Page 29 of It's Holy Matrimony, Baby

“You don’t need to—”

“I want to. Take off your shirt.”

His eyes widen and then crinkle around the edges while he bites his lip, but he doesn’t say whatever he’s thinking. I’m pretty sure it would be something along the lines of me wanting to get my hands on him for sexual purposes. That’s not what this is. It’s not.

Lowering myself to my knees, I move behind him as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a wide expanse of bronze skin and muscles. He’s so knotted and tight. His shoulders are like a rock, his neck stiff. I work my fingers into the knots, feeling them loosen under my hands. He groans and cusses under his breath as I massage, until his muscles start to relax.

“You should lay down.” I move my hands down to his shoulder blades. The angle isn’t good.

“You sure?” he asks over his shoulder.

“It would be easier that way.”

“Okay.” He exhales deeply, his back pushing into my hands.

I move aside so he can change positions. He stretches out on the carpet on his stomach and rests his head on his arms. “This better?”

“Yes. Yep. That’s better.” I hesitate to put my hands on him again, but he needs this. He’s in pain. That’s more important than whether I get butterflies in the pit of my stomach or my hands tingle from touching him. I’m a responsible adult with the ability to control my own impulses. I don’t need to give in to the magnetic energy that creates a spark between us.

Smoothing my palms down his spine, I hold my breath while I wait for the electricity between us to subside before I straddle him. Pressing my knees into the carpet at his hips, I dig my hands into his muscles to release the tension. They loosen under my touch.

“You have magic hands,” he says after a while. “Where did you learn to do this?”

“Spending a lot of time in hotels, I’ve had a lot of massages.” I slide my hands up both sides of his spine. All the way up until his hair tickles my fingers. “Talked to a lot of masseurs. I picked up a few tricks.”

I bend low over him as I squeeze the muscles in his neck and at his jaw. I have to hold my breath. I’m close enough to catch his scent. He moans as I drag my hands back down to the curve of his ass where I pulled his jeans lower. The sound rumbles from somewhere deeper than muscles releasing. I make a small involuntary noise in the back of my throat that echoes his.

“You should stop.” He catches my hand at his hip. Holds it there. “Unless you want something more from me than you’re letting on. Two years is a long time to go without, Beck.”

Telling me that should have the same affect as a bucket of ice cold water, but it doesn’t. Then again perhaps not even ice water could stop the needy heat that spreads up my inner thighs to my belly when he tells me he hasn’t been with anyone else. And two years is such an awfully long time.

He releases my hand. His body is so still. Every breath he takes is deep and quiet as though he’s dozed off. He’s giving me the option. Laying my choices out for me to decide.

It’s too much. It’s too tempting. My boobs get tight and heavy. My panties are soaked. He can probably tell from the way I’m straddling him. Still he doesn’t move.

Deliberately, I slide my hands from his hips to his shoulders.

“That your answer?” His voice is gravelly and rough, filled with tension.

I can barely find mine. There’s a lump in my throat and too much saliva in my mouth. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he asks in a softer voice, the tension easing.

“Yes.” I nod though he can’t see it.

I almost lose my balance when he twists to wrap his arm around my waist. Lifting me up, he rolls onto his back and sets me down. Only this time I’m straddling his front, his hard bulge nestled against my panties. He’s rigid through the thick material of his jeans while he stares into my eyes. Curling up, he threads his fingers into my hair and pulls me down on top of him as he brushes his lips over mine. I open eagerly and our tongues stroke against one another.

One big hand locks around my hip and pushes me down on his erection. “You feel that, Beck?”

“Yes.” I breathe into our kiss. I feel it. Feel him. Want it. Want to know what I don’t remember. Even the hazy edges of recollection melt my insides.

He kisses me again. Easy but certain. He’s confident in his actions, knows exactly what he’s doing. “It’s all for you. But you’re gonna have to undo my pants.”

Another flush of arousal rushes through me and I whimper. I’m hot and achy and squirming for more of his naked body against mine as I slide backwards so that I can undo his fly. The metal tines of the zip when they’re almost stretched to breaking point make a loud noise as I tug it down.

His hands are on my knees, fingers hooked behind them. He squeezes lightly, and I glance up to find him watching me. It makes my heart race. “Like what you see?”

“Yes, Angel.” His gaze grows hotter. “I like it. Now why don’t you wrap your hand around my cock, like we both know you want to.”

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