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We’re just staring at each other, and her hands don’t stop moving, touching, caressing me.
And my dick has definitely taken notice, already hardening beneath my fucking briefs.
Temptation floods into my veins, and every cell inside my body wants me to lift my hands, pull down her tank top, and suck one hard nipple into my mouth.
Because her fucking nipples are hard.
So hard, they’re practically waving at me from beneath her damn shirt.
She bites down on her bottom lip, and fuck me, the urge to pull that full mouth of hers to mine and feel if those lips are as soft as they look is beyond enticing.
Hell, the urge to pull her onto my lap so her luscious thighs are straddling my hips is almost too much to control.
I don’t know whether I need to shove her hands off me or act on animalistic instinct.
But before I can even decide, something shifts in the air and Leah yanks her hands away from me like my skin is on fire.
“Uh…” She pauses, blinks several times, and clears her throat. “I…uh…I think that’s about it for today.” Her voice shakes with shock and nerves and I don’t know what else. “Yep,” she adds on a ramble as she quickly tosses the towel back over my leg. “You’re all set. Alllll set. Good to go. Massage time done.”
I stare back at her, completely at a loss for words.
I have no idea what just happened or why I was feeling the shit I was feeling, but with the way she keeps dropping shit as she tries to stuff it into her bag, I can assume I’m not the only one who’s confused.
“So…uh…we’re done?” I eventually question, sitting up slightly on the bed. “For the whole day?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nods but avoids my gaze completely and strides into my bathroom to grab a fresh towel even though there’re still two towels sitting on my nightstand.
“So, yeah,” she continues and tosses the towel my way. “You’re all set for the day. Just make sure you do some ice tonight, and… uh…yeah…uh…I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And then, she’s gone. Out of my bedroom, down the hall, and once the sound of her footsteps reaches the front of the house, I hear the screen door creak open and slam shut.
What the fuck was that?
As I get up off my bed and wipe the massage oil off my leg, I realize my cock is still hard as a hammer beneath my briefs.
Pretty sure you’re not supposed to get hard-ons while your doctor is massaging your leg, you sick bastard.
I’m also pretty sure that I should avoid having Dr. Leah Levee massage my leg.
Like, at all fucking costs, that shit shouldn’t happen again.
Too bad you’re already wondering when the next deep tissue massage will occur…
Leah
The instant I’m out of Rhett’s house and in my loaner truck, I waste no time starting the engine and getting the hell out of tempting-cowboy dodge before my libido has any more time to act a fucking fool.
What in the hell happened back there?
In the rearview mirror, I glance at Rhett’s house as it disappears with a cloud of dust behind me.
Never in my career have I ever fantasized about having sex with a patient.
Not one single fucking time.
Yet, back there, that’s exactly what I did.
I groan and grip the steering wheel tighter as I turn onto the road that leads to my cabin.
In reality, after the massage, I should’ve pushed his leg through some stretching, but hell’s bells, it was more than apparent my stupid, horny body couldn’t handle anymore up close and personal contact with Rhett Jameson today.
Are you sure, though? Because you could’ve easily just slid down those briefs of his and saddled the fuck up. And, boy oh boy, from the looks of it, that cowboy is packing some serious—
Oh. My. God.
Is this a stroke?
Am I having a stroke?
I force a deep inhale and exhale into my lungs.
“Stop being a lunatic,” I tell myself out loud. “Just chill the fuck out and stop thinking about what that man looks like naked. Or while he’s having sex. And definitely don’t think about what he’d look like while having sex with you.”
I cringe, and when I see my cabin up ahead, instead of turning into the driveway, I drive straight past it and head to the closest “cell spot” that Tex showed me on the map.
The instant I get there, I slam on the brakes, grab my cell phone out of my bag, hop out of the truck, and start walking until all the bars on my phone appear.
Fingers to the keys, I type out a message to Carla and Taylor.
Me: Anyone around to offer some advice?
Carla: GIRL, I thought I’d never hear from you. I’ve tried to call and text and email, but you never answer.
