Page 25 of Scarred

“Deal,” he nods, closing his eyes and settling into the pose I have him in.

“Let’s get to work then,” I breathe out in relief that he’s going to give this a shot. I’m too deeply invested now and know without a doubt I can help him.

“Just for the record, though,” he says, opening one eye to peer at me. “If you start to hogtie me with these straps, I’m walking away. Deal or no deal.”

“Scared to be tied up by a woman?” I tease.

“No. I just prefer to be the one to do the tying.”

NINE

CAYDEN

What the fuck am I saying?

I don’t flirt, and I sure as hell don’t get worked up by just a single touch.

I’m lying on this fucking mat, strapped no less, having to feel her hands on my bare skin.

Having to lie here while her hair brushes my shoulders, or inhale the sweet scent of lavender on her skin every time she leans over me.

I should be numb.

To her touch.

To her smell.

To her.

But I’m not.

I feel everything.

I resisted at first, refusing to let go, but just the sound of her voice has me wanting to bare my soul to her.

She’s bringing up emotions, I’ve buried a long time ago—emotions I’m not ready to bring to the surface.

I’d be blind not to notice she’s feeling something too. Even though she’s keeping her touch professional, I could feel the subtle shift in the air when we made contact. The way her eyes linger just a little bit longer. The hitch in her breathing whenever we get too close.

And that blush staining her cheeks now is silently telling me she’s having thoughts that she shouldn’t.

That fucking blush does something to me every time I see it. Makes me want to do and say things just to see it again. My cock twitches in my sweats, begging me to reverse our positions. Wanting to know what it would feel like to have her body under me, tied up and writhing in pleasure—making that blush appear over and over again.

Fisting my hands at my sides, I close my eyes again and will the thoughts away.

“Let’s just get this done,” I grind out, not trusting myself to look at her. The sooner we are done, the sooner I can get my head back on straight. I don’t need or want anything more in my life. Especially not from someone capable of making me feel.

“Okay,” she quietly says, getting to work on adjusting my position as I sink further into the bolster. Even though my mind tries to fight it, my muscles surrender to her voice as she softly brings me to a relaxed state again.

Her hands move over me, applying steady pressure. She holds them there as I feel a deep stretch in my lower back and hips.

I stay on alert at first, but her voice and touch break through my barriers, and I find myself sinking deeper into the pose.

Guiding me in my breaths, I let myself do something I’ve never been able to do before.

I just…am.

No thoughts or worries.