Sweet Seduction

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Sweet Seduction Page 132

by Anthology


  My mouth fell open, a bit. “I… really?” I didn’t want to sound stupid, but I was completely, unexpectedly surprised. Why, I wasn’t sure, not when he’d spent so much money and done such extravagant things for me before, but this was… just so sweet.

  “I… why?” I swallowed thickly, an unexpected wave of emotion rising inside of me. He grinned again, and it caused a little pinch, low in my belly. Man, but I loved that smile.

  “You’re always super sore after your first day on the hill. And you deserve it.” He twisted his arms back behind his head after setting his book down on the quit beside him. This caused his not too shabby biceps to flex a little, and I saw out of the corner of my eye that Miss Masseuse noticed. A ribbon of white hot jealousy twisted inside of me, taking me completely aback. This was Jake. Jake, who could have pretty much any woman in the world. I had no business being jealous.

  Belatedly, I realized that I was just standing frozen in the doorway, head cocked to the side as I considered.

  “Now do you think you could let her in?” Jake was smirking. Normally this would have been cause for me to flip him off, but somehow, this sweet and completely unexpected gesture had made me… well, melt a bit inside. Not a gooey kind of girl, I still just could have kissed him for this.

  Figuratively speaking, of course.

  “Oh, right.” Sheepish, I propped the door open wider, long enough for her to catch it, then turned back to Jake, a bit overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to say, so I said the only thing that popped into my head. “Dude.”

  He laughed then, that warm, from-the-gut laugh I’d first heard seven years earlier, when I was a freshman and he was a junior. Grabbing his phone again, he waved it in my direction.

  “I’ll just work while you get your rubdown. Okay?”

  “Okay?” I grinned, thrilled now that the misunderstanding had cleared and I was left with my treat. “It’s great. Thank you. Seriously.”

  He waved his phone at me again before delving back into the pages. I turned my attention back to the masseuse who, though rail thin, had hauled in and set up a portable massage table like it was nothing. Her arms were seriously toned, making me wince about the way a single day of skiing had reduced me to a mass of pain.

  She smiled at me, pale gold hair brushing her shoulders as she tucked a pristine white sheet over the mattress. “I’m Marcie.” She tucked a strand of that silky hair behind an ear before offering me a hand. “I assume your boyfriend will be watching?”

  What?

  “Uh, not my boyfriend.” I cast a glance at Jake, but he didn’t seem to be paying any attention. His fingers were already tapping over his phone. Probably just brokering some multi-million dollar deal. No biggie.

  “Oh.” Marcie frowned a bit, pursed her lips. “Will you still be okay with the massage being here, then? I need you mostly naked. I really can’t work as well with clothing as a barrier.”

  “Um...” I cast another furtive look at Jake. As I’d expected, the word naked had caught his attention and he was staring at us expectantly.

  I stuck my tongue out at him. “Pervert.”

  “You know it.” He grinned back, then shrugged. “And you know, I’ve seen boobs before.”

  Normally, this would have just made me grin—I was certainly not a virgin, myself. Jake and I had never been together, that way—we’d just never thought of each other like that, no matter how many significant others we each seemed to go through.

  Still, something in his simple comment stung in a way it never had before.

  The billionaire is not for you, I reminded myself. Jake was my best and oldest friend, to be sure. But I would hate the herd of paparazzi that followed him everywhere, hate the media frenzy that erupted every time he was spotted in public with a new woman. I would hate pretty much everything about his lifestyle, actually—I’d always been more of a chicken wings and beer kind of girl, hold the caviar and Dom Perignon.

  I told myself to get over it. He was most certainly not experiencing these same strange surges of emotion. To him, I was just Liz, his buddy.

  Not his type. Not his type at all.

  “It’s fine.” Turning, I smiled at the massage therapist. Marcie nodded and looked at me expectantly, and I realized that I was supposed to strip, like, now.

  “Sorry.” Awkwardly, feeling exposed, I tugged at the top half of my long underwear. It caught on my ponytail as I yanked it over my head.

