She started back into the bedroom, Cam and Sawyer following. Hutch was standing by the bed, and he motioned her over.
She gave the towel spread out over the bed a puzzled look as she walked toward Hutch’s outstretched arm.
“Take the towel off,” he murmured.
Her gaze flew to his, and she clutched her arms over the seam of the towel. His stare bored into her, peeling away that towel effortlessly. She felt naked, and she hadn’t even relinquished her hold on it.
“Just do it, Reggie,” he said patiently.
He was asking her to trust him. To believe that they wouldn’t push her to do anything she didn’t want. Why he wanted her naked, she wasn’t sure, but she would never give him the idea that she didn’t trust him. She did.
Slowly, she unwrapped the towel and let it pool at her feet. His gaze held steady with hers, never moving or falling to her body. The soft green of his eyes glowed in the light. Radiated a yearning for something that sex just didn’t cover.
“Lay down,” he said softly. “On your belly, but only if it doesn’t hurt your ribs.”
She put a knee on the bed and climbed up, crawling to the center of the towel. She eased down, testing her body for soreness as she settled into the soft mattress.
“Put your arms up, baby. Rest them on the pillow at your head.”
Her hands slid over the sheets until they collided with the plump pillows. The bed dipped, first on her left and then on her right and then again at her feet. She was too comfortable to lift her head to investigate.
Warm hands, slick with oil, glided over her skin, sending shivers up her spine to the nape of her neck. The tiny little hairs stood on end as goose bumps threaded their way through her scalp.
Loving, gentle, exquisitely tender, they stroked—petting, rubbing, massaging tired, sore muscles. She knew their touch, each individual, knew by thewaythey touched her.
Sawyer was to her left, his fingers firm, rubbing deeper, blatantly sensual as he skimmed across her back to the globes of her ass. He trailed a finger across the seam to the small of her back and down again. He palmed one cheek, massaging in a slow, circular motion before turning his attention to the other.
Cam was at her feet, attending each leg, kneading her calves, down to her ankles and ultimately to her feet. His touch was seeking, inquisitive, mellow, like him.
She moaned as he dug deep into the arch. He placed his palm against her heel and pressed his thumb into the center of her foot. She existed in a warm haze, a euphoric shimmer that clouded her eyes, blurring her vision.
Hutch was to her right, both hands settled on top of her shoulders, his thumbs pressed against the column of her neck. He worked his fingers higher, into her damp hair, digging into her scalp and working sheer magic.
At this rate she’d be comatose in five minutes.
Lips replaced hands, and a shudder rolled over her body. A gentle kiss to the nape of her neck. One at the back of her knee. One at the small of her back and then lower, just below the cheek of her ass.
Husky breaths blew over her between the featherlight kisses. A warm tongue pressed at the cleft just above her behind and trailed up her spine.
She shivered uncontrollably.
The mouth at her neck opened wider. Teeth grazed the sensitive skin below her ear. One nip. Two.
Lips closed over one small toe, sucking lightly, the tongue warm over her skin.
A ragged groan worked from the depths of her chest. It was the headiest, most pleasurable sensation she’d ever experienced. She felt loved. Cherished. Such simple, loving actions.
She was awash in need. Craving.
Once again their hands moved across her skin. Then they were gone. She whimpered in protest, and the bed moved, dipping and swaying beneath her.
“Turn over, honey,” Sawyer whispered in her ear.
She couldn’t muster the energy to move.
He tugged at her shoulder, helping her rotate. She saw Hutch holding a glass of water in one hand, and she knew what was coming.
“Take it,” Hutch urged.
