Marley nodded. “Probably did too much today.” The sharp pain went through her again. She was only on Tylenol today—the nurse had warned her not to take more of the heavy painkillers than she needed so she wouldn’t get dependent on them.
“I was in agony every day when I first started training with Reggie,” Nikhil said. “He wouldn’t let me take painkillers, because he’s a cruel, sadistic bastard. I quickly discovered that the best way to distract myself is to feel pleasure in another part of my body.”
His talking about pleasure wasn’t really helping her inability to get sex with the man out of her head. She narrowed her eyes. “Is this story going to end up in one of thoseCosmocelebrity-sex confession pieces?”
He laughed. “Miss Mahreen Kamal, get your mind out of the gutter. Notthatkind of pleasure.” He shuddered. “Thinking about sex and Reggie… no.”
Another wave of pain, this one sharper than the last, went through her. Marley closed her eyes and put her head back. She started counting under her breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” she managed to say.
“I don’t think you are. Is it the same pain?”
Yes, it was the same pain. The same goddamn pain, all day. Her face twisted. It was all too much. A few hours of work and she couldn’t even think straight. She hated her stupid defective gene with a passion. It just wasn’t fair.
What would be happening in Marley’s life if she’d inherited her father’s working gene instead of her mother’s broken one? Would she be doing these fittings with Nikhil in the store instead of in her living room? Would Erin be so impressed that she would insist that Marley transfer full-time to personal shopping?
What would her life be like if none of the women in it had this mutation?
A hand was suddenly on her face, wiping her tears. She sighed. She’d had no idea she was even crying again. She was worried that having a massive crush on a client was unprofessional—well, bursting into tears every thirty seconds with him couldn’t be good, either. Apparently, all her emotional regulation had been in her breasts.
The hand that was on her cheeks moved to her forearms, stroking and rubbing them softly. “Can I show you how Reggie helped me?”
Marley chuckled, still not opening her eyes. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the pain-relieving methods of a sadistic physical trainer. But she trusted Nikhil. She nodded.
After guiding her up from the recliner to the sofa, he crouched on the floor in front of her and took one of her hands in his.
The light strokes on her hand turned into a full-on massage. He pulled on her fingers. Rubbed the soft tissue between them. This massage was… intense. Not sensual but focused. He seemed to be trying to hit specific pressure points. The touch of his hands on hers was making all the muscles in herbody relax. The pain wasn’t exactly leaving—he wasn’t that good—but this was helping. A lot.
He talked while he massaged. “I once dated someone who was into healing touch. She took this woo-woo stuff way too far, but the constant back rubs were nice.” He moved on to Marley’s forearm.
“This is heaven.”
He told her about this sports massage guy that Reggie had brought in for him early into training.
“They don’t do anything like that for me anymore,” he said. “The honeymoon period is over. Now it’s just abuse with no cycle of love bombing.”
When he reached the part of her arm where the sleeve of her shirt started, he paused. To be honest, it would feel pretty good to have his hands on her upper arms and shoulders right now. She wasn’t really a prude, and he’d seen her completely naked only a week ago.
“Um… it’s not pretty,” she said. The last time he’d seen her bra it was a lace La Perla. Now it was an enormous, tight white surgical bra with a long row of hooks up the front and wide straps. Plus, there were still drain tubes coming out of her armpits.
He chuckled softly. “Okay, but you’re Marley Kamal—I’m not sure it’s possible for you to be not pretty. I don’t care what it looks like. I want you to feel better.”
She sighed. She also wanted to feel better than she did right now. She let him undo the buttons down the front of her mastectomy shirt, then the snaps on the sleeves. It was slightly… humiliating. She chuckled nervously.
“I wish more women would wear tear-away clothes,” he said. “So convenient! Would recommend!”
He didn’t say anything as he continued the massage, probably realizing that Marley wasn’t really listening. She was feeling too… good. Relaxed. After working her shoulders and her neck, he finally leaned her head forward to massage her scalp. Marley said a silent thank-you that Reena had washed her hair in the sink the day before, because this washeaven. It reminded her of when her mother used to rub coconut oil into her scalp as a kid, a soothing ritual that made her feel protected and loved.
After a while, Marley felt him lean down and kiss her forehead. He smelled like that soap he used, plus… like him. “You’re falling asleep. Want me to help you upstairs?”
She nodded. She didn’t want him to stop touching her, but she wanted to sleep, too. He helped her up the stairs, and even helped her empty her drain bulbs. After fluffing up her pillows, Marley got into bed while Nikhil filled her water glass and took two painkillers out for her to take in the morning.
“Thank you,” she said once she was settled on her nest of pillows. Nikhil pulled up her white duvet to cover her.
He smiled. “Anytime. Good night, Marley.” He flicked off the light in her room as he left.
