ask, dealing out the cans of Coke on the table. Kaden emerges from the bathroom, the smell of soap lingering around him when he drops down next to me. He hasn’t even left the studio today.
“Hockey games,” Iggy says.
