His voice gets closer. “You wanna grab lunch?”
I force my gaze away, turning to Matt—and my neck catches, pulling tight, pain shooting down my arm and into my head.
“Ah, shit.” I grip the muscle. “Fuck. I just pulled something.”
“You okay? Need me to rub it?”
“Fuuuuuck,” I whimper. “Not on the first day.”
Matt’s hands are already on my shoulders, kneading.
“Here,” he says. “Let’s loosen it up before we go. Then I’ll work my magic on it later tonight if it still hurts, alright?”
“Thank you.” I roll my neck gently as his hands massage the muscle. “I have a rub in my suitcase,” I add.
He chuckles low in my ear. “Of course you do. Whatdon’tyou have in there?”
“Um… A microwave. A blender. Snow pants. Do you really want to play that game?”
“Alright. I get it. You only packed what you needed.”
He gives my shoulder two playful squeezes. “Where’s the rub? I’ll grab it for you.”
“In my nighttime bag. It’s red and black.” I point aimlessly toward the suitcase like,good luck.
Matt unzips my luggage and starts pulling things out, setting them neatly on the bed.
“Holy shit,” he mutters.
“I heard that,” I call out.
“Wasn’t trying to hide it,” he fires back.
“Here, I can just get it—” I start toward him, but freeze when he turns around holding up one of the three vibrators I packed.
He cocks a brow, a smirk slowly forming. “Babe. I’ve seen alotof vibrators in my life, but what the hell is this?”
I let out an exasperated sigh and snatch it from him. “It’s a flutter wand.” I point to the end. “Suction.” Then I tap the middle. “Tongue.” I flip it. “And the other end is normal. Like a dick.”
“Yeah?” His gaze drags over me. “You like it?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah. I do. That’s why I brought it.”
“Can I watch?”
I shove at his arm. “Don’t make this a thing, alright? If I could just easily get off with my hand like you can, I would.”
“You know whose hand could get you off?” he asks, every bit the teasing bastard that he is.
“Hmm, let me think.”
I toss the vibrator back in my suitcase with the others.
He laughs while I dig through my nighttime bag. I pull out the rub and hand it to him. “Here. Could you please put this on my shoulders and neck?”
“You got it.”
He spreads the rub between his fingers and starts working it into my skin. “You know,” he says, his voice dropping low, right at my ear. “If you wanted to get off so bad, you could have just asked.”
