by Stacy Gold
I’d had plenty of professional massages over the years, and this, his touch—not the same. Not the same at all.
He worked methodically down my spine, kneading each knot until it released. But there was more to it than just his massage skills. A web of electricity built with every touch until it wrapped around me. Went right through me. Settled between my legs and vibrated.
I wanted to shift my hips, to push my ass up against him, but I resisted. If I were still on my back, his hard-on would be right there. Assuming he was as turned on as I was.
“Mind if I push your shirt up? This would be much better if I had bare skin to work with.”
Yesssss. NO. Fuck.
I wasn’t at all sure I could handle much better. Or his hands on my bare skin. Which was ridiculous. It was just a massage. An incredibly good one, but still. This was totally chaste. Totally safe. We were both adults.
I nodded, and his fingers slid under the hem of my shirt, grazing my skin when he skimmed it up my back, leaving prickling trails of fire in their wake. I held still. Not moaning. Not rising up to meet his touch. Definitely not begging for more.
He gripped my shoulders, thumbs making luxurious circles while his fingertips dug in below my collarbone. I squeezed my eyes shut and twisted my hands in the sleeping bag, willing myself not to melt.
“Relax, Morgan. Breathe.”
I exhaled, and sucked in a breath like it might be my last one. His fingers slid along my neck and shoulders, seeking out my tightest spots, working at them with just the right pressure. I ignored the way his touch connected directly to my nipples, my clit, that spot deep inside me.
“Where’d you learn to give such a good massage?” I mumbled into my sleeping pad.
“I used to give my mom massages all the time. She worked so hard. Two jobs. Standing on her feet all day.” I felt him shrug. “I knew I could never replace my dad, but I’d do anything to make her feel better, make her happy—even for just a few minutes.”
I melted into a giant pile of goo, until the guilt from not trusting him, and from misjudging him, washed over me in a nauseating wave. Just because he was hotter than any man had a right to be didn’t mean he was a self-absorbed horn-dog. I needed to get that through my skull.
I even had to admire his standards. The man had some hard-core relationship rules, but in a weird way, it all made sense and was kind of sweet and romantic. If one-night stands could ever be considered sweet and romantic.
****
I loved the way her body relaxed under my hands.
Mine, on the other hand, did the opposite. Or at least one part of it did. Good thing she couldn’t feel my hard-on with me straddling her. Because each time she sighed or moaned or shifted, I almost blew my wad.
How crazy is that?
If we ever did have sex, it would be epic with a capital E. I might not even survive. My heart sure wouldn’t. Good thing that option was off the table.
I smoothed my hands down her back, her skin silky as softened butter under my palms. Even though I didn’t want to stop, on my next pass I pulled her shirt into place before I did something stupid. Potentially fun, but stupid.
“Relaxed?”
“Mmmm hmmmm.”
“Sleepy?”
“Mmmmmmm.”
“Let me turn off the music and stoke the wood stove, and we’ll call it a night.”
When I crawled back onto our sleeping pads, Morgan was curled on her side, her pillow tucked under her head. Her breathing deep and even.
I stared at her profile while I could. She had a face I could get used to waking up to every morning. Too bad I’d only get tomorrow morning. Damned if I wasn’t going to make the most of it, though. Morgan deserved to be treated every kind of right.
I unzipped our bags, spread them over both of us, and slid in behind her. She snuggled into me like we’d been sleeping together for years. Matching my breath to hers, I toggled between being thankful for this awesome time together, and kicking myself for following my stupid-ass rules.
My sisters always said those rules would bite me in the butt one day. Not that I’d ever admit they were right.
Chapter Ten
My front was freezing, my back was sweltering, the pressure on my bladder, unceasing. I opened my eyes. Or thought I did, but everything remained pitch-black. Daniel shifted behind me, his arm heavy over my waist.
Yesterday, and last night, came into sharp focus in my sleep-hazed head.
