Love's Tender Bond [Bonding Camp 6] (Siren Publishing Menage and More)
Page 2
“I will.” Sam stepped through the door into the sunshine.
It was a warm day, warmer than it had been all week. Sam was sweaty and his back really was starting to ache. He’d already shoveled five wheelbarrows full of mulch and he had about three more to go before he was done. He glanced at his watch. It was four in the afternoon. He hoped to have the gardening done by five and tools put away by five-thirty. Then he was going to take a swim in the pool before showering, just to cool off. He had been hot when Missy had approached him and he was hotter now that he had spent some time with her. And it wasn’t due to the sun beating down on his back, either.
With a sigh, he started for the wheel barrow and the shovel that awaited him.
Sam grabbed the spade and dug it into the woodsy-smelling mulch. The scent of cedar filled the air as he dropped the wood chips onto the flowerbed. He loved the outside work the most. The sun on his face and the music of birds filled him with a sort of peace. There was no place on earth like the forest. Sam would never be happy anywhere else but here.
Working for the law firm of Cane, Moss and White was a dream job for him. Not only did he get to live here at the compound they owned in the woods of upstate New York, he got paid to take care of the place. He’d been here almost five years now and being hired for this job had been a godsend. He’d been a lost soul most of his life, drifting in and out of little towns and villages as he wandered. His parents had kicked him out when he was seventeen, telling him it was time he got out and earned a living for himself. Sam was happy to leave. At least he hadn’t had to listen to them fighting all night anymore. But he’d never had a sense of “home,” so he didn’t stay in any one place for very long. Until Justice Cane had hired him to be the caretaker of the compound.
Justice had taken a chance on him. At thirty-six years old, when Sam applied for the job, he really didn’t have any references to speak of. Sam had been lucky to land it. Once he settled in at the compound and began working around the place, it felt like he was growing roots for the first time in his life. After the first year, he knew he would never leave. This was “home,” and now that he’d found it, he couldn’t give it up.
He straightened and swiped the back of his hand over his forehead, wiping away the sweat. Squinting up at the sun that blazed down through the tree tops in the small clearing, he wondered if he would ever find someone to share this place with him. Someone to share his life and be satisfied with what it was. Sam was forty-one and was rooted firmly in this ground he tended. Nothing was going to change that. And even though he participated in the bonding camps the firm held here, there were times when he wished he had someone to cuddle up to his side in his bed in the dark. A woman he could wrap his arm around and pull close while he talked about his day.
Sam shook his head and drove the shovel into the mulch again. At this point in his life, he wasn’t sure he’d ever find anyone like that. The members of the firm had found their lifemates just within the past year or so. They had all found someone who enjoyed this place and willingly joined in bonding camp activities. That was another thing he didn’t want to give up—bonding camp. There weren’t that many women who would indulge his desire to be part of a ménage which included bondage. It wasn’t like he could meet someone off the street, spend time getting to know her, then invite her to “bond” with him and his coworkers without knowing her thoughts on multiple sex partners. And he had no idea how he would even bring the subject up with someone who wasn’t involved with the firm.
He turned to toss the spadeful of mulch onto the flowerbed, and just as he flipped the spade, he felt a sharp pain flash across his lower back. “Argh!” It felt like a knife had just sliced across his kidneys. He lowered the spade and leaned on it, trying to catch his breath. “Guess I’m getting older,” he muttered as he slowly straightened up. There was still a pang of pain twitching in his back. Maybe he should take Missy up on that offer of a massage after he had a shower.
Sam slowly gathered up his tools, loading them into the now-empty wheelbarrow and pushing it toward the tool shed. Every time he moved, he felt something pull in his back. He was definitely going to have to do something about it. He’d have to take some meds or try to find his heating pad or something. It wouldn’t be good to get his back all tied up with the weekend coming up. Sam was never sure if there was going to be a bonding camp held at the compound or just some of the partners arriving unannounced, so he always had to be ready for guests. It wouldn’t do to be all stooped over if they arrived and asked him to join in a session in the play room for some “bonding.”
Once he had put all of his tools away, Sam headed for his room and a hot shower. Hopefully that would take care of the pain. If not, well, he could give Missy a call.
Stepping into the spray of hot water, Sam turned his back to it and lowered his head, letting it pound him. Leaning forward, he placed his hands on the opposite wall, and moved so that the hot spray hit the exact spot he felt the pain. It felt good, but he didn’t think it was going to take care of the twinges. After ten minutes of standing like that, he decided to finish up with his shower and give Missy a call. Her hands roaming over his body was bound to feel better than just a shower.
Wrapping a towel around his hips, he left the bathroom and entered his living room. Sam’s suite at the compound wasn’t luxurious, but it was roomy and comfortable. It was home and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. He picked up the handset of the phone and dialed the spa, Solitude.
It rang four times, and Sam was almost ready to hang up then he heard a voice on the other end.
“Solitude. Missy speaking.”
