“It’s an occupational hazard. My last boss didn’t provide ergonomic seating. He didn’t provide any seating at all, actually.”
He stands and I nearly swallow my tongue when he comes around my desk. Before I can even ask what he’s doing, his hands are on my shoulders, big, warm, and ridiculously steady. My entire body freezes at first contact, but moments later, I melt right into the chair.
“Jesus,” I mutter before I can stop myself. “That feels incredible.”
He doesn’t say anything at first, just working his thumbs along the tight muscles at the base of my neck, all quiet focus and patient strength. Finally, when I’m half-convinced I’ve turned into a puddle of goo, he asks, “Better?”
A gurgle that definitely doesn’t count as an answer escapes me, but Boone seems to understand. He chuckles, the sound a little rougher than normal. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Heat crawls up my neck and I curse the fact that I’m blushing like a teenager.Focus, Roxie. You’re supposed to be hiding, not flirting.But damn if this mountain isn’t full of temptation that smells good and looks better.
A knock on the doorframe makes me jump. Boone’s hands still for a beat, warm and heavy on my shoulders. Chance steps in, holding a mug of something with steam curling up from the surface.
“Cocoa,” he explains as he walks in. “I thought you might be able to use something sweet after spending a few hours with Boone.”
If I hadn’t already been melting, I sure would be now. All my life, no one has ever brought hot cocoa just because, and especially not one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen.
As I am beginning to realize is normal for him, he wears light gray sweats that barely cling to his hips. His feet are bare. A fitted black T-shirt covers a torso I haven’t seen but assume is as ripped as the rest of him.
Even with an actual job, the guy works out like he’s getting paid for it and it shows. His tall frame is hard and steeped in purpose, his dark blonde hair kept short enough not to get in his way, but still long enough on top for a girl to grab onto.
As if he hears the thought, those full, male-model-esque lips curve into a slight smirk, his hazel eyes lighting up. Everything about him screams military, from his posture to the way he moves to those eyes that always seem to be scanning. Assessing.
“What’s going on here?” he asks mildly, those eyes skipping past Boone’s hands on my shoulders and coming to rest on mine. That amused twinkle is still in them when he hands over the cocoa. “It looks like I’m missing a good time.”
“The best,” I murmur, taking it from him and nearly groaning out loud at the rich scent of chocolate I draw in on my next breath. “Thanks for this. It smells amazing.”
“Secret recipe.” He winks, watching as I bring the mug to my lips and take my first sip of heaven.
A smile that makes my stomach flip spreads across his face at whatever look I’m wearing. “That good, huh?”
“Unfairly amazing,” I say. “It’s like an orgasm in a cup.”
Instantly, my cheeks flame and my eyes drop to the rippling surface of the cocoa. Oh, God. Why was I born without a filter?
Boone’s thumbs start up again as if I haven’t just put my foot in my mouth. He sweeps another firm stroke across my neck, finding a spot that makes every muscle go liquid. I’m pretty sure I groan under my breath.
When I hear a chuckle, I glance up and realize Chance heard me. Either that, or he’s just laughing at my social ineptitude. “Relax, it’s fine. It’s a compliment.”
His gaze flicks to Boone’s hands, then back to my eyes. Without another word, he drops into an effortless crouch in front of me, his movements calm and deliberate.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my breath hitching a little at the sight of him at my feet.
“Helping,” he says simply.
Before I can protest, he tugs lightly at the heel of one shoe, then the other. My toes flex in relief when they hit the soft rug, but the next thing I know, his hands are circling my arches, slow and sure, his thumbs pressing into places I didn’t even know I had.
“Oh, my God,” I say, my head tipping back. “You guys are going to ruin me for actual spas.”
Boone laughs behind me. “That’s the goal.”
The air in the room changes as they keep working on me, becoming heavier somehow. Not threatening, not even overtly suggestive. Just charged.
For a girl who’s spent the last few days running for her life, this feels incredible. Sitting here with two dangerously attractive men trying to fix my knots and stroke away my stress sure as hell beats slinging drinks for mobsters.
The only drawback is that having both of their hands on me stirs memories of those idle fantasies I’ve had of being sandwiched between them. I can feel my panties getting damp and my nipples tightening.
The sound of heavy boots on hardwood makes me open my eyes. Dillon strolls into the office, and for a second, I am mortified, afraid of how he might react to what he’s just walked in on. These are my new bosses, and here I am, sitting like a queen being tended to by her harem. All that’s missing is someone feeding me grapes and waving a palm leaf.
