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“What you should be worried about is being manhandled in front of the two massage ladies because I won't be able to not get hard when I'm inches away from my almost entirely naked wife.”
I feel my eyes widen when I realize what he means, also for the first time realizing he will be naked also. Or darn close to it. Cra-a-ap.
“This may not have been my best plan,” he mumbles, looking down at my body.
I murmur back to him, “We'll be fine, right?”
“Right,” Barrett says with a firm nod of his head. It looks like he's mumbling something under his breath because I just see his lips moving, and his eyes are closed.
“What in the world are you doing?”
“Umm… I'm trying to distract myself,” he says, eyes still closed.
“And how are you doing that?”
He slowly opens his eyes and shrugs his shoulders. “I'm reciting the presidents, alphabetizing the states, picturing Josh's ugly mug. You know, stuff to get my mind off it.”
I smash my lips together to stop from teasing him, but then I get a better idea.
I decide at that moment to make the best of the situation and to challenge Barrett — and apparently me — by starting to strip in front of him. I step out of my simple black ballet flats, and slowly I begin to peel off my sweatshirt before I let it unceremoniously drop to the floor next to me. My black push-up bra is currently doing wonders for my assets, so I decide not to remove it... yet. I move my hands to my jeans and pop the button then slowly drag the zipper down. I — seductively in my mind, but who knows how ridiculous I actually look — bend over and slide my jeans down my legs.
“Tess,” he growls in warning. Maybe it was seductive after all.
“What?” I ask not innocently in any way as I continue to remove my jeans.
“Fine. You wanna play, sweet girl? Let's play.”
In the blink of an eye, Barrett has his shoes toed off and his dark green Henley shirt pulled over his head — that incredibly sexy way that men do by just grabbing the collar — his strong chest and shoulders looking even bigger in the low light. Before I can react, he has his dark jeans pushed down his muscular thighs. In seconds, he's almost entirely naked, and my eyes can't decide what to feast themselves on first.
I swear the spa has Ginuine’sPonystreaming through the speakers because, next thing I know, he’s pulling someMagic Mikemoves and touching me everywhere — only he hasn’t actually touched me. His presence, so near to me, is like a thousand tongues licking at my body, making me pant and almost come unglued right there on the spot. He’s moving around me in ways he’s never moved before, whispering sexiness into my ear as he leans close enough that I can smell the mountain air scent of his body wash. He nips at my ear and takes me by the upper arms before spinning me around so his chest is to my back. Swiftly he unhooks my bra and throws it in the corner with the rest of our clothes, taking over the striptease that I had initially intended to do for him.
He reaches around my front and palms my chest, squeezing and pinching with just the right pressure. His hips are still gyrating, causing both of us to do a slow grind against each other. His movements have slowed… painfully so. NowRideis filtering through my mind, and I’m about ready to tell him to grab one of the candles and drip hot wax on me.
Before I can get too deep into my fantasy, Barrett spins me around and wraps me up in his arms, his tongue invading my mouth in a drunk hunger. His hands glide into my hair, keeping me close to him. It’s a hurried race for who can touch each other more quickly. His black boxer briefs sport an impressive tent that I can't wait to get my hands on.
Before we can get anywhere we want — and need — to go, we hear a knock on the door, bringing us back to reality. That reality being that we’re in the middle of a massage room, about to get a couple’s salon. Not in a bedroom. Or alone.
“Are you both ready?” one of the two ask.
“Just a minute!” Barrett hollers, his voice — or growl, rather — a mix of frustration, irritation and panic.
“Oh! All… alright. Just let us know!” she squeaks out.
Embarrassment floods over me, and I squeak also, dropping my face into my hands even though no one but Barrett is in the room with me.
He takes a deep breath through his nose and blows it out his mouth. “Well lying down on my stomach is going to be loads of fun.”
I giggle and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Relax, babe. All. Week. Long.”
He takes a few deep breaths and then pulls me close once again, my arms going around his waist. “Damn right,” he murmurs and kisses me below my ear. “All. Week. Long. You're mine. Mind and body. Every single part of you is mine.”
Then the jerk lies down under the sheet and puts his face in the pillow hole thingy, like he didn’t just send erotic starbursts through my entire body.
“We’re ready!” he shouts at the door then looks up at me. “Lie down, babe. Relax,” he says teasingly.
* * *
Surprisingly both of us do. Relax, that is. The massage is exactly what we both need. We stare into each other’s eyes, reach over the space between the tables and hold hands, rub each other’s arms, and come to a sense of complete calm. The oils they have diffusing in the air and the soft tranquil music being piped through the room help create a romantic atmosphere. One hour later, we're both jelly, our bodies fully drained of all the stress that we brought in with us. We stumble out of the room looking like we just spent an hour boozing it up, rather than getting a massage.