Doing my best not to disturb him, I groped for my sleeping bag. When my hands hit cool nylon, I tugged it over me, hoping the warmth would be enough to let me doze off again, at least until sunrise.
I settled back against him and didn’t move. I didn’t want to move. Not with all six feet of his lanky muscles pressed into me, and his arm cradling me. What I wanted to do was memorize every moment of yesterday, so I could use it later as a litmus test for all future dates. Any man who wasn’t as honest, thoughtful, and funny as Daniel would never get a second shot.
If anyone had told me Danny-boy would set the standard for future guys, I’d have died laughing. Instead, I lay in his arms wishing this didn’t have to end. Both this moment, curled up in bed together, and our burgeoning relationship.
I’m ruined forever.
I snorted, reawakening my need to pee.
Resigned, I slid out of bed holding my breath. Daniel stirred, but his eyes stayed closed. Tiptoeing through the dark room, I snagged a water bottle and my toiletries, slipped on my down jacket and snow boots, and opened the door.
Cold air scratched at the inside of my nose. I set my water and toiletries on the porch railing, shivering while I tromped to the outhouse and back in the dim gray light of a million stars reflecting off the snow.
Standing on the porch, I brushed the now fetid taste of our late-night dessert out of my mouth. The deep stillness of a forest blanketed in snow, hundreds of miles from anywhere, surrounded me.
I loved it out here, when the guests were gone, and I had the place all to myself to write. To think. Though, maybe, just maybe, I loved it a teensy bit more with Daniel around… Sharing the excitement of a perfect powder run. Cooking me ridiculous meals. Talking and laughing about everything and nothing. Kneading my sore muscles. Caressing my skin.
Making me wonder what it would be like to have his hands on the rest of me. To have his mouth on mine. To have his mouth on other places. I shivered again, only this time not from the cold.
I spit toothpaste into the snow and rinsed my mouth with water so icy my teeth hurt.
Would I regret it if I left tomorrow without kissing him? Probably. Would I regret it if I did kiss him? Probably not. I wiped the corners of my mouth.
One kiss wouldn’t hurt anything. And that’s all it would be. I wouldn’t even be bending my own rules.
I just wanted to know, firsthand, if kissing Daniel would be even half as good as everything else.
****
The thump and click of the hut door closing brought me the rest of the way awake.
I opened my eyes. Closed ‘em. Opened them again. Middle-of-the-night dark either way. Freezing air nipped at my face. I shivered, positive I’d be able to see my breath. If I could see anything.
I stretched long, savoring the memory of Morgan’s body against mine. Of her skin under my hands. A guy could get used to that. Not that I’d get the chance.
Throwing off my sleeping bag, I crawled to the wood stove, stirred the coals, and added a few sticks of wood, blowing until flames caught. I ran my tongue through the layer of fuzz in my mouth and rubbed my arms for heat as I crossed the room. I needed my toothbrush and a cup of water. Not cool if Morgan wakes up to my crappy morning breath blowing in her face.
Mouth no longer tasting like a cat crapped in it, I rearranged our bags and splayed out under them, doing my best to warm both sides of the bed. I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep even though there was a giant empty spot next to me.
My body didn’t want to listen
to my head’s pleas for more shut eye. Nope. My entire front side alternated between chills, and remembering the heat of Morgan pressed against me.
Jesus. One night with the woman and I can’t sleep without her.
A long creak and a blast of frigid air told me she’d come back into the hut. I prayed she’d be willing to climb back into my arms too. Cracking an eye, I waited until she closed the door to speak.
“Hey.” I kept my voice pitched low so I didn’t surprise her.
“Hey. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. The cold did.” I held up the sleeping bag on her side. “Come back to bed and keep me warm, would you?”
She stopped by the big table. My breathing stopped with her. Her forehead creased, and she worried her lip long enough, I had to work to keep the tension from my face. Not to mention the center of my chest, where it threatened to keep me from breathing again. Ever.