The sound of her voice struck a chord in him. It was breathy and sweet at the same time. Very sexy. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? “Missy, this is Sam.”
“Well hello, Sam. What can I do for you?”
“After you left, I seem to have pulled something in my lower back. I was wondering if that offer for a massage still stands.”
“How bad is it? Can you move?” The concern was evident in her voice.
Sam chuckled. “I can move. I’m not that old and decrepit.”
“Sam, for goodness’ sake, I didn’t mean anything of the sort. I just wanted to assess the extent of the damage.”
Extent of the damage? What is she saying? “I don’t think there’s much ‘damage,’ but it’s definitely a pulled muscle or something.” Sam frowned, wondering if he had hurt himself worse than what he had first thought.
“Well, come on over. I don’t have much going on right now, and I can give you a good massage and then we’ll go from there.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“See you then.” Missy hung up.
Sam clicked off the handset and placed it back in the charging station. He moved into his bedroom, whipped off the towel, and pulled on his robe. No sense in getting dressed when he was going to be lying on a massage table.
Ten minutes later, he walked into the spa to find Missy arranging bottles of oils beside a massage table. She looked up when he closed the door. “There you are,” she said, turning toward him and smiling. With a tilt of her head and a quick wink, she placed her hands on her hips and said, “Okay, Sam, get naked.”
Chapter Three
Missy had busied herself with restocking her oils and lotions after returning to the spa. Her hand was feeling fine where Sam had removed the splinter, but getting him out of her head was going to be nowhere near as easy as removing the shard of wood from her hand. She continued working, pulling the crisp white sheets from the dryer that was in the spa laundry and folding them just so to be placed on the shelf beside her favorite massage table.
Sam Rodgers seemed to be constantly on her mind these days. Her only problem with it was she wasn’t sure if his feelings were leaning the same way toward her. Missy shook out a sheet, snapping it in the air before folding it in half. She sure wished she knew where she stood with him. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so frustrated.
That was the thought floating through her mind now while she watched him move to her massage table and remove the robe he had shown up wearing tonight. Beneath it she was pleasantly surprised to see he wore nothing. She had been equally surprised when he had called but the emotion quickly turned to worry when he mentioned pulling something in his back and that was his reason for calling her.
Missy moved forward, coming up behind him. He stood naked, facing the massage table. God, he’s gorgeous. If he thinks being completely naked while I give him a massage will trip my trigger, he’s right. A little thrill zipped through her, but she shoved it away, getting her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Tell me where you’re experiencing pain, Sam.” She placed both hands palm down on his back at shoulder blade height. His skin was warm to the touch, as if the sun had left its kiss there.
“Lower,” he said. “About two inches below my waist level.”
Missy smoothed her hands, slowly and lightly, down his back, stopping at the point he had said.
A shudder ran through him, and he groaned.
Missy froze. “Does it hurt?”
He shook his head, tilting it back slightly. “No, not yet. Your hands moving over my skin actually feels quite good.”
She smiled and pressed her thumbs into his back, moving them in opposite directions toward his sides. “Tell me when I—”
“Ow!”
“—hit the spot.” She stopped all movement. “I’m guessing that ‘ow’ is the answer to my question.”
“Mmm, yeah. Mostly on the right side.”
Missy removed her hands and stepped back. “I’d say you most definitely did pull something. Can you get up onto the table by yourself?”
“I can manage.” He turned around to face her.
Missy rolled her tongue inside her mouth while trying to control the wash of heat creeping into her face. Sam Rodgers was not a shy man. He stood before her completely naked and looking her directly in the eye.
His brows drew together just before he gripped the massage table and hopped up on it. “Something wrong, Missy?”
She cleared her throat and clasped her hands together. “No, why?” she asked, smiling.
Sam swung around and lay down on the table on his stomach. After lifting his hips to adjust himself, he laid his head down, his face turned toward her. “You just had the oddest look on your face there for a moment. Are you going to be okay using that injured hand to give me a massage?”
She unclasped her hands, flexing the fingers of the one with the bandage on it. “I’m sure it will be fine.” She grabbed a fresh sheet from the shelf and whipped it open, then draped it over the chiseled globes of his very nice ass. Then she began going through her oils and lotions, trying to decide which one would do the most good. She pulled two bottles from her array, holding one in each hand. One was peppermint, which would be cooling. The other was cinnamon, which would heat up as she rubbed it in. Either would feel good but she wanted to give him some lasting relief.
Cinnamon was her choice. The heat it generated would help relax his strained muscles. “Okay,” she said, dropping the bottle of peppermint oil back into the basket she kept directly at the head of the table. “I’m going to get started. If something hurts too much, let me know.”
“Oh, I will,” he said with a bit of sarcasm.
She gave it right back to him. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had listened to me about being careful.” She held the bottle of oil over his lower back and squeezed.
He jerked. “Hey, that’s cold!”
