Feeling her weight on him, Matthew’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Her hands were soft yet confident, and he could almost feel what they might be able to achieve elsewhere. Catching himself exhaling in pleasure, he tamped down on his imagination. ‘Where did you learn to massage like this?’
‘Decades of yoga have taught me about muscle groups,’ she said, reaching all the way up to his neck, running her hands through the back of his hair, then down again. ‘Plus, I love a good massage. So I just think about how I love to be touched and then do that to the other person.’
. . . how I love to be touched.
The words rolled around in Matthew’s mind as her palms found their way to his sides, then down to his hips and settled on his buttocks. He’d never been one to enjoy a massage, but then again, it had never been one given by Sarah. There was something about her touch and caress that his skin craved. She had a way of making him feel vulnerable yet safe, so he let her explore his body as she saw fit. As her hands lapped at his naked back like waves on a shore, Sarah changed tack and every time she drew her hands back towards her, she allowed her nails to gently graze over his skin.
A low growl escaped Matthew. ‘Are you trying to kill me? Christ, Sarah.’
She pulled her hands off him immediately. ‘Sorry?’
‘Nails.’
‘Did I hurt you?’
‘No . . . Dr Stefania, remember?’
‘Oh!’ Sarah’s mind returned to the Q&A session in the orchard. Nails down the back: one of his greatest turn-ons. Though she hadn’t done it intentionally, there was something incredibly intimate about having Matthew so vulnerable under her control. ‘Uh . . . should I stop?’
‘If I say no, would you judge me?’
‘Not at all.’ And so she continued, allowing him to enjoy the trickle of her fingertips and nails along his spine.
‘Seriously. You’re getting me pretty worked up down here,’ he breathed.
Sarah thought it best to move on, so shifted her focus back to his shoulders and neck. Dismounting, she moved to the opposite end of the bed and stood over him, massaging in the opposite direction, leaning over his head to do so. The hem of her top brushed against Matthew’s cheek, and he caught a lingering waft of her perfume on the body-warm cotton. He closed his eyes and tried to restrain his body’s reaction to her scent. Feeling his heartbeat quicken, he sought to distract himself from the moment. Was it dangerous to enjoy it? Was he allowed to?
‘So, tell me,’ she started with a playful air, ‘do you hog all the equipment at the gym, or are you happy to share?’
He gave a low laugh, his muscles tightening in response. ‘My apartment building in Singapore had a gym. I used it every day without fail. And in all those years, never did I once see another living soul.’
‘Lucky boy.’
‘I just left my stuff in there in the end. If anyone else used it and cared, they never said so.’
‘Was it every day out of habit?’
‘Sort of. My stress relief.’
‘Exercise is fabulous medicine,’ she said, applying deeper pressure.
‘I was working ridiculous hours. Crazy stressful days. The gym kept me grounded.’
‘Music?’
‘Most of the time. Or a podcast.’
Sarah fell quiet for a moment, enjoying the rhythmic strokes over his skin. ‘That’s how I feel about yoga. It’s so routine for me after all these years that if I don’t do it, something feels off.’
‘I love how even in the midst of this renovation madness you’re still up and doing it every morning.’
Sarah laughed. ‘That’s because I’m a creature of habit.’
‘If it works . . .’
‘Exactly.’
‘The gym means losing myself to mindless repetition. You know? Just going through the motions. For me, no one else. Not having to meet any deadlines or talk to people. That was the only time I would stick my phone on flight mode. Other than that, I was always on-call, day and night.’
