Page 16 of Worth Risking It

My back to him, I scanned my inventory, opting for a lavender and eucalyptus mixture.

“Ready?”

“Sure.”

I turned around and froze, my heart crashing on my chest. Momentarily struck dumb, all I could do was ogle the man’s massive back covered in tattoos, down to his narrow waist, the towel covering the tight, round ass cheeks.

Well, this was a bad idea.

He squirmed around, resituating his face in the slot, his fingers twitching at his sides.

I cleared my throat, the back of my wrist on my forehead. “Uh, ahem. P-Put your arms…above your head.”

He curled them around the edge of the table. “Like this?”

“Hm. Mm hm.”

Filling my mouth with air, my cheeks puffed, I exhaled through pursed lips, building my courage and strength. He’s just another client, a man hurting, looking for relief. That’s it.

Putting a few drops of oil on my palm, I rubbed them together, took one last breath, and began the massage at his left shoulder. Immediately, my mind was overwhelmed with memories of touching this body in different ways, ways not so innocent.

It was probably one of the hardest things I’d ever done, but I managed to push those thoughts to the back of my head so I could concentrate on his needs. When I reached the knotted area, he fiercely lurched, howling in agony.

“Ah, goddammit! Fuck!”

I snatched my hands away, gazing at him writhing in pain. “I’m so sorry,” I whimpered, hating he was hurting this badly. “I…I gotta do it, Wyatt. I know it hurts, but I have to work it out.”

“Shit. Just…” He gripped the edge of the table and cursed. “Just do it. Ignore me and just get it over with.”

“You sure?”

“Chazzy!”

“Right, right. Got it.”

Tentatively, I lowered my hands to the spot, paused, and then just dug deep. He lurched and even whimpered, and my heart broke. Oh, did I hate this! I’d had clients go through this kind of anguish before, but none of them tugged at my heart like Wyatt. A new insight: Daddy’s pain was my weakness.

After several minutes, the knot finally began to loosen and his groans went from tortuous to relief, his muscles at last relaxing. Thankful, I eased the pressure in my movements. The left side finished, I made my way up his right, hovering over his head to push the heels of my palms down the outside of his spine. When I reached his pelvic bone, a husky groan vibrated from his chest.

My lids fluttered, my insides swirling. That was hot. When I massaged Milo for the first time, he was moaning and groaning through the whole thing. Other than when he was in pain, this was the first sound Wyatt had made and it was electric, sounding as if it came straight from his core.

Splaying my fingers out, I turned my wrists to drag them up the sides of his ribs, back to his shoulders.

“Turn over,” I whispered, petting his hair.

He didn’t move at first, just rotated his head to let me play with his silky locks. I was in no rush, I rather enjoyed this. Adding a little pressure to my fingertips, I stroked his scalp, being more affectionate than professional.

His lids lifted and he coughed, flipping to his back. Not surprised by the erection, I did my best to ignore it, starting on his left side. At his feet, I switched to his right and moved back to the top. At his head, I leaned over, running my palms over his chest.

I scanned the numerous tattoos with a sense of longing, missing him. How could I miss him when I loved Milo so much?

As I straightened my spine, dragging my touch to his shoulders, I purposely stretched my thumbs to roll the barbells in his nipples.

Another groan broke the silence, the white cloth twitching.

Focusing on his trapezius and sternocleidomastoid muscles, his neck arched, his face tipping toward me. His Adam’s apple shifted, his nostrils flaring slightly with a long exhale.

My movements again slowed and turned doting instead of healing while I searched his features. Was it possible I was in love with two men? I had always heard that if you fell in love with a second person, then you didn’t really love the first, but I honestly loved Milo. I could not see my future without him.