Page 98 of Rush of Jealousy

When he returns, I get scooped back up and then lowered into a sea of bubbles. I moan at the sensory overload. The bordering candles are lit, flickering around the walls of the room.

Graham joins me from behind. His hands wrap around my midsection, and warm lips breeze across my neck, traveling up to nuzzle against my sensitive ear lobe. I melt farther into him as I rest my butt between his legs.The man is good.

My lobe feels the prickle of his sharp teeth, and I groan in response to the pulsing sensation that shoots down my torso. I swear I hear him mutter something about me liking itrough. I can’t argue the truth.

I stare out of the surrounding windows, seeing only the changing leaves and a partial view of the lake. Surely, Graham owns enough land around his lake house to keep this particular room private from any neighbors or curious eyes.

As I adjust to the water, my skin tingles from the heat and Graham’s expert hands. He moves me from his lap, and I sit on the adjacent bench. He finds my feet in the abyss of bubbles and massages the soles. I slink into the side of the tub and rest my head and neck against the rim—my body completely hidden under the surface.

He pulls my foot from the water to kiss my big toe and then repeats the same action on the other foot. “Did you mean what you said back there?” he asks, looking at me for a reaction.

I said a lot of things, but I know which specific words he is referencing, because I was shocked over my declaration as well. “Yes. It felt weird saying it finally after all this time, when deep down I think I knew all along.”

“I’m glad you didn’t wait a second longer.”

I melt farther into the water as his fingers press along my arches. “I love when you rub me like this.”

His smile is genuine. I actually think he likes to perform services like this for me. He never makes it seem like a chore to touch me and almost always initiates. His hands slide up my calves and massage the tension out of my muscles. He hedges his way farther up my legs and I welcome him. I flinch when he makes contact with my pussy, not even aware of how sore I am.

His eyes dart to mine. “I hurt you?”

“Still getting used to your size. It’s a good sore.”

He gives a small nod. “I should have spent more time prepping you.”

“I don’t mind being sore, Graham. I actually kind of like the reminder of where you’ve been.”

His thumb teases my opening but doesn’t enter. I get pulled onto his lap and our bodies slide against each other. We share a kiss and then he turns me to face away. This time he presses his fingers into the tense muscles of my neck. I groan and shift in the water as his hands go to work at the knots and tension being stored in my joints and tissues. He chuckles at my moaning that I cannot hide or mask. The feeling is incredible, and I never want it to stop. His hands move to the front of my neck and dip down to my clavicle bones and then back up over my throat. His minor choke-holds cause pleasure pulses to travel through my nervous system. He is careful not to press too hard and knows exactly where to place each pad of his fingertips to produce the exquisite feeling that keeps me wanton and pliable putty in his hands.

After the massage, Graham uses a cup to wet the top of my hair. Every time I try to resist and do things for myself, he hushes me and coaxes me into submission with his soft lips on my neck and ears.

“I’m enjoying this as much as you are,” he whispers, sending tingles up my spine. “Let me take care of you. Just relax.”

My face is damp from the thin layer of sweat. Graham squeezes sweet smelling shampoo in his palm and runs his lathered hands into my scalp. I wiggle and twitch at the amazing feeling of having my hair played with and washed. If I thought that nothing could top the neck massage, I stand corrected. The hair therapy session is by far my favorite act. After I am rinsed, Graham reaches behind me to the basket of supplies and takes out a wide-toothed comb. He gently brushes through my long locks, getting out the knots. His attention and gentleness make me smile and close my eyes as he cares for me. When the water starts to cool and my skin reaches full prune-like status, I am lifted and wrapped in a towel the size of a blanket.

Once dried off, I slip into a fluffy white robe and am taken back to the room where I am presented with a beautiful red and black striped skirt and a red silk long-sleeved blouse. It’s a bit bolder than what I would typically wear, but the quality of the fabric and seams spell designer. The ensemble includes a silver belt, red-soled high heels, and a black clutch. I resist getting giddy over expensive footwear and frown at the amount of money that the outfit must have cost.

“You are worth it, sweetheart,” he intercepts my thoughts, making me shiver at how he knew what I was thinking. “You are going to look amazing in this, I just know it. We will be leaving in forty-five minutes. Is that enough time?”

I nod. “Where are—” I start to ask but stop, knowing that it is pointless. He loves to surprise me. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“This is just a small taste of how I am going to spoil you.”

I bite my bottom lip and then release it. “What would you have done if I won the game?”

He shrugs. “I never planned to lose.”

I roll my eyes. “Bye, Graham.”

“Goodbye, Angie.”

I admire his retreating backside as the door is shut, and I am left alone with my thoughts and a whirlwind of emotions. We must be alone if he is walking around without clothes on in this house. Either that or he just doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks of him.

I dig through my supply bag and find the tools needed to prepare my face, body, and hair for the date. As I finger the clothes set out for me on the bed, I find a thin black box with a white ribbon and bow across the top. My breath catches. I take the box into the bathroom and place it on the vanity. I pull at the bow and lift the lid, pushing back the tissue paper to reveal a beautiful red and black bra and panty set, with black nylons and matching garter belt. Along the side of the lingerie, there is a smaller silver box with Jealousy’s logo embossed along the top. I open it to reveal a necklace. Diamonds make up the length and sparkle in the light from the sky window.

Holy shit.

I finger the stones and marvel at the gesture Graham has done. I fasten the chain around my neck and cannot stop staring at the glistening diamonds in the mirror. I guess the perk of being with the CEO of a jewelry company is that I get to model some of his creations. Or perhaps he’s still pissed over Zander’s gift to me from California.

---