Page 41 of Trouble


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He doesn’t answer, and I chew my bottom lip as I move my hands lower again. I do my best not to think about what’s hiding under his pubic bone. He has an impressive eggplant, and he knows how to use it. A flash of his mouth on my body heats my panties, and I slam that door.

So what if he made me come… four times. So will the next man I find. The better man.

“Are you doing okay?” I slide my hand along his narrow waist.

“That feels really good.” He grinds out as I roll my fist along the muscle wrapping around his waist.

He’s so damn gorgeous. Kneading my fingers along his torso, I distract my mind with thoughts of baseball and cold showers and Oliver’s pet tree frog… Anything to keep from getting lost in the memories.

“God…” He gasps. “That’s where it is…”

Pausing, I take my time, focusing on the specific area causing him pain. “Better?”

“I’m sure it’ll be great once you stop.”

I do laugh this time, but it’s quiet, soothing. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for saving me.”

“As if I would stand there and let you crash onto the floor. You could’ve been killed.” He adds the last part quietly, just above a whisper.

“It was very heroic.” I think about the split second when I was in his arms and our eyes met, just before we both went down. “Like something out of a movie.”

“Not a Disney movie, I hope.” He turns to the side and looks up at me.

A lock of hair falls over his left eyebrow, and my eyes trace down his straight nose, past the dimple in his chin to the light dusting of dark hair on his chest.

He’s so handsome, like a prince.

“Maybe it was.” Leaning to the side, I admire his face.

Just as quickly, his scowl returns. “Don’t get any ideas, Joselyn. I did what I did because it was the right thing to do.”

Embarrassment flashes in my neck, and I move away so he can’t see the red flame in my cheeks. Why does he have to be such a bastard?

“Well, I’m here to try and even the scales.” Swiping my forearms across the large muscles in his back, I notice a white scar stretching across the top of his right shoulder.

It’s large and long, and I would guess it’s from being struck with a whip or hit by a tree branch. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before, although I was slightly buzzed and very overwhelmed with sensation the last time we were naked together.

“What happened here?” I place my palm on the top of it, and he flinches away.

“Childhood injury. Leave

it alone.”

Taking my hand away, I study the silver stripe. “Must’ve been pretty serious to leave a scar like that. Were you cut… or hit? Was it a car accident?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Actually, if you have a pre-existing injury, it can be helpful for me to know when I’m providing future treatment.”

“I won’t require future treatment. Thanks for the back rub.”

He starts to move away, and I resist getting pissed by his dismissal. He’s like a wild animal protecting a wound, and I want to put my hands on him again, slide them across this place where he’s storing so much hurt. I want to ease him to safety.

My tongue slips out to touch my bottom lip, and I remember what he can be like when he stops being cold. It’s addictive, and as angry as he makes me, I want to feel his warmth again.

Instead, I step back and take the towel, using it to wipe my arms before quickly packing my supplies in my messenger bag. “You might not feel so great tonight, but the healing should set in overnight. Maybe take some ibuprofen and drink plenty of water. By tomorrow, I think you’ll feel well enough to attend the gala.”

“I will attend the gala.”

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