Page 27 of Braving the Storm
“Told you, I’m fine.” I set the bottle at my feet. As I lean forward, a sharp, searing pain rockets through the fleshy part between my shoulder and neck, like I’ve been stuck with a cattle brand.
“Anghhh. Fuckkk.” I don’t even get to fully register that she’s touching my bare skin because this girl just savagely dug her knuckle into the knot that’s been building there all week.
“Oh, good. You’re absolutely right. Completely fine.” Briar huffs. “Jesus, you’re as bullheaded as those creatures you used to climb on. Sit still.”
The cap on the tube clicks, and the bed dips, and that’s when my mind blanks.
Briar’s soft hands are on me. They’re covering my muscles and my aches, and she’s kneeling on the bed behind my back, so close her hoodie brushes up against my spine over and over.
“Tell me if there’s a spot in particular you want me to work on.”
I bite my tongue so hard there’s surely going to be blood coating my teeth after this is all done. Maybe I’ll have bitten the damn thing clean in two.
She methodically works over the tension in my shoulder until I wince again.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. “But you kind of deserve it after refusing to admit this was causing you pain.”
Yeah, the kind of tormented agony caused by my back, the shitty couch, and the pretty young niece sleeping in my bed.
“Does that feel any better?” She gentles over the particularly sore knot, working it, easing it, deftly kneading and rubbing, and driving me insane with how good it feels to have her hands on me.
Thousands of sparks ripple along my nerves. Every place she glides her palms and fingertips over hums with deep satisfaction.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Mmhm.” It’s official. Briar has rendered me incapable of logic or speech. All that keeps thundering around inside my brain is an awareness that, goddamn,thisfeels amazing.
I can’t think of the last time someone touched me like… this, and please don’t let her stop anytime soon. I don’t want her to stop. I’ve had women’s hands cover every inch of flesh on my body, yet it’s always been with a singular goal in mind. Sex.
But this… this is veering into unfamiliar realms. A place where reality has warped, distorting like ancient glass. For whatever reason, the stunning girl who I shouldn’t be noticing, let alone craving, has willingly entered into this momentary blurring of lines between us.
Maybe this is the price I’d be prepared to pay. Torture my body on the daily if it gets me the ultimate prize, or goddamn punishment, of my niece’s hands all over my naked back and shoulders.
Because it’s a kindly gesture, but also an incredibly fucking intimate one. It allows a tiny spark to rekindle and begin glowing around the idea that Briar might be a whole lot more interested in herunclethan she should be.
Shit. Even to myself I sound drunk thinking like that. I must be drugged by her closeness, the attention I’ve never received without it being in return for something. While the black humor and dripping irony is that I’ve lost track of the number of times in my life, aset of false eyelashes fluttered my way with a not-so-subtle offer to come back to my hotel room and give me a massage. Rather than one of those times I had a nameless buckle bunny offer to give me a rub down after an event, I’d trade any of those moments for the guarantee it could be the gorgeous girl at my back with her hands on me.
A girl who is entirely off-limits.
Feeling like a horse getting a thorough grooming, my muscles dip into that drowsy state… relaxed and heavy. I’m in some sort of trance, bespelled by her deft touch and ability to ease the tension and aggressive ache that I’ve been carrying around.
“Better, Uncle Storm?” Her voice is more throaty than before. Jesus, is that what she sounds like when she’s turned on? I’m such a sick fuck because hearing her call me uncle inthatvoice makes my cock jerk.
My blood quickens as she slides off the bed and comes to stand in front of me.
Christ. Why does my throat feel dry, and what happened to forming words? Every single letter of the alphabet has flown out of my brain. I have to squeeze my fists against the temptation to reach for the backs of her thighs. She’s right fucking there. Within arm’s reach and close enough, the material of my jeans brushes up against her soft skin.
My niece stands close enough for me to say aproperthank you.
One that involves no words being spoken, but certainly would put my mouth and tongue, to good use.
“Need something else?” I swear she nearly whispers the words.
Goddamn, is she fucking with me?
“No. Thanks, that’s much better.” Holy shit. I croak something out. The air swirls heavy and potent between us, and Briar isn’t moving away.
I stare up at her. Dark eyes framed beneath a thick curtain of lashes. Her cheeks are dusted with a tinge of pink. Full mouth hangs open ever so slightly.
“Good.” She breathes, teeth catching her bottom lipfor just a second. The flicker of her eyes is so quick I could almost convince myself it didn’t happen. But it did. It does. She lets her eyes drop to my mouth before bouncing, startled, back up to hold my gaze. “Sleep well. Good night.”
