“Fine,”he grumbled. “What do I need to do?”
“Justsit still.”
“Anythingelse?”
“I’mgoing to unbutton the top three buttons of your shirt. Try not to cry like ababy.”
“Whatever,asshole.”
Ialways believed that mistakes were like dominoes. After the first one came thesecond, then the third, and so on. My first mistake was inviting him here. Hewas a bad decision waiting to happen, and the one I couldn’t afford to make,but my willpower had been dwindling lately. The massage was my second mistake,but I suggested it and had no choice but to go through with it. I only hopedthis evening would end before I could make a mistake number three.
Eagerto get it over with, I unbuttoned the top button on his shirt and then fumbledwith the next one, cursing my fingers that wouldn’t cooperate. Clumsily, Iundid the third button, but the simple task made me more breathless thanclimbing K2 would. When I started to knead the muscles in his shoulders, he letout a sound. Not quite a moan, but something.
“Doesit hurt?” I asked him, massaging the tense area.
Heshook his head, breathing deeply. “No. Don’t fucking stop.”
JesusChrist.
“Ok-kay,”I stammered. “How about this? Good?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Hisskin was warm to the touch, his muscles stiff, but I could feel them relaxafter a while. When I moved my fingers to his neck, my gaze fell on hisnecklace. I reached for the cross pendant, glancing at him, but his eyes wereclosed.
“Whatdoes it mean to you?” I asked him since I knew he wasn’t devout.
“Myroots. It represents that I came from somewhere, although it’s not where Ibelong.”
“Haveyou found it? A place to belong, I mean.”
Heshook his head decisively. “Nah. Still searching.”
Ilowered the pendant to his chest, allowing my fingers to graze his skin. “Maybeit’s not a place, you know? Maybe it’s a person you’re looking for.”
Hehummed thoughtfully as I brought my hands to his back, kneading the muscleswith slow, even strokes. When my thumb found his trapezius, he flinched.
“Ow,”he grumbled, frowning. “Take it easy, big guy.”
Igrinned. “Sorry. I’ll kiss it better.”
“Don’teven joke about it.”
Ilowered my head and whispered in his ear. “Maybe I wasn’t joking.”
“MaybeI'll punch you sooner rather than later.”
When Istarted to massage his neck, he closed his eyes.
“Fuck,this feels good,” he breathed. “Don’t… oh, my God, don’t stop!”
“Iwon’t stop,” I said hoarsely, shifting in my seat. Inconspicuously, I slid myhand to my crotch and rearranged my erection, ignoring the beads of sweatforming on my back. I was fine until I touched his chest. Well, I had a semi,but I was fine. Now, I wasn’t fine anymore.
“Mmm,”he hummed, unaware of my predicament. “Fuck… this feels amazing. Oh, my God.”
Hiswords made me smile despite the fire burning in my groin.
“Areyou always this loud, Carter?”