Naked Love(68)

“Ave?”

“Hmm?”

“Where were you?” Jake whispers, feathering his lips over mine.

“Just … talking to God.”

His eyebrows knit together. “About Swarley?”

“Um … yes.”

I’m going to Hell. But that’s not a newsflash.

On a sympathetic sigh, he rolls to the side, pulling me into his body for a hug. “I feel like an ass for trying to seduce you while your mind is clearly on Swarley … where it should be tonight.”

Rubbing my lips together, I leave my focus on my hands pressed flat to his chest. If I look at him, he’ll know. He’ll see my lies, my perversion. My sins.

“Do you pray for him to live or do you pray for him to find peace as well as your sister and her family?”

I’m a terrible person.

I pray that God will provide him with a soft blanket to hump in his afterlife.

“I’m going to Hell,” I whisper.

“No. Why would you say that?” He slides a leg between mine, bringing us even closer.

I push away. “Naked and on your stomach.”

His lips twist into a restrained but sexy grin.

“One sec.” I fetch a towel from the bathroom and toss it to him. “Cover your goods with this.” I turn my back and retrieve lotion from my bag.

He chuckles. It’s playful, and I could listen to it forever like a song that speaks to the heart, making it overflow with bliss. “My ass? Is that what you’re calling my goods? And is there a reason you have your back to me?”

Squeezing my legs together, I clear my throat and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m trying to be professional.”

“Professional Avery. I like where this is going.”

“Just …” I roll my eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I turn. Damn … he’s six feet, two hundred plus pounds of raw sex appeal on his stomach with his to-die-for ass mostly covered with a much-too-tiny hand towel. Coincidence? I think not. “What kind of pressure do you like?” Kneeling beside him on the bed, I draw in a slow professional breath and squirt lotion onto my hand.

He rests his head on the opposite cheek, peering back at me. “You know I like it hard, Ave. Just like you.”

Harnessing my poker face, I nod. “Firm pressure. Noted.”

He smirks, but I cling to my stoic expression, even if I’m drowning in my own arousal in other areas.

My hands, forearms, and elbows go to work on his back. He moans, eyelids drifting shut. My knees pull inward to stave off the desire that’s out of my control. After twenty minutes of working on his back, I wipe the sweat from my brow.

This might have been a bad idea. I’m a good massage therapist. Clients pile up on waiting lists to see me, but Jake might not see my amazingness shine through because I’m a bitch in heat.

Rules of massage: focus all your thoughts on your client, let go of extraneous thoughts.

Done.

I’m all about Jake right now.

Powerful messages—palpable sensations—can be transferred from my fingers and palms to my client.

Done.

By now Jake should know I want to touch him everywhere with every part of my body. I want to give pleasure and take some of my own as well.

Moving on to his legs, I scoot off the bed and stand at the end, working my thumbs deep into his muscles.

“Ave … you’re so … fucking … incredible,” he mumbles like a drunk.

“I know.” I grin, but if I’m honest, Jake’s approval of my skills makes fireworks explode inside of me. His moaned words trump every glowing review I’ve ever received.

After another thirty minutes, I’m not sure he’s awake. Stilling my hands on his calves, I give his legs a gentle shake. “Roll onto your back.” I turn, flexing and bending my fingers, rubbing them to relieve the stiffness.

“Ready,” he says.

“Oh!” I cover my mouth, eyes wide.

Jake grins without opening his eyes.

I was wrong. He’s far from being lulled to sleep. He’s very much awake. I toss a pillow over his midsection because the towel lost the battle with his stiff cock.

After I work my way back up his body, I kneel just above his head, massaging his scalp. His eyes blink open. He just … stares at me with an unreadable expression. I lose the stare-off and look away while my fingers continue to make tiny circles.

“Come closer,” he whispers.

I pause, meeting his gaze again.

No smiles. No telling expressions.

My head descends a few inches.

“Closer.”

I don’t know what it is, but it’s like something just shifted between us, and it happened in a single blink. And now … I’m scared and vulnerable and just … naked to my bones.

Moving closer, the tips of my damp hair brush his face, our lips a whisper away.

“I love you.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, tears race to fill my eyes, blurring his beautiful face.

“I live in L.A.” Panic rides in on its giant horse, drawing its sword to slay my dreams before disappointment takes me hostage.

“I love you.” He doesn’t give my reply the tiniest of flinches.

“I love shopping and cheese,” I whisper as his hand cups the back of my head.