She hadn’t had time to warm any of the oils like she normally did. “It’ll warm up,” she said, tucking the bottle beside his thigh. “Besides, let this be a lesson to you. You should listen to your masseuse about being more careful with your back.”
Sam started to say something, but when Missy’s fingers began to dance over his back through the slick oil, all he could do was groan.
Missy closed her eyes, her hands working the oil into his skin. His flesh was beginning to warm, along with her insides. Missy wanted to hear Sam groan like that when he was buried deep inside her. Her eyes popped open before she could fully visualize that scenario. She needed to stay focused on what she was doing.
Sam tucked his arms beneath his head and sighed. “It’s starting to warm up,” he murmured.
Missy put more force into her ministrations, mostly with her uninjured hand. She glanced at his face. His eyes were closed and he was smiling. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she asked.
He nodded his head without raising it or opening his eyes. “Very much.”
“The pain going away?”
“What pain?” He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.
Missy chuckled, working her hands across his back to the other side. “I’m glad I could make you feel better.”
“I always feel better when I’m with you.”
Missy’s heart skipped a beat. Did he mean that? How did he mean it? Emotionally or physically? Her stomach fluttered as she reached for the bottle of cinnamon oil. This time she didn’t squeeze the oil directly onto his skin. She poured it into her palm, then rubbed her hands together before transferring it to his back. Her bandage on her hand came off and she tossed it in the trash basket near her feet.
Now working on his upper back, she kneaded his shoulders. “I make you feel better, huh?”
He opened his eyes. “Yes. You do. I’m not sure how you feel, but it seems like you and I are growing closer. Does it seem like that to you?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.
The look in his eyes was that of a shy young man, wondering if he had said too much. It tugged at her heart strings.
Missy smiled down at him. “We are closer now that it’s just you and me, basically. Rachel has her man now.”
He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I like spending time with you. I’ve never been ‘close’ to anyone before.”
“Not even your family?” Her hands were tingling from the warming agent in the oil and the scent was beginning to make her mouth water.
“I never really had a family. My parents were my only close relatives and they never wanted anything to do with me. What about you? How are your family ties? You’ve never really told me about your relatives.”
Missy shrugged, shifting her position. “I only had my mom. I’ve never met my dad. I don’t even know if he’s alive, actually.”
“That’s too bad.” He glanced back at her again. “I hope you’re not seeing me as some sort of father figure.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, immediately lightening the moment.
Missy laughed, giving his shoulder a little slap. “Father figure—hell, no. for your information, Sam Rodgers, I think you’re about the sexiest, most desirable man this side of heaven.” She gulped, wanting to slap one of her oil-covered hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…oh god, I didn’t offend you, did I?” she stammered.
Sam pushed against the table, rising up, then swung his legs over the side, coming to a sitting position. He placed his hands on her waist and drew her in between his legs.
Missy rested her hands on his shoulders, keenly aware of every inch of his exposed flesh. She looked directly into those calm, seductive eyes of his and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Was she in trouble?
“I want your complete attention because I’m only going to say this once.” His voice was soft, yet commanding. “You could never offend me by saying something like that. As a matter of fact, I’d like to hear you say it again.” He gazed at her, unblinking and silent.
After a moment she realized he was waiting for her
to say something. “Are you serious?” she asked, her voice almost squeaky. “You really want me to say it?”
He nodded, not speaking.
Her nerves were beginning to jitter. Something was changing between them. Even the air around them seemed to take on a sultry heaviness. Missy felt a bead of sweat slip between her breasts, traveling through her cleavage and down. She swallowed, then ran her tongue over her lips. His eyes followed its path. Her nipples tightened, the sensual way he was looking at her now making her want to press herself to him.
Missy drew in a deep breath and locked her gaze on his. “I think you, Sam Rodgers, are the sexiest, most desirable man this side of heaven.”
His pupils flashed wider, as if he was taking as much of her in as he could. “Do you mean that sincerely?”
“Yes.” She slowly traced circles on his shoulders.
His hands tightened on her waist, his fingers digging into the bare flesh that was exposed between the bottom of her sports bra and the top of her shorts. “Tell me more about this feeling you have for me. Is it just a sexual ‘bonding camp’ type of thing?”
Missy shifted her hips forward. She was in too deep to back out now. “It is, but it isn’t.”
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not understanding.”
Missy let her hands drift down from his shoulders to rest on his chest. “I’ve watched you during bonding sessions. I love the way you move, the sounds you make. I’d like to be included in a session with you some time.”
One corner of his mouth rose in a crooked smile. “I’m surprised you haven’t been included in one of mine yet. Have you talked to the partners about it?”
She tilted her head down and looked up at him through her lashes. “No, I haven’t. I didn’t want to seem like I was meddling in their affairs. You and I both know bonding sessions are for gauging new associates’ openness to sharing their needs and desires. The partners want to be sure about the loyalty of the people they allow into the firm. I wouldn’t want to interfere with that in any way.”