About the time I started going blue in the face she kicked off her boots and shucked her coat. I shifted over to make room. She slid under her bag and turned toward me, head on her arm. The gap between us seemed wide as a groomed ski run.
In the soft light of the flames, her big green eyes held a million thoughts I couldn’t even begin to figure out. I wanted to though. Wanted to know every thought in her head. But I’d settle for holding her until morning.
“It’s late. We should go back to sleep.”
“Yeah.”
“Snuggle in.” I wrapped my hand around her hip and gave a little tug. “I promise I won’t bite.” Unless you want me to.
“What if I want you to?”
Wait. What?
“Ummmm. I think I lost you there.”
She scooted toward me and slipped her hand around the back of my neck. My heart did a little dance. Her leg fused up against mine, and a whole bunch of the tension in my chest moved about a foot lower.
I didn’t move though. Didn’t want to break the moment. I tried to read her face, figure out what she was up to.
She stared into my eyes with a look of determination. My heart sped up.
Is she about to kiss me? No way. Total wishful thinking. Never going to—
Her mouth rushed into mine, hot and wet and hell-bent on serious exploration. I opened my lips and let her tongue slide in, ignoring the ache in my ski-pole-stiff dick that made me want to flip her over and eat her alive.
This was her show. I was just a player in it for however long she wanted me. And right now, she wanted me. Yes!
Her teeth sank into my lower lip and tugged. I hissed, and focused hard on keeping my hands to myself. On not taking charge. I’d never forgive myself if I pushed her into anything she didn’t want to do, no matter how much it killed me and my throbbing stiffie. I let her twist her tongue with mine, meeting her halfway, staying chill on the outside while a million little pops went off inside my body.
She moaned like she’d just taken a bite of my chocolate torte. The sound vibrated straight to my balls. It didn’t take much of a push for her to tip me onto my back. She slid her leg across me, making my cock twitch. But not anything like it did when she straddled me, her pussy inches above my hard-on, her lips glued to mine.
The thin layers of our long johns did nothing to block the heat of her almost rubbing against me. I groaned into her mouth, and followed the groan with my tongue. No way could I resist.
Our tongues did a fine waltz. She sank down on my cock, arched her back and rubbed against me. Tiny whimpers escaped the back of her throat. She sucked on my tongue, and my balls tightened up hard and fast. I tilted my hips trying to increase the sensations. Making sure her clit was in on the action. Making sure this felt as good to her as it did to me.
She sat bolt upright, eyes too wide, and wiped the back of her hand across her lips.
Shit.
****
I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to stare at him. With his eyes gone dark and half-lidded, and his lips full and pink and parted, begging for mine, it took everything I had to stop. But I had to stop.
This was way too dangerous. One kiss and I’d morphed into a flaming ball of desire, lit up like a torch at every point of contact. One kiss and every thought in my head had taken flight. Talk about mind-blowing. This beat his cooking by a mile, and we’d barely done anything yet.
His dick twitched underneath me, and wetness slicked my folds. I wanted to rub against him again so, damn, bad. But I knew where that was bound to lead and I couldn’t go there.
I opened my eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
“I dunno, you seemed to be doing it just fine.” One corner of those delectable lips twitched.
I picked up my pillow and smacked him with it. “You know what I mean.”
He batted it aside. “Not sure I do.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop at kissing.”
“I have been told my lips are addictive.” His grin crinkled the corner of his eyes, deep amber in the dim glow from the fire. “Not to mention other parts of me.”
I smacked him with the pillow again. This time he pulled it out of my hands and brought my fingers to his mouth, letting his lips drift over my fingertips. I trembled and vowed to hold on to my self-control.
“Seriously, though. There’s nothing wrong with making out. And plenty we can do that’s safe, but really, really fun.” He sucked my pointer finger into his mouth, nice and slow.
