Perfect Form (Texas Tornados Book 1)

by Britney Bell

  Slowly and quietly, I back up the stairs to get myself under control, before I can go back down there and find out what the hell is going on. Deep breath in, hold it, let it out with a long slow exhale. One more time. There, heart rate is returning back to normal. Cock going down. Okay, I got this.

  This time down, I bolt from the stairs only looking straight forward at the wall behind the poker table and turn to her as I announce, “Who are you, and where is Jordan, who Coach sent?”

  She screams a loud ear piercing sound and jumps about a foot off the ground. Clutching her chest and trying to catch her breath, she chokes out, “What?”

  “You heard me. Who are you, and where is Jordan?” I reply harsher than I intend, but this little thing has my nerves on edge.

  “Look, mister, I don’t know what side of crazy you’re from, but I am Jordan, and I am here as a favor to Mr. and Mrs. Briggs.”

  “Coach would not have sent you. A girl is not strong enough to do the job effectively for what I need done. Jordan is a guy.”

  My eyes bounce around everywhere just trying not to look at her and think about that sweet ass. But, now I chance a look, and dammit, she is bent over digging in some large bag, wiggling that damn ass in my face again. Is she trying to kill me?

  She pops back up, turning sharply toward me, and shoves a driver’s license in my face. “See? I am Jordan, and Mr. Briggs did send me to do a job at this address. Why in the hell else would I be here? If you need further proof, call him yourself.”

  She is so close her body heat hits me, and the gold specs in her eyes are like diamonds. Her silky sandy blonde hair smells like peaches, reminding me of her peach-shaped ass. It is all turning me on. I’m getting hard again and these shorts will certainly not hide it.

  I walk over to the bar, putting some distance between us, and think through how this could be happening. “Yeah, I believe I do need to call him,” I respond while I grab a water out of the fridge from behind the bar.

  As I’m dialing Coach’s number, I still a glance at her, and she’s got her cute hip cocked against the massage table, her attitudinal arms crossed over her chest. She’s a feisty little one. God, and if that isn’t fucking hot.

  Turning around facing the wall behind the bar to make my call, in order to shield me from being distracted, and act like she’s not hearing every word of my conversation.

  Coach answers, “Hello, Tyler? Why are you calling me, you should be on a massage table right now getting therapy.”

  “Uh, Coach, I think there has been a mistake. There is a woman here with the name Jordan, and she says that you sent her for the massage therapy. I know that just can’t be; the team does not hire girls.”

  “Tyler, Jordan is a woman, but she is an amazing masseuse and is very capable of helping you recover.” I pause, trying to think how this can possibly work, and Coach continues, “Tyler, the guys at the stadium are overloaded, and there’s no way they can fit you in. Now, Jordan is your massage therapist for the week. The alternative is a greater chance of you not being on that field with us on Sunday.” Coach finishes with strong finality and ends the call.

  Staring at my phone, not believing this is my reality that I’m going to have to deal with for the next five days, I close my eyes and drop my head with a big sigh. I turn back to Jordan.

  “Well, I guess it’s you and me for the week.”

  She says nothing in reply, just waves her arm in front of her body, inviting me onto the table. I’m having to trust Coach on this one. We’ll see how it goes. Hesitantly, I move over to the table.

  “Are you afraid that I will hurt you?” Jordan asks with a chuckle, as she looks at me with all the confidence that I don’t have.

  “No,” I snap back.

  “Well, let’s get to it. I will go up the stairs, and give you a minute to undress. Lay face down on the table and cover up with this towel.”

  “Okay.” Satisfied with my reply, she turns and walks off as I stare at those luscious cheeks moving up the steps. Dear, Lord, help me. This is going to be really painful laying on my hard cock, if I can’t get it under control.

  6

  Jordan

  Walking up the stairs, I have to grab onto the railing to catch my balance. Holy cow, what just happened? I can’t tell if I’m turned on or pissed off. That guy has my body reacting one way, and my mind acting a totally different way. All I know, is that my panties are wet and my heart is racing. Calm down, Jordan.

