Page 86 of Where We Belong

“Come on, Crabby. Flip over.”

I pause as he stands and walks over to the couch. I’d have expected to sit between his knees to give him access to my shoulders, but I guess he wants this to be a full-on massage.

When he sees I haven’t moved, he gives me an expectant look.

I gulp but do as he asked.

The second I feel his body approaching mine, I know this was a giant mistake. My stomach tightens as Finn climbs over me and straddles my backside, his knees barely fitting on the small couch. My body somehow finds a way to tighten even more, now for a whole different reason. I should’ve kept my muscle strain. It would’ve been better than feeling this urge to turn around and jump my friend.

However, once his warm, large hands land on my shoulders, I let out a sigh of relief. God, this feels good. He starts rubbing with the perfect pressure, not too much that I scream in pain, but hard enough that I feel the loosening of the tensions in my body.

“Relax,” he says above me, his deep voice sensual, or maybe that’s just my horny mind imagining it this way.

His thumbs rub a little lower, this time at the level of my shoulder blades, digging into the hard knots and making me groan.

“You’re really tight in there,” he says as he picks at a particularly strong knot, and when I start chuckling, he joins me. “Sorry, that was too easy.”

“You’re the worst,” I answer, not believing my words for even one second.

Once he reaches the level of my bra and massages on top of it, I feel like telling him to remove it so I can feel his hands better, but that would be the dumbest thing I could do, so I stay quiet. That doesn’t mean my body does the same. I’m so jolted up it feels like every one of his touches could send me over the edge. Goosebumps cover whichever area he brushes by mistake, my breathing is loud and shallow, and I would be embarrassed if only this didn’t feel so good.

Trying to shift my thoughts, I ask, “So who’d you give massages to?”

“Jealous?”

“No,” I lie. I can’t forget Finn has a past that’s probably a hundred times more extensive than mine, but I also can’t blame him for it either. He had every right to get all the fun he could. He still does. Maybe he does get it and I’m just unaware of it.

That thought causes me more pain than I’d care to admit.

“Just curious to know where you got those skills,” I say.

“You’ll be happy to know I only ever give massages to my mom after a hard day in the gym,” he says. “Although maybe I should monetize my talent.”

“No,” I blurt out. “I mean, you’re not that good anyway.”

“Really?” he asks, reaching a spot in my lower back that almost has me rolling my eyes back. “That why you’re squirming under me?”

Am I? Oh god, I think I am. I force stillness into my body, but it’s too late. He knows everything he needs to.

“You know what? I think I’m all back in shape now.”

“Wait, I still have your legs to do.” His gaze meets mine over my shoulder, darker than they were when he started. “Is that still okay?”

I hesitate. Once again, it’s not really okay, but only because of how much I want it. Of what his touch does to me. Having his hands rubbing on my thighs would be another terrible idea.

But I must be a masochist, because I nod.

Shifting so he’s seated on my feet, Finn’s hands land high on the back of my upper thighs, which are as tense as my back was. No movement he does is inherently sexual, the push of his fingers in my skin purely to help with the strain, and yet something clenches in my belly at every new touch. It’s like I anticipate him everywhere.Wanthim everywhere.

“You good?” he asks.

“Mmhmm.” Too good, in fact. After that, I’ll run home to use my vibrator, and I know damn well who I’ll be thinking about when I come.

Oh god. I’m the worst “just friend” in the entire world.

He gets to my calves, a zone I had no idea was erogenous but clearly is. My skin is moist, and Finn’s living room feels like a hundred degrees. I’m burning up under him, and I pray to all that is holy that he doesn’t notice it. Because if he does, I don’t think I’ll be able to lie. Not about this. Not when my body probably shows just how much I want him.

Once he’s done with both of my calves, he clears his throat and says, “Do you want me to do the front?”

---