Black Heart (Cursed Hearts #1)(25)

“Ah, lad, yer hurt again,” Shayne said a moment after he popped onto the scene.  “I can see the pain in yer eyes, lad. Ye need to get that looked at.”

Tristan couldn’t agree more. His shoulder was on fire from dragging those men into the living room. He wasn’t too surprised that Shayne had abandoned his Gilligan's Island marathon to come to him. He could sense when Tristan needed help. For some reason they were connected, always had been.

With a forced smile, he excused himself, leaving Marty to follow after him. Without a word, he tore off his body armor. He climbed into the passenger seat and waited for Marty. After a slight pause, she climbed in and adjusted the seat by sliding it forward several inches until she could reach the pedals.

She delicately cleared her throat. “Where to?”

Chapter 8

“Detective Black, stop squirming!” Janice snapped as she mauled his shoulder. Tristan buried his face in his office couch and gritted his teeth.

“Gad, that looks like it hurts,” Shayne said.

“Of course it hurts! I’ve got Attila the Hun trying to give me a massage!” Tristan snapped, uncaring at the moment that he was talking to Shayne in front of Janice, the masseuse from hell, and Marty.

Janice's hands stilled. “There’s no need to insult me.”

“Bullshit!” Tristan snapped. “Who the hell taught you how to give a massage? Freddy Kruger? For f**k’s sake, Janice, cut your goddamn nails!” he snapped the last part as she commenced with her backrub.

He wasn’t kidding about her nails. What kind of masseuse had inch long nails with flowers painted all over them? They kept digging into his skin, sending more fire straight into his injury.

“I don’t know, lad, maybe ye shouldn’t keep pissing her off. It looks like she’s being rougher,” Shayne said nervously.

“Ah, Janice?” Marty piped in from her desk.

“What?” Janice asked, not stopping in her assault, ah, massage.

“You’re leaving scratch marks on his scar tissue,” Marty tried to point out quietly.

“What?” Tristan demanded.

Janice squirmed. “Sorry. I have a big date tonight and well,….you know,” she said with a shrug. “I got my nails done this morning.” She placed her fists on her h*ps and said defensively, “Hey, I did you a favor by coming here today. It’s supposed to be my day off!”

Tristan struggled to push himself up, but thanks to her massage, his shoulder and arm were on fire and useless at the moment. Janice moved to continue the massage, but Marty stopped her.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said. Janice rolled her eyes before she caught the murderous glare Tristan was sending her way. Then she stepped back and noticeably swallowed. Smart girl.

“Ah, I think a gentle rubdown with warming lotion will take care of everything.” She grabbed a tube of lotion from her bag and approached Tristan, hesitantly.

“Ah, lad, I’ve seen this scene hundreds of times in horror movies. This is the part where she skins ye alive and makes a dress out of it. If I were ye, I’d run,” Shayne said, sounding amused.

Tristan threw him a glare as Janice slowly approached him. He opened his mouth to tell her where she could put those fake nails when Marty surprised him by snatching the tube of lotion away from her.

“Hey!” Janice cried.

“I’ll do it,” Marty surprised the hell out of him by saying.

Janice nibbled her lip nervously as she looked from Marty to Tristan. Finally she sighed. “Fine, but someone owes me a hundred and fifty dollars for this visit.”

At that, Tristan managed to push himself up, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and arm. Janice yelped and jumped back, grabbing her bag and headed for the door. “You know what? On second thought forget about it!”

He was still going after her when a small warm hand pressed against his bare chest. It stunned him enough to halt his pursuit and allowed Marty to gently press him back.

“Sit at the desk. It will make it easier for me,” she said as she squeezed some lotion in her hand.

The idea of Marty running her hands over his body sent a very different fire through him. A thousand past fantasies raced through his head, all of them making him break out into a sweat.

“That’s not necessary,” he finally managed to say.

Instead of listening to him like anyone else would have done, she shook her head and gently pushed him towards his chair. Not sure what else to do, Tristan threw Shayne a pleading look.

“Sorry, lad. I’d let her if I were ye. I’d do it myself, but I’m not yer bitch,” Shayne said with a wink.

Tristan discreetly flipped him off, earning a chuckle. “Good luck, lad. I’m off,” Shayne said before he faded out of the office.

“I don’t want to hurt you, so let me know if I’m being too rough, okay?” Marty said as she gently touched his shoulder.

He groaned as she began to carefully massage his shoulder. Her hands stilled immediately. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, it felt good,” he said, feeling like a moron.

“Okay,” she said as she returned to massaging his shoulder.

Tristan tried to focus on something else, anything else as her hands moved over his shoulder, back, chest and down his arm. Her hands felt so good on him. He soon found himself closing his eyes and just enjoying it.