Page 18 of Beached Wedding

“I don’t mind if it’s open.” I glanced at Fox.

He nod-shrugged, looking as panic-lost as I felt.

“Good. Ashley why don’t you sit on the edge of the table here.” Inga patted the massage table. “And Fox if you leave your robe on, but drop it off your shoulders? Expose as much of your back— Perfect,” she said as Fox turned his back and loosened the robe, catching the terrycloth on his bent elbows while making sure to keep the bottom half closed.

Inga adjusted the collar where it draped across his lower back and steered him with a hand on his upper arm. “Now stand in front of Ashley. Open your legs,” she instructed me.

“I thought you were going to demonstrate,” I said, thinking my voice sounded thin.

“It’s a practical lesson.” Inga cheerfully pressed Fox into place.

Fox seemed clumsy for the first time in his life. He gave me a look over his shoulder that could only be described as a cat going into a carrier that held the smell of the vet.

I hesitated, but Inga took hold of my knee and,Whoop. I wound up splaying my thighs to give Fox a space to back into. I swallowed as my knees sank into the folds of robe draping his flat hips. My vision filled with the wall of his contoured back.

“Ikaika’s handout will summarize all the tips I give you and includes a map to guide you through a fifteen-minute massage. That’s usually a nice amount of time so you’re both fully relaxed, but not so tired you can’t do other things.” Inga winked.

Hahaha. I bit back growing hysteria. “We’re not actually, um, lovers.” My throat dried up on the word.

“You’re saving it for the wedding night? How sweet!” Inga moved to get the oil.

Fox swung a look over his shoulder again, astounded hilarity widening his eyes.

I slapped my hand over my mouth and made an agreeing, “Mmm-hmm,” noise.

He dipped his head and his shoulders jerked with suppressed laughter.

Shane was going to get such a kick out of this, I thought with a private giggle, then sobered as reality rolled back in like a storm surge.

“This will be good for you,” Inga was saying as she came back. She tipped a dime-sized spot of oil into my palm. “It will help you get used to touching each other. You want to rub your palms to warm it.” She rubbed her dry hands together to demonstrate. “When you touch your partner, relax your hands. Tell him with your touch that he should relax. The more surface you touch, the more relaxing the massage.”

I held my hands above Fox’s shoulders, sensing his tension as he waited. Tentatively I set my oily hands against his skin. He was warm and smooth and his hard muscles flexed under my hesitant strokes. Goosebumps came up on his arm. I instinctively drifted my hand there to smooth them away.

His tricep twitched and the hollow of his spine deepened.

A weird swirling sensation, like laughter but different, accosted the pit of my belly. My scalp prickled and I had to consciously draw my next breath. I was hyper-aware of the width of Fox’s hips between my splayed knees. Of the little knicks and scars on his skin from being tumbled in the waves.

“I, um...” Fox cleared his throat. “I had a physiotherapist work on my leg when I pulled a hamstring. He did a deep tissue thing.” He sounded gruff. His shoulders seemed to be hardening, not relaxing beneath my touch. “Shouldn’t she be digging in with her thumbs?”

“You can bruise the muscle if you don’t know what you’re doing. That’s not very romantic. Leave the serious treatment to the experts and let this be a sensual experience. Long, sweeping strokes,” Inga coached, motioning for me to paint the oil across every inch of skin I could reach. “Any time you can’t think of what to do, go back to these long, easy strokes. It can be very hypnotic for both of you.”

It was. I was trying to dismiss this as an objective task like washing a wall, but Fox’s skin was drum tight across firm muscles. I couldn’t remember ever touching a man so thoroughly and deliberately. Not without being in a lip lock or other intimate scenario. It was like petting a big, powerful animal. Soothing, yet dangerous. Exciting.

“Do you like it?” Inga asked Fox. “Tell her. You’ll want to remember to do that during sex, too. Communication is everything.”

“Oh, my God.” I and lifted my hands off his back. I wanted to bury my face in them, but they were covered in oil.

Fox hitched his robe into place, chuckling dryly.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Why don’t you take over, Fox?”

“I think we’ve got it.” He yanked his belt tight before he faced me. His cheeks were going red and there was a persecuted light in his eyes.Please get me out of this.

I opened my mouth to let him off the hook, but Inga spoke again, cajoling, “You’ll want him to know how to rub your feet if plan to get pregnant.”

I met Fox’s thunderstruck expression and the absurdity couldn’t be contained any longer. We burst out laughing.

ASHLEY

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