  I reach the top of the stairs, lean against the wall, and close my eyes. Okay, I got this. I don’t know who this guy is, but this is important to Mr. and Mrs. Briggs, therefore I will handle this professionally and do the best job I can. Especially, since this guy doesn’t think that a female can be as good as a male massage therapist. I’ll show him. He’ll be crying on my table before the night is over with, and I can promise, he’ll be thanking me by the end of the week, after he is all healed and set off to do whatever it is he does.

  “Are you all set for me to come back in?” I ask from the top of the stairs.

  “Yeah, I’m ready,” he replies with a little shakiness in his voice.

  On each step I take down, I inhale in and exhale on the next step, controlling my heart rate and breathing. At the bottom, I take a small peek around the corner before entering. What I see has me gasping.

  Broad firm shoulders attached to long strong arms are centered on top of a solid chiseled back, leading to a very round ass hump covered by the white towel. Wow! Now, that’s a work of art, and so much more interesting than the ones hanging on the walls.

  “Okay, let’s get started, but I need you to tell me why I am actually here. What happened that would warrant such extreme therapy, and why the rush and panic to get you recovered in one week?”

  He turns his head from resting in the hole on the table to look at me with a confused look on his face. Squinted blue eyes bore into me.

  “Well, Mr. Beckett?” I ask with a hand on my hip, squinting my eyes back at him. Who does this guy think he is? He acts like the world just evolves around him.

  “Jordan, you really don’t know.”

  “No, Mr. Beckett, I don’t really know. Please enlighten me.”

  Tyler chuckles a little and turns his body slightly to face me, putting his unreal well defined muscular chest on display. “I am the quarterback of the Texas Tornados, Jordan. The last several games have not been very easy going on my body, and today, I was hit from several different ways at once. It strained my back causing very bad spasms in my lower back. I have to be well enough to pass the physical test on Friday and handle the workout well, on Saturday, in order to be released by the team doctor for Sunday’s playoff game,” he says matter of factly, and rolls back over to place his face back in the hole.

  The room is silent, I take a moment to let all of this sink in. His playing time and the potential decision of whether or not the professional football team will have their leader on the field during the playoff run, is contingent on me doing my job successfully.

  Yeah, no pressure.

  Easing up to the table, I warm my hands with a pump of massage oil and rub them together. Once I place them on his lower back, my instincts take over, and I get lost in working on my client. All thoughts of the squabble, gone. He’s now just a client, and I am his healer.

  I can feel his muscles spasming from my smooth touch of long strokes over his lower back. Feeling out where they are tight, and where they are bunching together in knots. A rough tug-of-war of muscle is going on in there. Oh, dear, he must be in a lot of pain.

  Now, I understand why this will be a week-long job. We will have to keep these loose and pliable, as the inflammation goes down and they conform back to where they should be.

  Putting one hand on top of the other and pressing in even harder, I rub all the way from one side across to the other. After giving pressure to the muscles just above the hip bones, he starts to wiggle a little, and I know I’ve hit the right spot. Staying here workin
g it and the tissues that attach around this lower back area over for a good while. He’s now trying to hold in his grunts and moans and moving even more on the table. Oh, no you don’t. I’ve got you now, and these muscles will conform to realignment.

  Not saying a word to him, and keeping the room silent and serene, we’ve gone through 45 minutes of intense deep tissue massaging. Now, for the last 15 minutes I give him an overall massage to relax the rest of his body. My goodness, his body is so tight and wound up. I work his full back side, all the way from the neck down to his toes. Every inch of his body is fit. My guess would be, two percent body fat or less. Definitely, the most fit person that I have ever worked on. Feels absolutely amazing under my hands.

  Whispering, “Rest time. When the timer goes off, sit up slowly and get dressed. I will be back a few minutes after it goes off.”

