Page 52 of That Geeky Feeling

16

CHARLOTTE

Unbelievable. This is un-fucking-believable.

I’m sitting on a bed, Elliot prone in front of me, both of us wearing only T-shirts and underwear, with him waiting for me to massage his back.

If I weren’t working for him and, more importantly, he wasn’t my completely off-limits boss’s brother who’s in so much pain he can barely move, this would be the hottest thing I can think of other than flying directly into the sun.

Oh yeah, and this loin-tingling nightmare’s decided to happen right when we should be getting the hell out of here to assess the disaster zone at the tech hub. I don’t even know yet if I can fix that up in time for the launch without a minor miracle. Or even a major one.

Yet here I am. Staring at a firm, hot backside in boxers and the sexy thighs attached to it. The faint hairs on the backs of his legs glint in the early morning light creeping through the gap between the curtains.

And now I have to get under that T-shirt, put my hands on his bare skin, and try to perform the other miracle of restoring his ability to walk.

Without getting massively turned on. That will likely require miracle number three.

“Everything okay?” Elliot asks. “It really is fine. You can go ahead.”

“Yes. Sorry.” I rub my palms together. “Just warming up my hands.” Like these clammy things need any help being warm right now. “Didn’t want to make you jump and cause you more pain.”

“Lying here has eased it a bit already,” he says. And I can tell from the tone of his voice that he is a bit less tense.

I lift the hem of his T-shirt from where it rests on his butt, revealing an expanse of fair skin that dips into the valley of his spine.

“Your muscles are probably happy to be straightened out. Contorting yourself in those chairs all night was never going to be good for you. If I’d remembered the baseball injury thing, I would have absolutely insisted you take the bed.”

“I thought you were going to skip the I-told-you-so’s,” he mumbles.

“You are in no position to give me a hard time. I could get up and walk right out of here and there’d be nothing you could do until housekeeping found you and trundled you out on one of their carts.”

“I’ll try to behave. But it’s hard not to tease you at the best of times, never mind in this ridiculous situation.”

He’s definitely right about this being ridiculous.

The thought of touching his exposed flesh is the strangest combination of thrilling and terrifying. Kind of how I imagine skydiving might be. Except there’s no parachute to save me here.

“Can you show me where it hurts?”

He reaches around and presses a spot to the right of the base of his spine just above the waistband of his boxers. “I think it starts here. Then spreads out to both sides.”

This is the point of no return. I can’t put it off any longer. There’s no one else to help him. I have to. I want to. And that means I absolutely must put my hands on him.

I lower them gently to his body, sensing the warmth rising from his skin as I get closer and closer to the surface.

As I make contact, he flinches almost imperceptibly. Or was that me? Maybe it was both of us.

“Is that okay?” I ask.

“Very,” he says quietly. “Your hands are warm.”

“Good. I’m going to apply some pressure. Tell me if anything hurts. Even the tiniest bit.”

His head nods against the bed.

I press my palm on his lower back muscle and move it in slow circles.

My breath immediately becomes heavier.

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