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One by one she added more oils and the scents of spruce and blue tansy filled the air. The knots behind his shoulder blades slowly released, as did those in his neck, too. The longer she massaged, the more pliant Garret became, and she loved the husky sounds he made as he lost himself in the experience.
Certain clients had a hard time relinquishing control because of body image or some other insecurity, but Garret was doing wonderfully. Unfortunately the same couldn’t be said of her. After a while her back began to spasm and pull from leaning over him the way she was. She hesitated, then shifted her hips to perch on the very edge of the couch.
“Are you tired? You can stop.” Garret’s voice emerged gruff and husky.
“Just getting comfortable,” she assured him as she returned to her ministrations. His winter-dry skin absorbed the fluid, so she added more massage oil, then kept her pressure and touch steady as she applied the last of the specialized oils she liked to use. Rosewood and lavender, sandalwood. The scents blended well together, a tantalizing, heady fragrance she associated with sleep.
Once more, Darcy ran her hands up to his neck, and across his back to his shoulders, upper arms and biceps until the muscles were completely lax beneath his skin. Finishing what she could of his arms with one of them scrunched up against the couch near his head, she returned to his back, her hands creating a friction she’d felt many times before, but never like this. She felt every tingle, the play of muscles and bone. The heat.
Hormones again. Had to be. Women were sexually charged beings during pregnancy, their bodies on overload. But it hadn’t been a problem before now which meant it was…because of Garret? She tried to focus, gave herself another lecture about professionalism and hoped he didn’t notice the slight hitch in her breathing. Still, she found herself pressing her knees together and once again thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking about her host. Luckily Garret’s breathing had eased. Had he fallen asleep? She wasn’t sure, but it was definitely time to end the session.
She smoothed her hands over his oil-silken skin one last time, moving slowly so as not to disturb him. A portion of the sheet lay between the couch and his side, and she placed the body-warmed material over him. Normally she’d use damp, warm towels to let the oils “bake,” but she’d improvise. Sheet in place, she rubbed her hands along his back to help create warmth through friction. Then she covered him with the lightweight blanket, as well, lingering over the task and knowing without a doubt that when she closed her eyes to sleep tonight she’d dream of Garret.
Chapter 11
GARRET AWOKEto the sound of laughter, throaty and feminine. Darcy. A smile formed on his lips before he opened his eyes. Muffled noises came from the kitchen, then Ethan’s laugh joined Darcy’s.
Huh?
He turned his head and squinted toward the clock on the electronics across from the couch. Nine-thirty.Nine-thirty?He hadn’t slept that late in—Not in years. And on a couch?
Remembering the night before, he put both palms over his face and rubbed. When she’d started the massage everything had been okay. His headache had started to ease, his neck had stopped hurting. But then she’d sat beside him and it was like having a jolt of electricity zap him.
He didn’t know if it was his abstinence of late, Darcy’s touch or the oils, but he’d been hard instantly. His mind had filled with all of the ways they could make use of those oils, and his body had turned into a furnace. Every stroke made him want to roll over and do some touching of his own.
After reciting the alphabet—backward—then forcing himself to plow through legal briefs in his head, he’d resorted to faking sleep to end the torture.
Shrugging off the knowledge that he was one sick puppy to lust after a pregnant woman, he gave himself time to get his body under control and rose, donning his shirt along the way.
“There’s Sleeping Beauty.”
Ethan’s tone mocked him from the stool where he sat as Garret entered the kitchen. He yawned and chose not to respond to the teasing. “When did you get home?”
“An hour ago. Good thing I didn’t call, huh? You were dead to the world when I came in.”
Darcy turned from the stove to smile at Garret. “I told you I could get you to sleep through the night.”
Ethan raised a suspicious eyebrow, then sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?”
He ignored his brother’s question and Darcy’s amused gaze, and focused on what she was cooking. His stomach growled. “Pancakes?”
“They’re almost ready. You like them, don’t you?”
“Love ’em. Do I have time for a quick shower?”
“Sure. Ten minutes?”
“I’m going to go get out of these scrubs.” Ethan stood and dogged Garret’s steps all the way into the bedroom.
Once there, his older brother shut the door and leaned against it. “Are younuts?I heard all about you rescuing some woman, but I didn’t know you’d brought her home. Why did you?”
“The state of emergency?”
“Like that ever stopped anyone from getting on the roads. I made it home, didn’t I?”
“You risking your neck is one thing. Taking a pregnant woman out there when she’s already had false labor would be the ultimate in stupidity.”
Ethan’s gaze narrowed. “No, the ultimate in stupidity is having her here in the first place. Does Joss know you brought another woman home?”