  I set the timer on the side table for five minutes and grab my bag with water bottles and vitamin-C drinks. Quietly, I go upstairs to prepare the drink and rest myself.

  Magnificent, his body truly is a work of art. I sit there aimlessly stirring the little cup of orange liquid, thinking about every tight divot and line that my hands just ran over. His ass is so round and firm as it leads into his huge muscular thighs. It’s like they were dancing to an unknown song that took me to a place that my body has never gone before. My nipples ache, and I need a new pair of panties. They are drenched.

  7

  Tyler

  A very loud buzzing sound wakes me with a startle. I must have fallen asleep at some point. Moving my feet and hands, I turn my head to either side to look for her. She’s not anywhere that I can see. So, I roll over slowly, carefully keeping the towel around my waist, and I sit up even more carefully. Right now, my body feels so relaxed, and little tingles are flowing through it. There for a while, I didn’t think I could handle the pain. She was digging so deep into my muscles, I wanted to jump off the table.

  This little lady has some extremely strong hands. Having them rub all over my body was pure heaven. I bet she would be good at rubbing the front side of my body, as well. Thinking about her massaging my complete front side has my cock so hard, and it is tenting the towel.

  Before I have a chance to run those thoughts further through my mind, which is definitely controlled by my dick, I hop off the table and grab my sweats to throw them on. I’ll have to take a shower. I smell like spearmint and have oil all over my back side.

  As soon as I think that, Jordan says from the top of the stairs, “Knock, knock, are you decent?”

  One moment pause gives me enough time to adjust myself and answer, “Yes, I’m good. Come on down.”

  She bounces down the stairs and gives me both an orange drink and a bottle of water with instructions to drink the orange stuff now and the water within the next hour. I watch her eyes, and her chin is tilted up, so she can look me straight in my eyes. It’s like she’s trying to avoid looking at my body. With both of us standing, her face is right at my chest, but she only looks at my face. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a shirt on.

  “Can we talk about how this scheduling will go?” she questions me with a stern voice.

  “Yes, I am supposed to have ice on and off between massages, and the massages are every four hours, except at night.”

  “Okay, you are supposed to have eight hours of rest time at night, I will be back here at 7am to do the first massage round. Would you mind if I left my equipment here, or would you prefer that I take it with me tonight?”

  “Oh.” Looking around, I hadn’t even thought about that. “Definitely leave it here. I wouldn’t want you to have to trudge it all back in a couple of hours,” I say and look back at her with a bright smile. She smiles back at me, and I feel like it’s a new beginning for us. “Jordan, I do have to say, that was probably the best, albeit painful, massage I have ever had. Don’t dare tell Matt at the stadium that I said that, or I will deny it.”

  She laughs a little, and her cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink. I like it a lot, and it pulls at me somehow. Shaking my head I continue, “Your hands are lot stronger than I would have ever thought they would be. I do see why Coach sent you, and I am sorry for all the confusion earlier.”

  “No problem, Tyler. Thank you for the apology, I can see it was a shock that I was not what you were expecting.” No, she was definitely not what I was expecting, and I am so glad.

  Today has been an exhausting day, yet I am so relaxed, and I can’t wait to crawl into bed. During my shower, I start thinking about Jordan. I have to rush through, or else I’ll end up spending another 30 minutes in here, thinking even harder about her and having to take care of that ‘situation.’

  Sitting on the side of the bed, I set my alarm to make sure I wake up in time to meet Jordan in the morning. Why am I so excited to see her, I’m like a damn teenager who is giddy to see a girl, but she’s not a teenage girl. Oh, no, she is certainly not teenage in anyway. Why am I even thinking of her in this way? She is my massage therapist for the week. I need to lock these thoughts down, right now. My bed feels amazing, and the last thing I remember is hitting the pillow.

