Gavin made a derisive snort through the hole of the padded face rest. "It was such a baby throw, and I held you up the entire time. I basically just turned you upside down."
"Whatever," she mumbled to herself. "And besides you're too…hard." She felt his shoulder tense beneath her hands and quickly corrected herself. She could just imagine his grin. "Too hard to massage! Massaging you is tiring. I'm sweating just trying."
Beneath her his body relaxed and he let out a deep groan that vibrated her whole body. "It feels good to me."
Scooting back until she was sitting on his ass she ran her hands down the V shape of his back. "You need another guy to do this. They would be able to get deeper."
"I prefer not to have another man's balls on my back," he said dryly.
Ebony laughed and pushed back her hair over one shoulder and she leaned into her work. "They wouldn’t have to climb on top of you."
Gavin's shoulder flexed as he adjusted on the table. "I much prefer this. Besides I will do you later."
Sure. She's heard that before. "You always say that but never do."
Her phone buzzed beside her thigh. She reached for it, thumb swiping lazily at the screen. She expected the message to be from Jade or Taylor or maybe even her friend Beryl.
Unknown Number:You shouldn’t wear those skirts. It drives me crazy.
The air shifted. Or maybe it was her heartbeat, stuttering in her chest.
Slowly, her gaze slid to Gavin. He hadn’t moved. His phone sat facedown on the shelf across theroom—untouched.
"Less texting, more hands," Gavin grumbled beneath her like an angry bear rug.
"Fine, fine." Still frowning, she put her phone away. Maybe it was a wrong number…but she had been wearing a skirt today.
"Are you going to tell me why you were late? Were you hanging out with that hooligan, Beryl?" Gavin's question interrupted her thoughts.
Ebony smirked. Beryl was a recent friend. A year older than her, Beryl had graduated last year. When she was in school their paths never seemed to cross much. They both moved in their own different worlds. That was until Ebony got a flat last year and pulled into the local garage to find a girl with purple hair working on cars. The friendship was immediate, much to Gavin's irritation. While Ebony enjoyed Beryl's abrasiveness and tell-it-like-it-is personality, it was like oil on a flame when it came to Gavin. Wondering who Beryl was of course he insisted on meeting her. They bickered instantly.
"No, I wasn’t. I was in a meeting with some of the faculty and then I caught Cameron at swim practice and talked to him for a bit," she explained.
His body went rigid beneath her.
"Does that satisfy your curiosity?"
"No, it does not." He shifted beneath her, forcing her to get off him. Without another word, he stood and stretched, his joints popping in a slow cascade. When he finally looked at her, his ice-blue eyes were set, clear, sharp, unreadable.
"Go shower. Take your pill. The storm will be here in an hour. Meet me in my room."
She wanted to say there was no need. But she would just be lying. Even though she’d long moved past the old memory of the man in her room, storms still made her anxious. Knowing it would be pointless to argue, she went and did as she was told.
Rain was pelting the glass of her room by the time she walked across the hall into Gavin's room. Sitting at his desk, Gavin was staring daggers at his phone while Duke lay on his back at his feet. Absently, Gavin’s toes stroked the dog's pink tummy.
She came in and sat on the edge of his bed. "What's wrong?"
For a split second his expression remained unforgiving as he looked at her, before softening into a smirk. Tossing his phone onto the desk, he stood up and rubbed his hands together. "Are you ready for this Midas touch?"
Ebony laughed — she could already feel the tiring effects of her sleeping pill. Scooting back on the bed she turned over onto her stomach. Wearing a simple white pajama set, shorts and a tank, Ebony rested her cheek against the soft comforter, feeling the bed dip beside her on the left.
She could feel him above her but he wasn’t moving. Her brows furrowed and she was prepared to turn over and look at him when she felt his hands on the straps of her top.
His fingers brushed her skin, they were so warm it made her skin prickle with goosebumps, before they slid under the thin straps of her tank top. Slow. Achingly slow. He pulled them down over her shoulders, the fabric gliding down her arms until it pooled at her waist. She tensed, breath hitching, but didn’t say anything.
Then came the clasp of her bra. She wasn’t sure why she wore it in here but it seemed wrong not to wear one. A soft snap, barely audible over the sound of her heartbeat thrumming in her ears, pulled her attention back to the moment. The bra loosened and fell away. Gavin still didn’t say a word.
For a second there was no movement, nothing at all. Just the cool air on her exposed skin. Suddenly his hands were on her skin. Slick with oil, her favorite, a vanilla and valerian one that always lulled her to sleep, his hands ran down the curve of her spine.
