She lifts her head, eyes fluttering open. “You’re going to do my front?”
I bend down to kiss her. “That’s the best part.”
She rolls over and I’m instantly fully hard again. “Maybe we can skip the rest of the massage.”
“Hell, no.”
Her laughter is a light melody.
I shed my robe and join her on the bed. I pick up the massage bar and drag it down her chest, between her breasts, and over her stomach, then back up and across her sweet tits. I get them all slicked up and then toss the bar aside and lean over to lick her there.
“Ohhhhh…” She lets out a soft sigh. “Does that taste good?”
“Yeah. But you taste better.” I lick over a nipple, play with it with my tongue, then pull it between my lips. I love how she responds. “Don’t even move,” I murmur to her. “Just let me play with you.”
21
NIKKI
Just let me play with you.
His words are erotic and also heart-melting.
With the fatigue of our hike, the wine, the warmth of the bath, and the sensuousness of the massage, I feel like I’m floating. After all the physical activity today, it feels so good to just let go, to let my head empty. To let Marek take over. I want to watch him because he’s beautiful, but my eyes drift closed as I fall into sensation, and as I give myself over to it, I begin to drift on a dark, erotic cloud.
Floating, unaware of anything but my own body and Marek’s hands and mouth and the sensations he’s causing, I let out soft little noises of pleasure. Nothing else exists, just this moment, just these feelings and the knowledge that Marek knows how to make me feel so good.
I get lost in it, in the sensations flowing over and through my body, his fingers starting a buzzing inside me, low in my belly, igniting every nerve ending and intensifying into a bonfire flaring inside me.
He takes me up, higher, so high, to an exquisite sharp peak of pleasure-pain. Then he pulls back, kisses my mouth and licks my throat. I gasp for air. “Keep going,” I beg, and he chuckles.
He moves over me and sinks into me, one achingly sweet thrust after another, sensation building and building. Pleasure expands inside me and he takes me up again, flying into a bright, piercing, almost unbearable bliss.
He groans into my ear as I slowly float back to earth.
This man. I fell for him that night in Vegas, so fiercely, so fast. I never really got over him. But now… I can’t do that again. Not now. Maybe not ever.
* * *
The next morning, we go to a yoga class. Marek surprises me by telling me that he’s done yoga before; for a while the team had a yoga instructor who worked with them before practices. I’ve been to yoga classes, too, although not for a long time. But we easily follow the instructor through the different poses, and I’m surprised at how good I feel after. Doing something physical and being mindful seems to be a positive thing. I didn’t even realize how much tension I was holding in my body until last night when I was so tired from our hike and stressed about the snow and then soaked in a hot bath, had an even hotter massage, and then world-altering sex. The incredible relaxation afterward was almost shocking, and now after yoga class I feel it again.
Marek has to get something from his car, so I go back to the cottage by myself and make another cup of coffee. I sit at the dining table with my mug and a blueberry muffin.
When Marek returns, I choke on my muffin at seeing him. “What is that?”
“You know what it is, Nikki.” He sets the guitar case on the table.
Yes. I do. That was a stupid question. But I’m a little stupefied. “Why did you do this?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I think music would be good for you. I haven’t heard you sing at all.”
I stare at the case. He’s correct. I haven’t sung since the concert hall roof collapsed. That’s probably the longest period of time in my life I’ve gone without singing. What’s the point?
I stand up and bolt to the bedroom.
“Nikki.”
I ignore Marek and close the door behind me then sit on the bed, fingers twisting together. I don’t even know what I’m feeling. It could be panic. I also think I’m angry. Marek shouldn’t have done that!