  The alarm sounds, and I groan at the thought of having to get up, yet as Jordan pops into my mind, suddenly I have something to get up for. My body is stiff, and I move slower than usual, but I make it into the shower.

  Letting the warm spray beat down on my muscles, I lower my head and let it massage my neck. When the memories of Jordan come to mind, I am instantly hard, and this time I let those thoughts run.

  Her nice round peach-shaped ass, my hands itch to feel those curves in my palms. I can see myself behind her as she’s adjusting the sheet on her massage table. Feeling that ass up against my hard cock, I reach around placing both hands under her scrub top, and slide them under her bra to cup her plump breast. I squeeze them and pinch her nipples, she gasps and pushes her ass further back into my cock, rubbing it, searching for release. My name escapes her mouth in a plea. That final thought makes me reach for the wall to brace myself as I cum all over my hand.

  I’m in so much trouble. How am I going to handle being so close to her and having her hands all over my body for the next four days, nearly all day long? It’s going to be heaven or hell. I can’t decide.

  8

  Jordan

  It is way too early. There should be a law against waking up at 5:30 in the morning. It’s ridiculous. Who in the hell does this? Right, lots of people. I know I’m being overly dramatic. I need caffeine. Stretching like a cat to try and get the blood circulation flowing through my body, reluctantly, I get out of bed. It will take me at least 45 minutes to drive to Tyler’s house, and I’ll already be rushed for time.

  After a quick shower and my morning stretches, I dress in my uniform of scrubs. Color of choice today is dark green. When I’m finishing up the details in the bathroom, I look at myself and notice that my ponytail is a little puffier, and I added an extra layer of mascara. What’s that about? I have a hunch that it has to do with the tall sexy beast that plagued my dreams last night.

  Protein bar for breakfast and a to-go cup of coffee, and I’m out the door, just in time. Love the smell of spearmint in the mornings, not. I don’t love mornings at all. I am such a grouch right now, and need to get control of my attitude. Up beat music should do the trick. Phone connected, I select my favorite playlist and jam out, sipping my coffee for the next 45 minutes.

  I’m much better when I arrive at Tyler’s gate and press the button to buzz myself in. Again, the gate opens automatically, without anyone coming over the intercom. That’s good; I much prefer not yelling at those boxes.

  The sun is beginning to rise, and it’s actually really nice outside. Maybe mornings aren’t that bad, after all. Shrugging my shoulders to my own thoughts, I ring the doorbell.

  Tyler answers this time, instead of his assistant, which is nice. Hot damn, my body temp suddenly rises with hearing only a few words come from his mouth.

  “Good morning, Jordan.�
� Oh, dear, it’s going to be a long day.

  “Good morning, Tyler. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, I was so relaxed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.” Thinking about his head on his pillow, and his body stretched out laying in his huge bed… Stop, thinking!

  “Very good, how is your lower back this morning.”

  “It’s sore, and I’ve already had an ice treatment. So it’s a little numb right now.”

  “Okay, let me run down and turn on the stone warmers. They take about 10 minutes to warmup, then we can begin.”

  “Jordan, do you want a cup of coffee while we wait?”

  “Sure, that would be great. Thank you,” I reply looking into his soft brown eyes for the first time this morning. They grab me, and it’s hard to look away. My fingers ache to run through his thick hair; it’s just the right length to tug slightly when… my breath hitches. My thoughts break, and I push myself to remember what I was just doing and run down the stairs. The momentary break is nice to get my nerves in check.

  Coming back up, I see Tyler, and he looks so sweet sitting there on a bar stool with a t-shirt, sweats, and spikey dark brown bed hair. His coffee mug looks so small in his giant hands. There is another mug sitting on the bar in front of the seat next to his. So, I accept the unspoken invitation and slide up next to him. He thoughtfully set sweetener and creamer there as well. Pouring a little creamer and adding one sweetener, I see him out of the corner of my eye watching me, and turn my head to meet his gaze. A huge smile greets me.