The door opens, and Lexi walks in, her hair drawn up on top of her head in messy disarray. She’s wearing a white bathrobe, and I need to know what she has on underneath.
Suddenly I’m not thinking about cats.
But I am thinking about a certain pussy.
My imagination is running wild.
My first thought is that, like me, she’s naked. That would be quite a treat.
But, knowing what I know about her, I somehow doubt it...which leads me to my second thought, which might be even sexier than the first—some sort of bra and panty set. I can’t decide whether a virginal white or a devilish black or a seductive red is the hottest.
What are you wearing under that?
My dick twitches.
Fuck.
Now I have to go get on a massage table with a boner.
She eyes me a little warily and steps toward the end table with the magazines. She picks one up and flashes it at me. “Cats?”
I chuckle and do my best to hide my wince at the sight of the furry critter on the cover. “The other options seem a little more relaxing.”
“You don’t find cats relaxing?” she asks, sliding into the chair next to the end table rather than one a little closer to me. She opens the magazine and starts flipping through it.
“Not particularly.”
“But look at this!” She holds up a photo of a kitten playing with a ball of yarn. Sure, it’s cute...but relaxing? Not really. “Isn’t it adorable?”
I lift a shoulder. “Yeah. Adorable.” I don’t hide my sarcasm.
“You don’t like cats?”
I shake my head. “I’m allergic,” I lie. I don’t know why I lie. I guess telling her one scratched my arm makes me feel a little like a pussy. On the other hand, it’s also letting her in...and that’s not my goal here.
This is just supposed to be fun. A little banter, touring the city together, maybe some sex if she thaws a little toward me...and that’s it. A fun weekend for us both to blow off some steam before she heads back home after her solo weekend getaway and I head to the house to battle it out for the chance to play permanently with one of the biggest bands in the world.
A door opens and a woman says, “Lexi and Gage?” We both stand. “Right this way.” She motions for us to follow. We walk into a dark room with quiet instrumental music and two massage tables set side by side.
“I’m Laura and I’ll be massaging Lexi right here.” She indicates one of the tables. “Gage, Audra will be massaging you over there. We’ll give you a minute to slip out of your robes and get onto your tables face down. Cover yourself with the sheet.” The two masseuses leave, closing us into privacy.
I gaze across the small space at Lexi. “You first,” I say, and my voice comes out a lot deeper than I mean for it to, but fuck if I’m not turned on as hell right now.
“Uh, I don’t think so, pal,” she says, shaking her head like I’ve lost my damn mind. She sets her hands on her hips. “You crashed my massage, so you can get on your table first, stick your head in the hole, and close your eyes. No peeking.”
I chuckle. “All right,” I say, and then, because I have zero fucks to give, I pull the robe off with her still looking at me.
Her eyes widen as they flick down my body. My arms, inked with tattoos and strong from weightlifting. My chest, firm from push-ups and benching. My abs, carved into a six-pack from a combination of crunches, running, and good genes. And then, a little lower, right on my cock, thickened almost to midnight as I think about her getting naked and lying on the table beside me, all slicked up and oily.
I watch her look at me for a beat, and then she turns away like she didn’t totally check me out. I hang the robe on a hook on the back of the door and try to ignore the feelings suddenly warming my chest. It’s just because there’s a nearly naked chick in the room with me. Nothing more.
“Good thing I didn’t have a no peek rule,” I murmur as I climb onto the table. I hear a little gasp from across the room, and I can’t help my wide smile as I stick my face in the head hole and pull the sheet up over my body.
She doesn’t say anything.
I open my eyes and stare down at the floor.
I don’t turn my head. That would be a violation of the one thing she requested, and I’m a gentleman...most of the time. When she wants me to be. If she wants the beast in bed, though, I’ll happily oblige.
My dick is still hard and it’s not the most comfortable to be laying on top of the steel rod, but I don’t have much choice.
And then I see her toes as she moves toward her own table. Toes painted a bright shade of neon pink, perfectly polished as though she just had them done. Something about seeing her toes feels both intimate and indecent, and my chest ripples with some unfamiliar feeling.
I push it away.
No white robe sways around her ankles, which means it’s off.
The woman who has consumed my thoughts since she interrupted a very important session of scrolling my phone in a bar by myself last night is naked and in the same room as me.
My dick hardens even more painfully. I wish I would’ve left my boxers on.
It takes every ounce of my willpower not to lift my head for one little peek.
My mind races with possibilities. If her toes are neon pink, she’s definitely sporting the black bra and panty set.
I blow out a breath. Is this really what a massage is like? Because this is about the least relaxing thing in the world.
CHAPTER 13: LEXI
I jolt when Laura lifts the cool sheet back over my body and murmurs, “Take your time getting up.”
The door clicks shut as our masseuses leave, and even though no words have been spoken between Gage and me for the last forty-five minutes, I feel this unexpected pull of intimacy toward him.
Maybe it’s because for the last forty-five minutes I’ve been picturing his naked body as it stood before me just before he got onto the table.
When I told him to go first, I certainly didn’t think he’d just drop his robe...and I really didn’t think he was buck naked underneath.
But he was, and I got a flash of the goods, and now I can’t stop thinking about how it would feel to have that body moving over mine.
Because, holy heck, that’s a body.
Hard. Everywhere.
It took all my willpower not to drool, and a little more not to lock the door and let him have his way with me right on the massage table.
I turn my head toward his, and I’m surprised when I see his eyes on me.
“How was yours?” he asks, his voice hoarse from silence.
I reach my arm across toward him, and surprise flashes through his eyes as he reaches his hand to meet mine. Our fingers lock together for a beat, and a rush of need heats my belly as the electric connection between our fingers travels all the way up my arm and straight into my heart.
“Amazing,” I murmur sleepily. “And yours?”
“Incredible.” His voice is just as sleepy as mine. He pulls his fingers from my grasp. “I suppose you want me to get up first?”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Why do I feel a little sense of disappointment that he’s doing exactly as I asked?
I shake out the feeling as he starts to shift and I put my head back in the table hole...even though I really want to peek again.