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“You want a massage,” she repeated carefully.

He nodded.

“From me.”

“You think you’re up for it? I mean, I heard you’re the best.” He was playing her, and she was having none of it.

“Actually, Darnell is the best. He’s not in today, so I would suggest you come back tomorrow or Monday, and he would be more than happy to work out your knots.”

“I want you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why’s that exactly?” A ghost of a smile touched his mouth and drew her gaze down. She realized her heart was nearly beating out of her chest, and it would be a miracle if he couldn’t

hear it.

His smile widened, and she tore her gaze from his mouth to settle back on his eyes. He’d just challenged her, and Ruby had actually considered leaving. Crawling out of this room and letting him win. In the words of one very wise and talented Tom Petty, no way was she backing down. A thought struck her then. A devious sort of thought that maybe, on another day when she was thinking clearly and not sleep deprived, would never have popped into her head. But it was there, taking hold and making her feel bold.

“I don’t think you can handle me,” she retorted softly, not bothering to hide the dangerous edge to her voice. “I’ve had clients leave, barely able to walk, depending on the type of massage they requested. What kind are you looking for?” Her words were light. Almost clinical.

“You know. The deep-tissue kind.”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

Travis held her gaze, and she didn’t back down. She watched him, breath held, anticipating…what? What the hell was she doing?

“Let’s get started and see,” he replied, voice so low, she barely heard him. “Do you want me on my stomach or back?”

Her heart lurched, and she swallowed thickly. She had to take a moment because she didn’t trust herself to speak. Was she really going to do this?

“Stomach.”

Yep. She was really going to do this.

Travis didn’t hesitate. He turned over, and this time, the blanket slipped so low, his damn hockey ass was on full display. Hell, yeah, he was definitely naked. She yanked the blanket back in place and then reached for her oil. She could do this. She would rub the warmed liquid over every single inch of Travis Blackwell’s body and get him so worked up, he wouldn’t know what hit him. She would teach him a lesson. He thought he was seducing her, but she knew the score. She would bring him to the edge and then kick his butt out the door. She would make him regret ever coming back to Crystal Lake.

Ruby was in control here. Not him. Sex wasn’t on the table. She could resist the pull.

Liar.

The word whispered through her brain, but it was so soft and low, she didn’t hear it. Which was too bad, because as soon as Ruby’s hand slid up Travis’s back, she knew she was in trouble. But it was about three seconds too late to do anything about it.

Chapter 13

Twenty minutes of silence was all it took to get under Travis’s skin. Well, twenty minutes of silence if you didn’t count the heavy breathing (his) the music that was supposed to be relaxing but instead grated on every single nerve he owned, (hers) and the groaning of the bed as he kept moving around trying to find that elusive sweet spot. The one that allowed him a bit of relief and a whole lot more room for the hard package between his legs that was currently crushed against the massage bed.

Ruby’s hands were now at the small of his back, and he stifled a groan as they crept a bit lower. If she got anywhere near his hips, he just might start humping the table like a damn animal. Maybe he hadn’t thought his plan through. Maybe he was as crazy as Hudson thought he was. Or maybe he was just a glutton for punishment. He held his breath and clamped his teeth together as her hands worked their way back up his body.

He hadn’t signed up for this torture.

“My goodness, you’re tense,” she said softly, her voice near his ear.

No shit, he thought.

His head was buried in the face pillow, and he grimaced, glad she couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he managed to say without sounding too much like a candy ass. “The dock really did me in.”

“Your father’s, you said?” Again, her voice was close, throaty, sexy as hell. Her hands were insistent, and the smell of her was settled in his nostrils. God, she’d always smelled good. He kind of nodded, not trusting himself with words.

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