by L. L. Ash
No towel or sheet covered me. When I shifted and turned, I was full nude pointing up, boobs and bush and all.
“You,” he whispered, taking one step forward with each word, “are beautiful.”
Fingers touched my shoulders, then dragged down to my elbow, then jumped to my waist and belly.
“Nakey,” I whispered back. “All’s fair, right?”
“Is this love or war?” he asked with a wink.
A little bit of both maybe.
Or just lust.
Yeah, it was just plain, old fashioned lust.
Jamie turned away for only a moment before returning with the hot oil, dropping it in steaming rivulets down my body and between my breasts. It was erotic in the very essence of the word.
Honestly, I kind of felt like I was trapped in the middle of one of my taboo romances. The hot, dirty masseur? That only happened in fiction, right?
His fingers dragged me out of my thoughts when they started moving, dragging a long trail between the mounds of my breasts and up the long, pale column of my neck until his hands were in my hair.
More hot oil dripped onto my head, and his fingers got to work rubbing and massaging my scalp. My eyes closed, and I was successfully distracted by the mostly naked man in front of me and my totally naked self lying so vulnerably on the table.
Dumb or not, I trusted him. I knew he wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want him to. Plus, something in my gut told me that he didn’t do this for every hot girl that laid on his table. It felt special, for both of us.
“Fucking beautiful,” he said again, leaning down until his mouth was so close to my ear that I could feel his breath against it.
He pulled a little at my hair, and I tipped my head back as his breath hitched and his teeth sank into my earlobe.
I was moaning again, and not from his hands.
Encouraged, he moved down a little and pulled it between his lips in a languid suck that had my mouth popping open like some kind of wanton hussy.
Well, maybe I was.
His lips went down and so did his hands as he stroked the oil into my belly, pawing me with just the right pressure, but staying away from everything my brain was screaming for him to touch.
“You’re a tease,” I huffed, breathless against each lick and suck of his mouth on my neck. “You said something about a happy ending.”
“You’re impatient,” he muttered back.
I huffed again, though I wasn’t as annoyed as I wanted to appear. My body was burning up from the inside out, and the last time I’d felt that was when Hunter had his mitts on me.
Shit. I didn’t want to think about Hunter.
“Kiss me,” I told him, and he obeyed.
He writhed for a second, shimmying out of his underwear, then he gripped the table on either side of me. In one smooth motion he pressed his knee between mine and crawled up, never letting his mouth separate from mine.
His kisses were hot and brutal, lustful and full of promises that I had a feeling he actually could fulfill.
Oh God...his hands found my boobs.
The strokes and squeezes of his hands weren’t so different from the abhyanga gliding hand movements, but I had an inkling that he had changed things up just a bit for me.
With a sharp bite to my lower lip, he moved down until he was sucking on each pink nipple, coaxing another moan from my mouth as my hips wiggled and wiggled, hoping for something that he could give.
His hands kept massaging, even though he was busy with my boobs, and when he finally gave up on those, he moved even further down on the table until he was off of it again. Fingers dug into my thighs and spread my legs open. Oh fuck…
Hot oil hit me first, then the gentle glide of his palm grinding on my curls in long, slow strokes.
I lifted my hips to meet his touch, but he pushed me back down and kept rubbing it in while he watched me squirm.
“Jamie,” I pleaded.
That’s all it took before he gave me what I wanted.
Dipping down, he spread my clit lips and dragged his tongue all over my oiled skin. It was amazing.
In two long drags, he had me panting, then when he slipped two, then three fingers inside me, I came so hard that I swear I broke one of his fingers with how hard my vag squeezed.
“Fuck!” I practically shouted.
He shushed me, but kept stroking until I was jerking into a second, less intense orgasm.
“I want you inside me,” I told him, not even bothering to wonder where the odd confidence came from.
It wasn’t like that was how I normally was. Something about him made me break out of my molds, which was wonderful and terrifying at the same time.
“I don’t have a condom,” he said, sounding amused. “Not like I was planning this when I came in to work today.”
Touché.
“Fine, but I want to see you come,” I said instead.
He got back on the table, slipping between my legs and pushing them further open with his knees.
“Hold your tits together,” he managed, panting, too.
I looked down, following the thin trail of hair on his chest to the long, ridgid cock that was pointing right at my face.
I gripped him, taking a feel of his velvety steel before I did what he asked and pushed my boobs together.
Jamie braced himself on the table, then straddled my waist before shoving himself between my boobs, taking advantage of the small space between them.
He grunted in approval, closing his eyes as the first stroke turned into the second, then the third, then the tenth.
While his eyes were shut, I thought I would get him back a little, so I lowered my head and stuck out my tongue. When he shoved forward again, I got a good lick of the salty, oil-glistening head of his cock. The man practically jumped at the feeling.
“Holy fuck,” he panted. “Do that again.”
I did.