The tingling shot like an arrow straight to my clit. I closed my eyes again. I couldn’t watch him do that and not lose the last threads of my self-control. “Mmmmmm. I don’t know.”
His tongue slid down the side of my finger and flicked the delicate, sensitive skin in the web. I shivered. Oh, God. The things he could to do to me with that tongue.
He suckled my middle finger, running the underside with his tongue in one long stroke until it slid out of his mouth. His thumb massaged slow circles in my palm.
“How about you just lie back and let me make you feel good? No intercourse.” He held up his free hand, three fingers straight, thumb crossed over bent pinkie. “Scout’s honor.”
“Were you really a Boy Scout?”
“Absolutely. That’s why I am trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.” His teeth gleamed in the dim light. “I’m also really good in bed. Though I can’t give the Scouts credit for that.”
I giggled. He flicked his tongue across my fingertips again and my laughter died. Fuck. I can think of lots of safe things we could do too.
The more I thought about the things we could do, the more I wanted to do them. I wanted his fingers to press and slide across my most sensitive parts. Wanted his mouth on my nipples instead of my fingers.
More than that, I wanted to lick and tease every line, every muscle, every dip on his chest and stomach until he begged me to put my mouth around his cock. I wanted to watch his face when he came, so I’d know exactly how good I made him feel.
“No.” I shook my head. “If we do this, it’s fifty-fifty. I get to make you feel good too.”
“Trust me. You will.” He gazed at me, expression wide open. “Making you feel good makes me feel good.”
Something inside my chest caved. How did any woman say no to that? How could I say no to that? To him. To this sweet, caring, sexy as hell man offering to satisfy me? That sounded even more insane than saying yes.
If we didn’t have intercourse, could I enjoy tonight and worry about tomorrow, tomorrow?
He let go of my hand and wrapped his fingers around my hipbones, thumbs drawing evil circles in the sensitive valley in front of them. All my attention focused on the three inches between his thumbs and my throbbing clit.
Chapter Eleven
I wouldn’t push her. Not one way or the other.
I needed her to want me enough to take a risk. To break her rules. Because my rules were pretty much crumbling, and I wanted to make love to her like I wanted my next
powder turn.
No, more than that. I closed my eyes and searched around in my head and my heart. Checked in with all my body parts. Yep. Waaaaaayyyy more than that.
Pretty sure I wanted her like she was someone I couldn’t live without.
Holy fuck. Dude.
I froze. Maybe this was a bad idea. If I went any further with Morgan, I’d want to go all the way. And not just fucking. I’m talking relationship. Maybe even marriage. Babies. Who the fuck knows?
Not sure I was ready for that. I definitely wasn’t interested in a long-distance relationship, which is what it would be, anyway. Being single was too easy and fun. No obligations. No worries about getting hurt, or hurting someone else.
Then again, maybe she would be the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me, and—
Her body weight shifted, lifted off me. I squeezed my eyes shut harder, afraid to see the look on her face. The one that said this was over before it started.
Her lips brushed across mine, so light I wasn’t sure it happened. I cracked my eyelids. Her face hung close enough the lines were soft. Out of focus.
I held my breath and waited. She tilted her head and nudged my mouth with hers. Flicked the tip of her tongue out, searing a line on my upper lip. She sucked on my lower lip and my dick twitched so hard, I’d swear she was sucking it instead.
“What are you doing?” I mumbled against her mouth.
“Kissing you.” She sat up partway and rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
A laugh shook my chest, but I didn’t let it out. Didn’t want to risk killing her mood.
“Okay. Just making sure you know what you’re doing.”
“I always know what I’m doing.” Her eyebrows knit. “I’m just not always sure how it will turn out.”
“Well, I think, if you keep kissing me, it’s going to turn out spectacular.”
“Then shut up and let me get back to what I was doing.”
Straight up joy vibrated from the soles of my feet to my heart, up into my head, pushing out all the worries. “Yes, ma’am.”