His brows furrowed. “Are you really turning down a naked massage?”
A sudden wave of laughter escaped my lips and turned into a coughing fit as I tensed and clutched his arm. “I can’t wait until it doesn’t hurt to laugh anymore because you and your witty comebacks might just be the end of me.”
“I’m sorry,” he replied, and his complexion paled.
“There’s no need.” I lifted my hand and placed it on the center of his chest over his heart. “I love your sense of humor.”
“And I love you, Ari.”
The reminder of how close I came to dying chose that moment to send a shiver down my spine. I brushed the thought aside and wrapped my hand around his neck. As soon as his lips met mine, the rawness of our feelings drowned out the world of chaos that nearly stole our future together from underneath us.
Jameson wasted no time, threading his hands through my hair as he angled my head, deepening our kiss while his tongue danced perfectly in sync with mine. His stubble, which I wasn’t used to since he couldn’t have facial hair on the job, prickled against my skin as we lost ourselves to each other, savoring the gift of each other’s presence until he abruptly put the brakes on things again.
“Now, let’s get that sweet ass of yours on the bed; I know the massages are helping with your back and shoulder spasms.”
I couldn’t deny his statement, thankful those were the worst of my injuries, along with some facial bruising. However, the constant discomfort I was still experiencing in my shoulders,even while performing the most minor tasks, was undeniably frustrating.
Jameson climbed on the bed next to me and warmed up the lotion in his hands before pressing his palms to my skin. With each slow, purposeful stroke, after a few minutes, I could feel the tension in my muscles slowly begin to melt away. The way his fingers kneaded the knots under my shoulders in my traps with just the right amount of pressure was decadent. The rhythmic motion lulled me into a place of tranquility, absolving me of any worry, and took me to a place where everything flowed harmoniously.
I let out a soft sound of approval as his hands trailed down my body, leaving a heated trail in its wake and my thighs pressed together. Every cell in my body vibrated with only an ache he could elicit and soothe simultaneously.
When he squeezed the soft flesh on my buttocks, my hips lifted in search of more pressure.
“Does my girl need more?” His voice was raspy, low, and charged with intent.
“Yes.” I was needy and desperate for everything I knew he’d bestow upon my body if given a little encouragement since I believed he’d been holding a part of himself back, fearful of aggravating my injuries.
He shifted his weight on the bed, straddled my thighs, and leaned up over my back. His teeth nipped a path across my shoulder to my ear. “Tell me, Red, where do you want my touch most?”
“Please, Jameson.” I longed for the depth of our connection as much as I needed my next breath.
“Tell me,” he repeated, pulling my earlobe between his lips, scissoring his teeth.
“Everywhere.”
“Nah, Ari, you can do better than that.” He swiveled his hips and pressed his cotton-clad erection into my backside. “Be more specific.” The sexy, dark edge of his voice drew me out of my shell, and I was breathless with need.
“Between my legs.”
“That’s it, Red. Don’t ever be afraid to tell me what you want.”
I had never trusted anyone as completely and wholeheartedly as I did Jameson. He was the only person who recognized my vulnerabilities as strengths and found them sexy and alluring.
He was a drug I never wanted to rehab from.
Jameson pressed a series of wet kisses down my spine, then blew a purposeful breath across my dampened skin. The sensation of the cool air meeting the warmth of my skin sent a wave of tingles vibrating the length of my body, setting every nerve ending ablaze.
His fingers leisurely dragged up the back of my thighs before he separated my legs and moved between them. “This ass, it makes me so hard I can barely see straight.”
I lifted my hips off the bed as his thumbs separated my cheeks and began exploring until his thumb reached under me and circled my clit with exquisite pressure.
“Do you miss it?” He asked, referring to my hood piercing that a nurse removed in the hospital before I had X-rays done.
“If that stunt you pulled in the bathtub was of any insight, then I’d say, no, I don’t need it with you.”
It was the truth.
“Why?” He slipped two fingers inside me, the tips brushing across the sweet spot that had me seeing stars behind my eyelids on contact. “I want to hear you say it.” He pumped his fingers and moved his thumb with such relentless abandon I could hardly think straight.
