“Cela n’arrivera pas deux fois,” I tell her.It will not happen twice.
She strokes Lady Macbeth, her bright blue eyes on me knowingly. “Je regarde. Profite du massage, Moffy.”I’m watching. Enjoy the massage, Moffy.
I stay propped on my forearms and glance over my shoulder again. Standing, Farrow oils his palms, so damn confident. His smile stretches at the sight of me watching, his bottom lip piercing too hot.
Everything about Farrow is lightning cracking the night sky.
He lowers.
Fuck—here we go.
He rests his knee beside my waist, and the sole of his boot is on my other side. Straddling me without touching me. Not yet, at least.
“All the way down, Maximoff,” he says in that deep, gravel voice. “Arms flat by your sides.”
My pulse pounds in my neck. I tensely extend my arms by my waist. Which forces me to look away from Farrow. I’d rather hide my face, so I put my forehead on the decorative pillow. Concealed, but also staring atnothing.
“Don’t kill me,” I snap.
He leans forward, his lips near my ear. “Hurting you is the antithesis of my job description.”
Right.
“Trust me,” he breathes. “Relax.” The silky part of his voice soothes me from head-to-toe like stepping into a steaming sauna.
Fuck.
Me.
My normally bound shoulders want to unlock, and I force my arms to stay still and not bring them to the pillow. My whole back is exposed. And only the gray fabric of my drawstring pants lies between Farrow and my bare ass.
I’m not wearing any boxer-briefs.
He can probably tell.
I shut my eyes. Breathing stronger. The anticipation killing me.
And then his warmed, oiled hands start at my tailbone.Holy shit.Using the weight of his body to dig deep, he runs his thumbs and palms up the length of my back. Reaching the base of my neck and kneading circles around my broad shoulders.
A sharp breath catches in the pit of my throat.Holyshitholyshit.
His fingers and hands create hypnotic movements up and down my back, shoulders, and even my biceps and forearms. Every time he anchors his weight to knead and rub my body, I imagine his pelvis near my ass—I grit down.
Tighten my eyes shut more. I can’t get hard.
“Relax,” he breathes, his thumbs running up the back of my neck.That feels too fucking good.
He leans nearer to my body as his large hands travel down my build and then veer to my waist. Teasing against the band of my drawstring pants.
Don’t fantasize.
Don’t fantasize.
I breathe through my nose again. If I rotate and sit up—would we kiss?Stop thinking.When he leans closer again, I picture his lips beside my jaw. Nipping my ear before sucking, then I turn and we—no.
Yes.
Hell yes.
