Page 43 of Snowbound with the Santas

“If you tell me, then I will try,” I say, stepping further into the room. Using one hand, I close the door behind me.

Rayne lifts her chin and her striking blue eyes lock onto me. When her rosy lips part, I hope to hear the truth. Instead, she deflects once more.

“There’s nothing wrong. I’m just sore from the hike. I’m not a very active person and these last two days have been a lot.”

The hike. Her and Frankie sure had a fun time, and I had no idea my jealousy could burn so hot. “The hike.”

“Yes,” she says flatly. “So, how can you help with that, hmm? Tell me to take a shower? Like that will help with my sore muscles.”

“It will,” I reply, slowly walking toward her. “But that’s not my advice. My advice would be to let me help you.”

“How?” The hollow of her neck deepens as she swallows.

“I know how to do a deep-tissue massage. Given the trauma to your leg after the crash and how you’ve been walking, it mightbe exactly what you need. Since, as you say, that’s the only thing that’s wrong.”

Rayne’s eyes narrow slightly. “For a man of few words, you sure talk a lot when we’re alone.”

“Less background noise.” I shrug one shoulder. “So, do you want my help?”

“You’ll massage me?”

“That’s what I said.”

Rayne rocks back onto her heels, and I sense I’ve backed her into a corner. Will she keep up the façade that sore muscles are the reason she’s acting weird, or will she cave and tell me the truth?

“Alright,” Rayne says after a moment of hesitation. “If you can work your magic, I won’t ever doubt you again.”

“Massage it is. If you’d be so kind as to strip.”

Crimson flushes Rayne’s cheeks and she nods, then she turns her back to me and slowly takes off her clothes. Frankie’s rough shirt gives way to beautiful golden skin and a black bra. I try not to stare and instead quickly step out of the room to grab lotion from my own bedroom.

Upon my return, Rayne smiles a soft little smile like she’s sharing a secret with me, then she lays down on the bed with a soft sigh. “Alright then, work your magic.”

“Do you trust me?”

“We barely know each other,” she murmurs against her elbow.

“And yet here you are…” My breath catches in my throat as I step forward and lean one knee on the bed. “With sore muscles.”

“That’s all it is,” Rayne insists. “So either soothe me or get out.”

With a slow, gentle touch, I caress her back. Her skin jumps slightly underneath my fingertips as I stroke across her shoulders and brush her hair to one side.

“Try to breathe evenly,” I instruct her quietly. “It will make it easier.”

“Make what easier?” Rayne asks.

I coat my hands in lotion and start at her calf. My touch is gentle at first, caressing her calf with the lotion and slicking up her skin. Then I press my thumbs deep into her muscle tissue, and she yelps.

“Holy shit, ow,” Rayne groans.

“Told you.”

She mumbles something under her breath that sounds likemotherfucker. I smile to myself and continue.

It’s tough to keep my thoughts contained as I work, but her relaxation becomes my goal. While at first I wanted to delve into her thoughts, to ease her hidden pain, the tightness in her muscles becomes obvious after two passes. From her calf to her thigh, I travel with care and press my knuckles and fingers as deep as I can.

Rayne’s quiet whimpers slowly become slightly louder moans of pain as tension eases along her legs. Back and forth I work, moving in a rhythm that becomes like a dance up and down each of her legs. After rolling the sleeves of my shirt up, I discard it completely for ease and continue.

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