Page 21 of The Mafia's Quadruplets

“I got my first one at sixteen,” Valerian says. “The rest came over time, marking different Chapters of my life.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “That must have been painful.”

“Pain is temporary,” he says. “The meaning lasts forever.”

His words hang in the air between us. I work in silence for a few moments, mulling over the glimpses into his past.

“What about you, Claire?” Valerian asks suddenly. “Do you have any tattoos?”

I laugh softly. “No, nothing so permanent. I’m more of a temporary henna kind of girl.”

“Ah, the impermanence appeals to you?”

“I guess I like the idea of change. Of not being stuck with one decision forever.”

Valerian hums thoughtfully. “Sometimes, the permanence is what gives something its value.”

I consider his words as I finish working on his legs. “Maybe you’re right,” I say softly, “But sometimes it’s the fleeting moments that are the most precious.”

As I step back, signaling the end of the massage, something has shifted between us. The air feels charged, electric.

He sits up slowly, the sheet pooling around his waist. His eyes meet mine, intense and unreadable. “Thank you, Claire. That was... enlightening.”

I swallow hard, suddenly very aware of how close we are. “You’re welcome. I hope it helped with the tension.”

A smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, it most certainly did.” He stretches languidly.

I avert my gaze as he reaches for his robe, but it’s impossible to miss his huge erection, even though I only view it peripherally.

“Much better.” He ties the belt loosely, almost hiding the bulge. Almost. “You have a gift, Claire.”

I busy myself with cleanup, hyperaware of his presence and trying not remember the glimpse of his cock. “I’m glad I could help.”

He steps closer, and I force myself to meet his gaze. His eyes are intense, searching. “Thank you for the massage, and for sharing a bit of yourself with me.”

I nod, my pulse unsteady. “Same time tomorrow?”

A small smile curves his lips. “Whatever I need.”

He turns and walks out, leaving the air charged behind him.

I let out a shaky breath. What have I gotten myself into?

I rush out of the massage room, my heart skittering and skin flushed. The hallway feels too small and too confining after that far too sensual massage. I didn’t treat him any differently than any other patient, but there’s no pretending it didn’t feel different. I’ve never been aroused massaging a patient before, until now. I need air. I need space. I need to get away from Valerian and the effect he has on me.

My suite is nearby, but even as I close the door behind me, I still feel the heat of Valerian’s skin under my hands. The memory of his muscled back, the curve of his spine, and the way he groaned when I rubbed his ass all floods back, making me dizzy.

“Get it together, Claire,” I mutter, pressing my palms against my burning cheeks.

The bathroom beckons, promising relief. I strip off my clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. It’s so unlike me, but I can’t bring myself to care right now. The shower knob squeaks as I turn it, cold water cascading down.

I step under the icy spray, gasping as it hits my overheated skin. The shock of it should clear my head and wash away the lingering sensations of Valerian’s body beneath my hands. Instead, it only seems to heighten every nerve ending.

My mind wanders, conjuring images unbidden of Valerian’s strong hands on my waist. Trailing his lips down my neck. His body weight pressing me into the mattress…

“Stop it,” I say aloud, turning the water even colder. My teeth chatter, but the fantasies persist.

I stand under the frigid deluge until my lips turn blue, and my fingers prune. When I finally step out, I’m shivering violently, but the heat in my pussy refuses to be extinguished. Wrappingmyself in a fluffy towel, I pad into the bedroom. My suitcase sits open on a chair, and I rummage through it, looking for something—anything—to distract me. My fingers brush against the spine of a book, and I pull it out. A historical romance novel. Perfect.

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