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I snort. “Maybe I’ve always been bossy and you never knew. Are you okay in this position?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. You really don’t have to do this.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to help, and this is the only thing I can think of. I’m not an expert at massage or anything, so let me know if something doesn’t feel good or makes your back worse.”
He makes a throaty sound that doesn’t form a real word.
“You have to tell me, Arthur.”
“I will,” he says hoarsely. Then “Thanks.”
I’ve been so concerned about his well-being that I’m only now really noticing that he didn’t put a shirt on when he got out of the shower. He’s wearing nothing but the old gray sweats he wore last week.
His skin is firm, stretched smoothly over long bones and natural muscle development. His sweats are low on his hips. I can see the top of his butt, and it makes me want to gulp.
I run my hands up and down the length of his back. Hear him take a quick breath.
“Is it your lower back?”
“Yeah.”
I press a little firmer, rubbing from his shoulders down to the small of his back. I could really use some lotion, but looking for some feels like a hassle, so I do my best without it. His breath hitches again when I move lower. The muscles are very tight. No wonder he’s sore.
“You’re way too tense. You should get professional massages.”
“It never seemed worth the trouble. I’m really fine without—”
“Stop trying to get me to give up. I really don’t mind. I want to help.”
I rub down the lines of his muscles, finding the hard little trigger points and pushing into them. He inhales sharply and exhales thickly. The sounds make my belly clench.
This isn’t sexy, but it’s intimate. The coiled feeling inside isn’t arousal, but it’s akin to it—like he’s mine and it’s my job to take care of him.
To distract myself from that direction of thoughts, I ask, “So what meetings did you have today?”
“Work stuff,” he mumbles. His head is turned to the side, his eyes closed.
“I know it’s work stuff. I was wondering what work stuff. What kind of meetings did you have? Don’t you normally do your work remotely?”
“Yeah. This was different. I’m working on some reorganization that we were finalizing, and it was easier to be there in person.”
“What kind of reorganization?” I’ve moved my hands up and down his back and located where the muscles are tensest, where the worst trigger points are. I start focusing there, applying more pressure.
He releases a groan as I push down on his lower back.
“Is that too much?” I ask, lightening the pressure immediately.
“No,” he rasps. “It’s good.” He shifts his legs slightly.
“What kind of reorganization?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, so I wait. Then he finally says, “I’m changing the leadership structure for a lot of the Worthing holdings.”
Genuinely interested, I ask, “In what way?”
“So I’m not the final decision-maker for everything.”
“Oh my goodness. That’s a major change, isn’t it?”
