“No.” I groaned. “We just met, actually.”
“He’s trying to resist me,” Doris-Delores added gleefully. “He’s thrilled that another man is touching me so he doesn’t have to.”
The dude massaging her chuckled, as did the woman working on me.
“I see,” my massage therapist said. “Interesting dynamic.”
With every stroke of the guy’s hands on her skin, I felt more territorial. And even though it sounded fucking obsessive, ifIcouldn’t touch her, I didn’t want anyone to. Not even like this.
It didn’t help that the guy was tall and pretty good-looking. He was also closer to her age.
Fuck.
She closed her eyes, seeming to really enjoy her massage. That was the point of this, wasn’t it? Except I was too busy monitoring what was happening to the right of me.
She moaned, and I felt it in my dick. She opened her eyes and promptly caught me looking at her. She flashed an impish grin, proving once again how much she enjoyed torturing me.
When he moved to work lower on her back, I gulped. Her skin looked so damn smooth. My hands ached to touch her like that. He applied pressure, circling his thumbs against her spine as I continued to watch like a hawk. I couldn’t help myself. I was just as transfixed as I was on alert.
After the torture session, er, massage, was finally over, we exited the spa together.
She let out a long breath. “That was so relaxing.”
“I’m glad it was relaxing for you.” I groaned.
She blinked innocently. “You didn’t find it relaxing?”
“No, I didn’t find having to lie there for an hour while some guy got to rub his hands down every inch of your body relaxing.”
“You could’ve stopped it at any time.”
“Really?” I cocked my head. “And how exactly would I have done that?”
“You could’ve admitted that you wished you were the one touching me. I would’ve ended it early to put you out of your misery.”
I gritted my teeth. “It wasn’t just that. I didn’t like watching someone else take advantage of you. No way a guy in that job doesn’t get some gratification out of a client like you.”
She shrugged. “He seemed pretty professional to me.”
“On the outside, sure…” I huffed.
“What other way is there?”
“You don’t know what he was thinking.” I shook my head. “Men are... We’re fucking pigs, okay?”
“Maybe you should speak for yourself, Tate.”
“Iamspeaking for myself. I include me in that comment.”
“Well, I was pretending it wasyoutouching me. So, oink-oink.”
Fuck. I shook my head and spoke up at the sky. “You’re trouble.”
“You’re just figuring this out?”
“I’m not letting you choose the next thing we do.”
She waved dismissively. “It’s your turn anyway.”
