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Chapter Fifty-five

Mike

When Mike stopped the physical exertion and the adrenaline fled from his body, his hands and forearms were so sore that he didn’t have the strength to remove the athletic tape from around his knuckles. Mike wasn’t sure how long he’d been going at it; all he knew was he didn’t want to stop until he could no longer feel the piercing-hot sword driving through his chest. But standing there—more like leaning heavily—against Rayne and allowing him to shoulder a bit of the burden for a few moments made him want to crumble and fall. But that’s not what men like him did.

“Come with me to my room,” Rayne whispered against his cheek.

“I don’t think that—”

“Shhh.” Rayne touched his finger to Mike’s lips. “I don’t want you to think at all. I just want you to do exactly as I say.”

Mike got lost in Rayne’s beautiful eyes as he gazed back at him with understanding and compassion. Something Mike wasn’t used to. He nodded because he was too weak and devastated to do anything else. Rayne kept one strong arm around Mike’s waist as he led him across the hall and into his bathroom. The tub was full, and steam rose from the scented water.

“I don’t take baths,” Mike grumbled.

“That’s fine, because I’m going to bathe you myself.”

Rayne let that black, silky sexy shit he had on fall off his body and land at his feet on the floor. Next, he hooked his thumb in those skimpy briefs, bent forward, and dragged them down his long legs while Mike watched through hooded lids.

Any further refusal he had died on his lips as he stared at Rayne’s sleek, naked form. If he was getting in the tub with him, then sure, Mike would go along with that plan. It took more effort than he wanted to admit using his thigh muscles to lift his legs, but he awkwardly made it over the side of the deep tub and settled his body down in the hot water. Rayne eased behind him and spread his legs wide until they were wrapped around his waist and his ankles locked over his stomach. Mike leaned his sore back against Rayne’s firm chest and turned his face into his throat in search of that powerful fragrance that was strongest near his pulse.

Mike was drifting to sleep until he felt a thick sponge stroking over his chest and down his abs. The water was slick and soothing to his aching muscles as Rayne massaged some tender points at the base of his neck that he combined with washing him and placing sweet kisses to the side of his face.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting like this.” Rayne broke the silence after a long moment. Mike’s head was still pounding, but the ringing in his ears had stopped. “I know what arranging that wedding meant to you.”

“Obviously, it meant nothing to my son for me to be there,” Mike answered, his throat feeling as if he was trying to swallow a rock.

“I think Bishop was so blindsided by Ivy that he acted impulsively. His life was turned upside down within minutes. I think marrying Edison like that made him feel back in control,” Rayne explained, and for a moment, Mike understood that logic, but it didn’t make the pain lessen.

“That’s enough soaking.” Rayne eased from behind him and stepped out of the tub like a graceful panther. “I’m gonna massage you now.”

Before Rayne could wrap his towel around his lower half, Mike’s gaze instinctually went to his slender cock, and he wondered if having some of that inside of him could make it all stop. Maybe they could skip the massage and go straight to bed.

Mike hated how weak his voice sounded. “Rayne, it’s late, and I know you’re tired too. Let’s just go to bed, okay? I want this whole damn night to just be over.”

“We’ll sleep… after the massage.” Rayne helped him out of the tub. “But unfortunately, it’s not going to be the same one I gave you before. I have to give you a sports massage, or else you’re not going to be able to move at all this weekend or Monday.”

“A what massage?” Mike felt as if he would fall over if he wasn’t leaning against the counter.

Rayne covered his smooth, ivory flesh with the robe, then took Mike’s hand, his expression sympathetic but firm, and gestured for him to get on the table.

“A sports massage helps with muscle tightness after intense exercise. I’m hoping some cross-fiber friction, direct pressure to the tendons, and a lot of stretching will help minimize your muscle soreness in the morning.”

“I’ll be fine,” Mike refuted weakly, though he was already butt naked, facedown on the table.

“Yes, you will be when I’m finished with you, but…” Rayne sighed as he pumped some oil into his hands and rubbed them together, creating heat in his palms before he placed them across Mike’s shoulders and bore down. “You may not like me very much while I’m doing this.”

Uh, what? Mike didn’t know what Rayne meant, but so far, all the compression and kneading was starting to lull him into a deep sleep until Rayne took his arm, folded it behind his back, and pulled. “Fuck!” Mike hollered, eyes flying open. His bicep muscle screamed louder than he did as Rayne used broad, intense strokes over the strained ligaments.

By the time Rayne told Mike to flip over onto his stomach, he wanted to growl that he’d had enough, roll off the table, and crawl to the nearest bed. Rayne had been right—this massage was nothing like the other one that had ended with him thrusting his ass into Rayne’s pelvis and coming harder than he ever had in his life.

“Ow, Rayne. My leg doesn’t go that damn far,” Mike grunted while Rayne bent his leg and used his shoulder to push his thigh toward his chest. “I don’t do yoga, remember.”

Rayne chuckled lightly, but he didn’t reduce the pressure. If Mike didn’t know any better, he’d think Rayne was making him pay for what he’d done.

“Are you trying to torture me? Don’t you think I’ve already taken care of that?” Mike grimaced after Rayne put his thigh down, only to turn it outward and bend it again. “Damn you.”

“Almost over… I promise. Then you can sleep.” Rayne kissed his cheek, and when Mike met his gaze, he saw it there in Rayne’s gray eyes and his sweet smile, he swore he did. Love.

“Maybe I don’t wanna go to sleep,” Mike rumbled, reaching out and stroking Rayne’s hard stomach as he worked. “Maybe I want you first.”

“You don’t even have to ask, Mike. I’ll give you all of me anytime you want it,” Rayne promised, helping him off the table a few minutes later. His legs felt like limp noodles, but he managed to hobble to his bed with Rayne close behind him.

Mike didn’t care about cleaning the oil off his body before he climbed into bed and pulled Rayne on top of him. Mike remembered kissing him and getting lost in the peace and tenderness of his touch, but after that… it was all a blank. Mike cracked his eyes open again, and the sun was streaming through the crack in his curtains.

Damnit. He hoped he hadn’t fallen asleep mid-kiss with his hand on Rayne’s ass.

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