  I could have sworn I felt Jake’s eyes boring into my naked back, but when I shifted, started to pull down my matching fleecy bottoms, I saw that he was focused entirely on his work. This caused a streak of annoyance to stab me in the tender part of my gut. Yes, we were just friends, but I was a woman, and I was getting naked. Jake loved naked women, almost more than he loved his mother.

  Um, hello?

  Unruffled by the lips I’d pursed in irritation, Marcie patted the massage table. “You can leave your panties on, or remove them, whatever you prefer. I can work with either.” I pondered it for about a millisecond and opted for on. I’d had massages before and I’d stripped right down without a qualm—I figured they had to have seen worse than me, after all, and thanks to my love of yoga, I was in decent shape. But I just wasn’t comfortable being completely naked in the same room as Jake.

  The thought made me flush all over. Not to mention twitch.

  Slowly I removed my sports bra, the last article of clothing on my body, save my pale blue bikini briefs. I thought I saw Marcie’s eyes flicker over my breasts, which puckered at the chilly kiss of the air, but the look was so quick, I was sure I’d imagined it.

  “Come on up.” She lifted another snowy sheet into her arms, and I hastily arranged myself face down on the table.

  The head of the table was on the side of the room where Jake reclined. I wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not. At least he wouldn’t be staring at some other woman rubbing my butt, I guessed.

  “Just close your eyes and relax.” Marcie’s soft voice was awfully soothing. I squeezed my lids shut to accomplish the first, but wasn’t sure I’d be able to manage the second. I’d never been very good at ‘chilling out’. Instead, every time I slowed down at all from the normally brisk pace of my life, I fell fast asleep.

  But this was nice, and I felt a hint of tension leave my shoulders as I tucked my arms into my sides and rolled my neck, finding a comfortable spot to rest my head.

  A sweet smell tickled the insides of my nose, and I breathed in deeply.

  “What is that?” I sucked in some more air; whatever it was, it was great. With my eyes closed, my sense of smell seemed sharper, and the scent snuck its way in, worming little fingers into the nerve centres of my mind.

  Relaxing me.

  A scratch and a hiss. Another sugar coated scent. My hearing was more acute with my eyes closed, too, and I listened to Marcie’s body whisper against the sheets as she moved.

  “Scented candles.” She moved farther away, then back. There was a gurgling, that of a liquid, that I couldn’t identify. “Blood orange and pink grapefruit. I find that the element of fire, plus aromatherapy, helps to relax my clients more fully. Helps them benefit more fully from the massage.”

  Element of fire? Uh-huh. Sounded kind of hokey to me. But at that moment her fingers met the flesh of my upper back, and the combination of it all—the scented candles, the soft cotton sheets, the warm liquid oil that had caused the unidentified gurgle— it all combined, and everything outside my little bubble ceased to exist.

  Well, everything except for Jake.

  “Oooh.” I couldn’t help the moan. Marcie’s hands were wickedly strong, and as they began to press and probe at my sore, tender flesh, I melted, liquefying from the inside out.

  “Good, huh?” There was a smile in her voice. I heard that liquid noise again, followed by an exhalation of breath. Craning my neck a bit, I saw that she was blowing on the oil that was pooled into her cupped hands.

  She caught my glance, the corners of her lips
quirking up with amusement. “Cold oil tenses the muscles. And I want you to relax.” Her voice dropped on the last word, almost a caress, and she tipped her cupped palm at the same time.

  The oil spilled, a champagne drizzle, and I hissed as it hit my skin. I expected a slap of cold, despite her assurances, but as she’d promised, the slick citrus pool was warm. It flowed over my skin, a crystal river over winter white, and it felt damned good.

  I sighed again at the sensation. As I did, I let my eyes slit open, just a crack. Knowing Jake as I did, I was sure that he’d have his eyes glued over here, never mind the fact that we were just friends. The dude loved women, and I fully expected some lame ass jokes about Marcie and I getting friendly while he watched.

  Nothing. Those must have been some damn riveting business e-mails. They better have been, or the inexplicable flicker of annoyance that was spurting to life in my gut just might spark into a fully-fledged flame.

