Page 14 of Climb Me Maybe
God, the way she looked at me.
I think about her hair falling into her eyes, the way her small hands glided over my skin.Those strong fingers that could find every hidden tension and coax it into surrendering.
What would those hands feel like on my cock?
The thought has me trembling.
My thumb swipes the slit, fantasizing it’s her tongue darting out to taste me.Her fingertips trail down my chest, nails dragging over my inner thigh, lips grazing my ear.
I lean against the shower wall, stroking faster as I imagine Imogen's whiskey-brown eyes watching me as she straddles the massage table, light reflecting off a sexy shoulder I want to bite.That confident smile spreads across her face as her hands slide lower, whispering…
"That's it.You’re doing so good…don't fight it."
“Fuck, Imogen,” I grit out, hips jerking.Muscle memory betrays me—every stroke synced to yesterday’s whispers of“you’re so tight here…let me…”
Reality and fantasy blur as I explode with more curses and a groan that echoes off the tile, my release washing away with the shower spray.
I stand there breathing hard, letting the water cascade over my shoulders.
Better.Definitely better.
Later, I’m standing outside her cabin again, feeling more centered.The edge is gone, replaced by something that feels almost like anticipation instead of dread.
I knock.
"Come in!"
Imogen's voice pulls me inside like a magnet.She's wearing yoga pants and a fitted tank top that shows off her toned arms and pretty tattoos.
"How are you feeling today?"she asks, her smile bright.“You definitely look more relaxed.”
Because I came all over myself thinking about you.
"Yep.”My voice cracks, but I press on.“I’m feeling good.Really good, actually."I gesture to my back."Whatever you did yesterday is working."
Her face lights up."I'm so glad.Any soreness?"
"Some, but it feels like proper soreness.Like I actually worked out instead of carrying tension around."
"Excellent."She moves to the massage table, smoothing the fresh sheet."Ready to go a little deeper today?"
The way she says it makes my pulse react, but I'm able to keep it under control.For now at least."Yeah."
"Great.Same routine—undress to your comfort level, face down on the table, sheet over your lower half."
She disappears into the bathroom, and I strip faster than dignity allows, folding my clothes neatly on the side table, noting exactly where they are this time.
The padded massage table feels familiar now, welcoming instead of intimidating.I bury my nose in the cradle inhaling the fresh scent of the room.
"Ready," I call out.
I hear her come back in and pump oil into her hands.
"I want to work your back again, but also spend some time on your legs if that’s cool,” she says.
"Whatever you think is best."
Her hands settle on my shoulders, and I let out a long breath.Yesterday's magic happens again—tension melting under her touch, muscles surrendering to her skilled fingers.
