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Those words. Those fucking words might be my undoing.I laid back and tried to unwind, letting her hands work their magic. Her touch forced the memories of my childhood from my head, but in their absence, visions of Emmy flooded in to fill the space they’d left. Her hair tonight at the gig, the way she looked in the pool, her smile, the curve of her hips, her long, toned legs. They engulfed my senses, overloading my body.
“Erm, rock star…?”
My eyes sprung open to find her staring down at my cock, which was currently rock hard, tenting my boxers. Precum leaked through the soft black fabric, my arousal obvious to us both.
“Shit, Em. I’m so sorry. I don’t know… shit.” I pulled a pillow from behind my head and covered my erection.
“I see you like the foot rub.” She giggled, and a tiny bit of relief flooded my chest.
“I blame the cat piss tea. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable, angel.”
“Ah, you forget, Tanner. I’ve seen it all before.”
I stared, confused.
“My dream.”
“I forgot about the scream-worthy sex dream. What did I do to you to make you shout out so loudly?” I silently cursed at my question, because this conversation was going to do nothing to help the boner situation still going on under the pillow that covered my lap.
“No idea. It’s all a blur,” she said, a blush spreading across her cheeks.
“Come on, Em. Tell me. I mean, it was just a dream.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her, and she closed her eyes, shaking her head with a huff.
“Gah, you’re impossible. You kissed me, I screamed. That’s all I remember.”
I watched the blush that covered her chest and cheeks deepen and I knew that wasn’t all of it.
“Are you sure, angel?”
“I’m sure, Tanner. Now, can we just forget about it?” she mumbled, turning her attention back to my foot rub.
“No.” I needed to know if she felt like I did. If the very presence of me in a room sent her into a tailspin like she did to me. I needed to know that what I was about to do next wouldn’t ruin our friendship and have her running home to her tortoise and the life she hated so much.
Her hands paused on my foot. Biting down on her bottom lip, her eyes flicked upward and locked onto mine, and for a second the world stopped turning. “No?”
“No.” I paused, suddenly nervous. I was the lead singer of a rock band. I didn’t do nervous, but this woman had butterflies bouncing in my stomach and my mouth going dry. “Something has been happening. Something between us. Tell me I’m not imagining this, angel. Tell me you feel it too?”
She stared at me, eyes wide, and time stood still while I waited for her to say something... anything. Then she nodded. Her head movement was so small that I barely registered it.
My heart hammered at her admission. “I want to touch you, Emmy. Can I? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable around me, but I’m so desperate to touch you.”
“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly.
I moved to sit on my knees, bringing my body closer to hers. Reaching for the bottle of oil that was lying on the bed next to her, I poured some into my palm, rubbing my hands together so it coated my skin.
“Are you sure about this? You can stop me whenever you want.”
“I want you to touch me, Tan.”
I reached up slowly, running my index finger along her jaw, watching as the oil painted her skin. Her breath hitched and her throat bobbed as she struggled to swallow. Closing her eyes, her lips parted, and I ran my oil-covered fingers over them, desperate to kiss her but wanting to take it slowly.
“You okay, angel?”
Still with her eyes closed, she replied, her soft words stretching out into the silence of the room. “I am. Touch me again.”
This time I traced my finger down her throat and ran it over her collarbone, where my large shirt had slipped from her shoulder. “It’s been such a long time since I let anyone touch me.”
My heart hammered in my chest from her confession. “You want more?”
