AllFreeNovel
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I’m his latest snack.
“Drop the towel, lie on the bed.”
“What the fuck?” I grip the edge tighter, holding it against my body. “Erick, absolutely not.”
“You need to relax. You’re a mess. Drop the towel, get on the bed.”
“Stop it. You’re going too far.” I shake my head as he stands. Did I mention that he’s big and beautiful? Because the guy unfolds himself, standing up to his full height, his muscles flexed and lovely through his tight button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show vein-roped forearms. “Look, I get it, I’m tired and strung out. Let me have another four hours of sleep. I’m in good shape.”
“You’re right, the painting’s coming along. I actually think you’ll finish in time. But you need to relax. You’re a mess.”
“Seriously, stop insulting me, please.”
“Take off the towel and lie on the bed.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else I am going to force you down and that won’t be fun for either of us. No towel. Face down.”
I stare at him, frowning. “Face down? You’re not—”
His smirk makes me want to jab a brush down my own throat. “I’m going to give you a massage before you get some sleep.”
“Oh.” I blink a few times. “Oh.” I had other things in mind. “Oh.”
“Did your brain just break?”
“No! I’m fine. I just—I’m fine.”
“I’m good at this, okay? I knew this girl—”
“I don’t need details.” I walk to the bed, still in the towel, but climb on face-down. I wriggle free, but leave the towel draped over my ass. “Best you’ll get.”
“Good enough.” He climbs up beside me, kneeling, looming.
“You better not be fucking around. You better—” But he shuts me up as soon as he touches my body.
Holy shit.Holy shit.
If this man weren’t too much already, he really wasn’t kidding about the massage. No, he’s not a professional, but he’s so damn good with his hands that it’s absurd. I really want to hate it, really want to resist it, but after maybe thirty seconds I’m making these really embarrassing whale-like moans. Low, animalistic, satisfying. He doesn’t seem to mind as his hands drift lower and lower, down to the edge of the towel, and then there’s no towel at all, and he’s kneading my ass, and fuck him, I’d scream and make him stop if it didn’t feel so damn good.
Arousal fills me. I’m groaning as I turn my head. He’s staring at me, eyes like fire.
“You’re too low,” I whisper, biting my lip, salivating at the thought of him going even lower.
“You need this.”
“How do you know what I need?”
“Your body’s telling me. That’s what I’ve learned over the years. Listen to the body.”
“My body’s saying I need to finish that painting.”
“No, little devil, it’s saying you want my hand between your legs. You’re wound up too tightly for a little massage to help.”
“Okay, see, I knew this was where you were going.” I think about escaping, but I’m very naked, and if I move at all, he’ll see everything. As if there’s much to hide at this point.
His hands don’t stop. He works my lower back. My shoulders. Down to my ass again. And this time, he doesn’t stop, one hand dropping down between my legs.