  Marcie pulled the sheet back, folded it down until it just barely covered my butt. Goosebumps rose in a wave over the naked skin of my back, my shoulders, my arms, but her talented hands quickly warmed the flesh, kneading and smoothing, over and over again.

  Another noise of contentment fell from my relaxation parted lips. As it did, I snuck another look in Jake’s direction.

  He was still looking at his fucking phone.

  I didn’t understand why this made me so upset. Jake was my buddy, my best friend. I’d never thought of him as anything else… but was I really that asexual to him? Was he not attracted to me at all?

  I was damn well attracted to him. The realization left me as stunned as a lightning bolt tearing through my flesh.

  Obviously, Jake was a handsome, handsome man. Over six feet tall, he spent long hours in the gym, and his body rivaled that of the dude who played Captain America. His hair was the color of rich caramel, and while most of the time, when we Face-Timed each other, it was impeccably coiffed, I liked it best as it was right now, messy after a day of hard physical exertion.

  What I loved most were his eyes. Not quite brown, and not quite grey, a woman could stare into them forever and not quite be able to identify the color.

  And… whoa. I needed to simmer down. This was Jake I was thinking about. Even if I’d admitted to myself that I found him attractive—well, so did the majority of the female population. I had no chance at ever being more than his friend.

  With most men I wouldn’t have cared. I’d never considered myself to be real hot stuff, but I was secure enough in my looks. I’d never be a model, but I didn’t want to be. My hair was thick, and its raven color was shiny. My eyes were a pretty shade of blue. I had boobs and hips, but I liked them, never really wanting to look like a supermodel. I was content in knowing that I could attract men.

  And why was I even thinking about this? I willed myself to relax, to breathe, to enjoy the hypnotic slip and slide of Marcie’s fingers over my oil slicked skin.

  But it mattered. I didn’t know why, but a desperate need for Jake to notice me, to see me that way, began to make its presence known.

  I wanted him to want me. Whether I wanted him back in that way, I wasn’t entirely sure, and that may have made my morality take a bit of a sketchy turn. But at the moment, with my muscles turning to pools of hot wax under a stranger’s fingers, and my emotions running wild due to my naked proximity to Jake, I didn’t care.

  JAKE

  I liked to think that all my ideas were good ones, but I was seriously starting to second-guess myself on this one.

  I might have told Liz that I was doing work on my phone, but in reality, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

  I’d never been able to. Not that the stubborn wench had ever noticed. And since she mattered in a way that no woman ever had before, I hadn’t made a move, terrified of losing her forever.

  What? Real men have feelings. Strong ones. We just don’t like anyone to know.

  I couldn’t keep from frowning at the massage table. Liz had stripped in front of me as though she didn’t have a care in the world, as though me seeing her naked didn’t affect her at all.

  The ferocity inside of me, that drive that had led me to build a multi-billionaire dollar empire out a small start-up tech company, took this as a challenge.

  I’d waited long enough. And that was what this trip as about—finally making a gesture to Liz. I was sick of the women who meant nothing, while the one I wanted remained frustratingly out of reach.

  But looking at her stretched out on that table, bare to the waist, her snow white skin glowing gold in the light of the candles that Marcie had lit…

  More than the feelings I’d had for her over the years… my lust was snapping at its chain. I wanted to make her notice me.

  Wanted to put marks on that flawless skin of hers. Wanted to claim her and make her mine.

  And that right there… that was part of why I’d held off making a move. If Liz knew what kind of kinks I was into… she’d either laugh at me, or run away screaming.

  As I watched, Marcie stroked her hands up over Liz’s back, circling back over her shoulder blades. Finding a knot in the muscle, she pressed hard.

  “Ow.” Liz hissed out a breath between her teeth. “Shit. That hurts.”

  “Want me to stop?” Marcie’s voice was low, soothing, her competent hands not slowing. Her eyes met mine overtop of Liz’s slim body, and she winked at the rapt attention that my friend couldn’t see.