Even better, I managed to get the entire tip of him in my mouth with some impressive contorting, so when he came in several spurts of sticky cum, I caught it so we wouldn’t make a mess.
Oh God...they were going to know. They were going to know that Jamie just fucked one of his clients.
“Dammit, I wish I had a rubber,” he whispered before taking a long, deep kiss from my lips.
It tasted like a mix of him and me.
“Maybe next time,” I said, which made him grin. “If I ever come back to Hawaii, I’ll look you up again.”
His smile drooped, but he forced it back onto his face while he got off of me.
“Good,” he said, then went to his clothes to pull them back on again.
What did I do?
“Aw, shit,” I heard Jamie say from the countertop. “Got another appointment in five.”
Shit indeed.
I sat up, feeling like a strange version of both tense and loose, each from the massage, and the unknown that came after I left that room.
Nothing. That’s what would come.
“I’ll miss this,” I said, and it was true.
Maybe I had to find a massage therapist back in LA. You know, because I had so much money laying around to spend on a masseuse.
“It has its own sort of addicting quality, doesn’t it?” he said, washing his hands before slipping his shoes back on.
“You do,” I agreed, which had him lifting his head to meet my eyes across the room.
“When do you go home?” he asked.
“Tomorrow. Flight is first thing in the morning.”
His hope fell at that.
“I’ve got a thing tonight that I can’t reschedule or miss, unfortunately.”
That kind of sucked. I would have loved seeing him again before going home.
He took several steps toward me again and slid his palm over my cheek before dipping to press his lips against mine.
“Will you give me your phone number, then?”
Did I want to keep talking with him even though there was no hope of anything in the f
uture?
“Got a pen?”
He plucked a pen from the counter and handed it over.
I crooked my finger and he took one, then two steps toward me, framing my hips on the table while I sat there, naked as the day I was born.
His brutally handsome face was inches from mine, and all I could do was kiss his lips, then press my hand to his face until he was standing straight and chuckling. I pulled up the hem of his scrubs and wrote my phone number on each little ridge of his abs.
“This is sexy as hell, but how am I supposed to read this?” he asked, thumb dragging over my bottom lip.
“If you want it bad enough, you’ll figure it out,” I told him, biting down on the tip of his finger before dropping his shirt again and pressing my feet down to the floor.
I moved around him and went for the sheet, still laying on the floor where it had landed.
I wrapped it around myself and looked over my shoulder at him.
The chances of seeing him again were slim to none, and he knew that, too.
We didn’t even say anything. The two of us just looked at each other for a second, then we just sort of...drifted. No goodbye, no farewell, and he just turned and left, closing the door behind him with nothing but a whisper of a clink from the knob.
I exhaled, like all the air was sucked out of the room and left with him.
I didn’t even remember putting my clothes on. My brain was whirling as I left, ignoring the irritating receptionist on my way out.
When I got back to the suite, I walked in the door and saw Hunter standing there, hair still damp and shirt still missing, as usual. He was leaning against the huge glass windows that made up the far wall, hands crossed over his suntanned chest.
“You’re positively glowing,” he said evenly.
“Massages will do that to you,” I countered.
“Seeing that masseuse again?”
“Is it your business?”
“Not really,” he said with a shrug of his shoulder. “I’m still gonna ask.”
Of course he would.
I just went to the kitchen to try and busy my hands so they wouldn’t shake.
I had Jamie’s scent all over me and the taste of him lingered in my mouth, but my heart was still speeding up just being in the same fucking room with Hunter.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.
Hunter followed leisurely, plopping his ass on a stool across from me at the counter.
A smirk tilted one side of his lips, but he didn’t look amused at all.
“Must be good cock if you won’t even talk about it,” he offered.
I scoffed.
“The world is not all about cock and fucking, you know that?” I demanded, feeling anger rise in my chest. “I can go have a massage by a friend and not have to have sex with him.”
An eyebrow rose as he looked at my face, then he laughed.
“You’re such a fucking liar.”
A blush bloomed across my face and I whipped around, trying to hide it in the fridge as I dug around for something to retrieve.
“You’re one to judge,” I finally spat, slapping some lunch meat on the countertop, along with a half-eaten loaf of bread that was in the refrigerator for some reason.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed. “I’m not having any sexy flings in Hawaii.”
“Who’s the liar now?” I demanded.
He looked confused.
To hell with it. I was going to give myself away, but I wasn’t going to take his teasing while he was just as guilty.
“Let me jog your memory,” I chirped. “Think about a wall of dumpsters and a moaning bitch in a itsy bitsy polka dot bikini.”
I ground my pelvis against the counter and threw my head back with a series of moans.
A grin lit Hunter’s face, which really pissed me off.
“Was someone spying on me?” he sang, looking way too amused.
“I’m just saying I’m not the only one fucking people on vacation.”
His grin dimmed and he looked more serious.
