Page 26 of Only the Wicked

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She climbs onto the bed, back to me, sheltering her braless breasts from my view.

Once she’s settled, I toe off my shoes and climb behind her, straddling her thighs. I slap my palms together and rub vigorously.

She rises a few inches, looking over her shoulder at me.

“Warming my hands. Head down now. Arms above your head.”

I press my palms to her lower back, and pause, letting the heat seep into her skin.

“Do you have cramps?”

“No,” she says, sounding small.

Embarrassed?

“Do you not get bad periods?”

“This is very strange first date conversation.”

I lift my palms, rub them vigorously again, and place them once again on her lower back. Her head visibly sinks deeper into the pillow, and the muscles in her lower back soften. Knowing she’s giving in, relaxing into this, I knead along her spine, up to her shoulders. I’m not a trained masseuse, but I’ve had my share of massages, and I work her muscles in the pattern I’ve grown accustomed to with Swedish massages.

“Oh, my god that feels amazing.”

“I told you I’d make you feel good.”

She lets out a not-so-subtle groan as my hands spread across her rib cage, climbing higher until I reach the underside of her breasts.

“This is heaven. Did you do this for all of your girlfriends?”

I half-chuckle but then realize an answer is expected.

“Girlfriend. Singular, really.”

“I take it you left her, because no woman in her right mind would leave this.”

The goofy smile on my face stretches my facial muscles.

“She left me, actually.”

“Really?” She rises and I pat her spine.

“Lie flat.”

“Moron,” she says.

“Eh, she had her reasons.”

“Did you cheat?” There’s enough humor in her tone that I take it she doesn’t believe I would. And she’s right.

“I didn’t cheat. At least not with a human.”

“Do you have a blow-up doll fetish?”

“You’re a regular comedian.”

“Now that’s a job I haven’t considered.” She shifts and her rib cage expands beneath my fingers. “What’d you do? The not with a human bit is a touch creepy.”

“I didn’t mean…” Well, fuck, might as well tell her. “I skipped our engagement party.”