I expect him to stay there. Tuck her in. Call it a night himself.
But he comes back, all stealth and silent. And when he sits on the couch behind me, I know I’m not watching the film anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
mia
His legs bracket my body,one on each side, grounding me between him and the cushion I’m leaning against. I feel him everywhere—the heat, the weight, the sheer presence of him. It wraps around me like a promise. Or a dare.
The TV fades to static. I couldn’t recall what’s on the screen if my life depended on it. My breath shortens. My thighs clench without permission. My pulse is so high, an oximeter would file for early retirement. He’s too close. This position is too intimate. My body knows something’s coming, and it blindly wants to meet it halfway.
“I thought I’d come back and teach you a thing or two about massages.” He places his hands on my arms and gives them a gentle squeeze. Is there any chance he didn’t feel my body shivering?
“Yeah. I mean… sure. Why not? Right?”Urgh. Why does the English vocabulary fail me whenever I’m horny?
Preston slips a finger under the strap ofthe flimsy top I’m wearing and the chills make a comeback. I have no game. No hope whatsoever.
“Can I lower these?” he asks and I nod.
In one smooth go, both top and bra straps are down to my elbow. The surgeon is precise. “Hope you don’t mind I borrowed some of your oil,” he adds.
The one you said smelled like me and kept you company in bed?
“No, I don’t mind it at all.”
His masterful hands start kneading my shoulders and I melt. Then moan. It’s amazing and embarrassing. “Damn, Preston. Oh God.” My head falls back. “No way I was this good when I had my hands on you.”
He chuckles and lowers his hands, working around my spine next. “Believe me, Mia. It felt pretty damn good to me. But I’m happy to teach youeverythingI know.”
“Oh, really? So you want to get massages only from me and also become my teacher?”
“That is, in fact, exactly what I want.”
That makes no sense, but my bones have turned to liquid and I can’t quite formulate questions at the moment.
After who knows how long, enough for me to reach some kind of nirvana and learn nothing about massages, Preston asks, “Relaxed enough?”
“More than I’ve ever been. You have magic hands, Doctor,” I say, so relaxed I sound I little groggy.
“Good. I have a confession to make and I need you to keep calm while you hear me out.”
“Oh, no. All tensed up again.” I turn my head to him. “What happened? What did you do?”
“Mia, breathe for me.”
I don’t know why, but I do.
“On your first day here?—”
I cut him off. “You saw me naked. I knew it. Just don’t. We agreed to never talk about it aga?—”
He cuts me off right back. “I heard what you and Callie were discussing when you got home that night.”
“What are you talking abou—” It takes a beat for the unwanted memory to surface. “Noooooooooo.” I face away from him, horrified.
His fingers press deeper into my shoulders and still. He asks, “May I?”
I consent with a nod, hoping he’ll concentrate on that and not talking. His hands work harder on the hundreds of new knots of his own creation.