“I didn’t fuck anyone. Not that it’s any of your business. But I brought it up, so whatevs. Just make sure you wrap it up, huh?”
His amusement vanished and his face looked glum in a matter of seconds as he stood and walked back toward the bedrooms.
“You didn’t?” I asked.
Well color me purple and spank my ass red, he didn’t fuck her?
All of a sudden my moment with Jamie in the massage room felt dirty and wrong.
It wasn’t, but that’s what it felt like.
“Nope,” he said with a fling of his arm, then disappeared into his bedroom, closing the door a little too hard.
Well shit.
Was there more blooming between us and I’d just messed it all up?
My eyebrows stitched together as I thought about it.
But no. If he wanted me, he wouldn’t have been sucking on the neck of some random chick behind some restaurant. His reaction didn’t make sense to me, but then again, when did anything Hunter did make sense to me?
Slapping a couple slices of turkey on my cold bread, I threw the packages back into the fridge then sat on the couch near where Hunter had been standing earlier. There were little streaks where his skin had left a print, and that made me smile, but I choked it all off.
No good feelings, because good feelings for him always broke my heart. The niceties we’d had the last couple days had almost led me to get it broken again, and I had to brutally choke it off, or I would be the one starving for air again.
After one bite of my bland sandwich, I looked toward the ceiling and realized that I was totally and completely fucked.
- 23 -
Hunter
Eight Years Ago
Dad was gone when I was getting ready for school. Mom had made breakfast and I was just pulling on my backpack when she started pushing me out the door so I didn’t miss the bus.
I was actually excited to see Ivy again. We’d gone all weekend without seeing each other, which was really fucking weird, to be honest. Usually we spent the time together, but her dad had a rare weekend off, so she spent it with him. I spent mine trying to avoid Dad and keep an eye out for Mom at the same time.
So basically, it was spectacular.
I could still taste her strawberry lips on mine, and I’d been craving them ever since I had to watch her run away from me.
“Hey!” Ivy called when I got on the bus.
Mom was certainly right when she practically shoved me out the door earlier. I got to the bus just as they were about to leave, and missing it meant I would have had to walk since we didn’t have two cars.
I grinned at Ivy, my heart thumping away in nervousness.
What should I say?
What should I do?
There were no training programs on what to do when your first crush and childhood best friend returned your affection.
I had two choices, as I saw it. We could pretend like it never happened and go back to the way things had always been, or I could grow a pair and go for it, kissing her again to cement the fact that I wanted to be more than just friends. I’d just have to hope she wanted that, too.
Pausing in front of the front doors to school, I turned to Ivy, who stopped and turned, too. Gathering every shred of confidence I could muster, I closed my eyes and fucking went for it. My lips made contact, but not on her mouth. She’d turned her head a little and gave me her cheek.
What the hell did that mean?
“I gotta go,” she said, turning cherry red. “We’re going to be late for class.”
Oh God… I was going to throw up.
She wasn’t into me.
I’d read it all so wrong.
My face followed suit with the whole going cherry red thing, and I followed her into school, two steps behind.
She avoided me all day. Like, literally all day.
Ok, it was only lunch, but she’d avoided me all the way up
until the end of our fourth period.
I went looking for her, wanting to demand some answers, but as I turned the corner toward the cafeteria, I saw Ivy cornered by a couple older girls who were grinning mischievously.
I started stomping through the crowd of kids to save her, but stopped dead in my tracks when I heard what they were saying.
“I saw him kiss you,” one of the girls said. “You two a couple or what?”
Ivy stammered, and the other girl leaned in.
“He a good kisser? He’s the cutest boy in school. He must be a good kisser.”
“Huh? No!”
“No what?” the first girl demanded.
“He’s not a...good kisser.”
The girls frowned, just like I did.
Was that why she wouldn’t let me kiss her again? Did my breath stink or something?
But, didn't she say she liked my kisses?
“So, you’re not a couple, then?” the second asked.
Ivy swung her head back and forth in voracious denial.
“I wouldn’t ever want to be his girlfriend,” she said. “He’s just convenient to have around, you know?”
My throat seized up as I stared at the girl who had been my best friend for years.
Convenient? I was convenient?
My heart was thumping again, but not because I was excited. No, this was fear and a sad attempt at trying to beat while it was falling apart to pieces in my chest.
“That’s good,” the second girl said, backing up a step from her. “He’s way too good for you, anyway. It’s only a matter of time before he moves on from your skinny ass.”
Half of me was viciously angry at the insult tossed so flippantly to the girl I loved, but the other part of me hurt so Goddamn much that I didn’t even care.
That part won out in me when I turned on my heel and stalked away.
Convenient, huh?
She’d see just how fucking convenient I really was.
- 24 -
Hunter
Those words from years ago were still banging around in my head.
Convenient.
There I was, being convenient again.
I’d saved her life, and she went and fucked some other dude that did nothing but rub her shoulders a little bit.
