Page 62 of Resting Beach Face
“No, I…I like it,” I admitted in surprise. “Don’t stop flirting. You wouldn’t be you if you did.”
He smiled faintly. “Okay. Then take off my shirt, baby. I’m ready.”
He added a ridiculous wink that reassured me he was just playing.
I grabbed the hem, tugging it up and over his head. Cash lifted his arms, and I could tell he was still hurting by the slow way he moved. I draped his shirt over the empty chair beside him, then started on his shoulders again.
His skin was a nice toasty tan this far into the summer and hot as a summer day under my hands. I kneaded his shoulders, waiting for him to relax before I dug into the problem areas. Cash exhaled and sank back against my hands, slowly melting as I worked at him.
I traced my thumbs along his shoulder blades, pressing in, then used my other fingers to rub and knead his upper back and neck. Slowly, I worked out each knot.
His body was firm but malleable, and it was the first time in a long time I’d touched a man this way, skin to skin.
Cash’s breath grew a little uneven, and I glanced down to check he was okay. My gaze slipped over his chest and abs, moving with each breath, to the very obvious hard-on in his pants.
I froze.
“Sorry,” he muttered, pressing the heel of his hand to his erection. “It’s just my damn body liking this massage. I know nothing’s going to happen.”
Those words, more than anything else, made me relax. “You must want some relief.”
“Later,” he said. “I’d suffer a hundred hard-ons to spend a little more time with you.”
My heart stuttered. Was that romantic? Itfeltpretty romantic. “Do you mean that? You’d really…”
“Yeah,” he said. “But if you want it to go away, maybe let me put my shirt back on.”
He started to move, but I brought my hands back to his shoulders, keeping him in place. “Wait.”
“Okay…”
“If you wanted to, uh, touch yourself while I do this?—”
Cash whipped his head to look at me, and I gently guided him to face forward again.
“I don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I’m fine.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s why I want you to do it.”
“You…” His breath caught and his hand went to his crotch, hovering uncertainly. “You actuallywantme to?”
“I want to see you feel good,” I murmured in his ear. “Touch yourself for me?”
“Fuck.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “Okay. Damn. Anything you want.”
“Then open your pants.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cash
Declan’shot breath caressed my neck as he spoke into my ear, and the last of my blood rushed south so fast my head spun.
I tried to keep my wits about me, but once Declan said hewantedthis too, my brain shut off. My body vibrated with need, and sitting here shirtless while he put those work-callused hands all over me had been a torturous test of my self-restraint.
I fumbled with the button and zipper on my shorts, my handsshakingI was so worked up. This wasDeclanstandingbehind me. Declan, whose hands still stroked over my shoulders. Declan, who was always off-limits…
My pants opened, and I slipped a hand inside, grasping my cock with a low groan of relief. I hesitated a moment, enough sense restored to wonder if hereallywanted to see me desperate and horny.