  I grinned back. Marcie was my personal massage therapist from back home. I’d flown her out just for this, partly because she was the best and partly because the thought of some big Nordic giant named Sven with his hands on Liz’s body had a red haze of rage surging through me.

  Marcie had known me for years, and somewhere along the line I’d confessed my feelings for Liz to her. Knowing her, she would do her best to help facilitate.

  The thought had me rolling my eyes at myself. Though inside I still felt like the same old Jake that I’d always been, there was no doubt that immense wealth had completely changed my life.

  Most of the people in my social circle—other billionaires—would have laughed at the notion that I needed help with a woman. I’d dated an Oscar-winning actress. I’d spanked a German princess, had a threesome with two bisexual supermodels, and suspended the biggest pop star in the country from the ceiling with soft hemp rope. In short, I wasn’t lacking in women.

  But it wasn’t lost on me that, with Liz, I might actually need some help.

  “Oh, man. Ow.” Liz let out a little whine that made my cock surge from half-mast to painfully erect. My gaze sharpened, and I watched as she arched into Marcie’s strong touch.

  “Too much?” Marcie eased up on the pressure, and Liz moved with her hands.

  “No. Not at all.” As I watched, Liz’s pale as snow skin flushed a pretty shade of pink. The same color I’d always imagined it would turn if she was aroused. “I… this sounds so stupid.”

  “No negativity, hon. Just let it go.” Marcie murmured, still stroking.

  “It hurts. It really hurts.” Liz wiggled a bit on the massage table, and the sheet slipped down, revealing the top of her ass. I felt my body tighten with the need to lay my hands on those firm globes, to redden them with my palms, her punishment for making me wait so damn long.

  Then she spoke again, and her next words absolutely blew my mind. With them, she shattered one of my biggest reasons for staying away from her for so long—my belief that she was a vanilla girl, that she wouldn’t be into the kind of sexual play that was as natural to me as breathing.

  “It hurts. But I think… I think I like it.”

  LIZ

  I puzzled over my strange reaction to the pain that Marcie was afflicting on my tender muscles. When she had first dug her fingers into the knots in my back I’d felt the need to shy away… but then the stinging discomfort had blossomed from irritation to… well, to something else. Something that wasn’t entirely comfortable, to be honest.

  I w
anted to squirm with the dawning realization, and I found that I was hyper conscious of Jake, even though he was probably still buried in his work and not paying any attention to me at all.

  I could feel Marcie at the end of the massage table, by my feet. Face buried in my arms, I listened to the sounds as she squeezed more oil into her hands, blew on it, then drizzled it on my aching calves. Pressing hard with her thumbs, she began to work the day’s aches and pains out of my legs and feet.

  I didn’t have to fake those groans. Her touch felt amazing, even with—or maybe because of—the little lightning bolts of pain that accompanied it. As the sensation touch moved up my naked legs, however, it moved past amazing. Made its way on to... hmm. I wasn’t sure I wanted to put the word rioting around in my head to the sensation. Wasn’t entirely comfortable with what that entailed.

  But as Marcie’s fingers moved up, over my knees, to slide up my inner thighs, I couldn’t deny the tightening of my nipples, the sudden rush of blood to my skin.

  The faint dampness between my legs.

  Marcie continued to work the muscles of my thighs as I struggled, sensation warring against control. I’d never been turned on by either a woman or pain, never really had any thoughts in that direction. But whether it was because of Jake’s dominating presence in the room, or simply because the touch and the release of pain felt good, I couldn’t really get around the fact that it was a woman’s hands on me, and that I was getting pretty damned aroused.

  But it wasn’t the masseuse that was on my mind. No, my thoughts still lay in the direction of Jake. I wasn’t sure if these were new feelings or if I was just finally letting them surface, but either way…

  I wanted Jake to look at me that way.

  My pulse started to thunder in my chest as I contemplated making a move. Could I do it? Was I stupid for doing it? Was Jake going to reject me and I would ruin the best friendship I’d ever had?

  The electricity in the air told me he was worth the risk.

 

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