Page 13 of Climb Me Maybe
Connor's eyebrows climb toward his hairline."Reacted how?"
I’mnotspelling it out."You know how."
Understanding dawns on his face, followed by what looks suspiciously like relief."Jesus, man.You pitched a tent?That'swhat this is about?"
I make sure no one else is around that heard him, then glare.“Shit.Keep your voice down.I’m supposed to see her again today, and I?—"
"Got hard during a massage," Connor finishes."Welcome to being a red-blooded male, Brady.It happens."
"Not to me it doesn't."The words come out sharper than intended."I don't...I'm not used to..."
"To what?Attractive women putting their hands all over you?"Connor's grin is merciless."Yeah, that'll do it."
My jaw clenches."She's a professional.I don't want to make her uncomfortable."
"Did she seem uncomfortable yesterday?"
I think about Imogen's easy confidence, the way she handled everything without judgment."No, but she didn’t see it.I was face down.Today, I might be?—"
"You’re overthinking it.Like you said…she’s a professional.I’m sure it happens all the time."Connor leans forward."Look, if you're really worried, take care of business beforehand.Takes the edge off."
"Take care of—" I stare at him."You mean..."
"Rub one out, Brady.Whack off.Dammit, do I have to draw you a diagram?"
I nearly choke, my face going up in flames."I can't believe I'm having this conversation."
“You’re a forty-three-year old virgin, not a Catholic schoolboy.Welcome to a healthy sexual discussion," Connor says cheerfully.
“Why does it seem like you’re enjoying this?”I ask.
“Because I am.”He chuckles.“It’s kinda fun to see the ‘zen master’ getting all flustered.Oh, how the tables have turned.”
I huff loudly.“Whatever.Just promise me you won't tell Teagan we talked about this."
He snorts."Like I want to talk aboutyourboners withmywife.Your secret's safe."
* * *
Back at my cabin, my grandfather’s proverb curdles in my throat:Discipline shapes the man.
Somehow I don’t think he was talking about...this.But who knows anymore.These days all I do is question myself.
Then Connor's advice pushes its way through.
It makes sense, in a mortifying, practical way.If I'm going to lie on that table again and let Imogen's incredible hands work my body into submission, I need to have some semblance of control.
I grab my phone and find Imogen’s website photo—pink hair, sexy smile, nose stud.I imagine her biting that sweet lower lip.
This feels so dirty…forbidden even.
Tearing off my clothes, I set the phone down and head to the shower.
The hot water eases the morning stiffness from my muscles.I soap my chest, thinking about yesterday, and how Imogen's fingers explored my back, the little sounds of concentration she made when she found a particularly stubborn knot.
Her low, soothing voice haunts me.“Breathe into it…”
My cock stirs, and I wrap my hand around it almost without thinking.The soap makes my palm slick, and I stroke slowly, letting myself remember the heat of her touch, the scent from the oils she used.
