Page 70 of Gideon
I raise my eyebrow. “Gid, this is all so sudden. I’m not that sort of boy.”
“You are definitely that sort of boy,” he says affectionately. He shoves me down onto the bed. “I’m going to give you a massage,” he says, unscrewing the top on the bottle which lets out a sharp lemony scent.
“Massage. Have you done that before?” I ask doubtfully.
He shakes his head and smiles. “I may not have massaged anyone for pleasure before, but I do know how to do it. I had to take a course in it for a film I did a few years ago.”
“Which film?”
“Something that hopefully sank deep into the ether and never rears its head again,” he says fervently.
My interest sparks. “Porn?” I ask and he shakes his head.
“Of fucking course not.Porn. What part of hiding my sexuality for years and being a selfish lover makes me a candidate for porn?”
“You are most definitely not a selfish lover with me,” I say throatily.
“Yes, well, that’s just between us,” he says as I settle on my front.
“It bloody well is,” I say, and the fervency sounds loud in my voice. For a second there’s a startled silence and then his hands touch my shoulders. He starts to rub them firmly, working those long, thin fingers into knots I didn’t know were there. I squirm.
“Shit, that’s so good,” I mumble, burying my head in my arms and melting into his hands. “Hurts and is good at the same time.”
“It’s because you carry your stress and tiredness in your shoulders. I’ve noticed before how tight they get.”
“I need you to do this for forever,” I say blissfully, and then still.Fuck, what did I just say?I cringe and wait for the sound of him belting down the stairs and making a Gideon-sized hole in the door.
Instead, to my amazement, he chuckles, and his voice is light and full of laughter. “I think I could actually make you say or do anything when I’m doing this.”
“I think you could.”
“Even that I was good in theOliverremake?”
I snort. “You’re not that good a massager, Gid. Nothing could make me say that.”
He pinches me, and I moan as his fingers move to the base of my back, digging in and pushing upwards. “Youcouldmake me say anything,” I finally say softly.
He pauses, and his hands still on my back. “I don’t want to make you,” he eventually says in a low voice. “I want you to always do what makes you happy.”
“That’s why I’m here,” I say and smile when he leans down, and I feel a kiss soft on my shoulder. “OhGod,” I moan as he starts to massage again. “That’s so fucking good.”
“Your muscles are very tight. That’s probably this afternoon.” He pauses. “It must take a lot of brute strength to break some poor fucker’s ribs.”
I snort, feeling my body melt into the mattress. “I’m alarmed by the relish in your voice. Perhaps I should go out tonight and break ribs left and right in St Austell.” He snorts. “In the interest of honesty, anyone could have done what I did today. Anyone with a rudimentary first-aid knowledge could have been talked through that procedure.”
“But not as good as you,” he says stubbornly. “You didn’t hesitate. Just got straight in there. I’m not interested in anyone else anyway. It was you I was very proud of. Nobody else.”
“Thank you.” I grab his hand as he touches my shoulder and kiss the fingers. “You look after me so well,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
“You should be looked after,” he says gruffly. “Always.”
I try to think of something to say that won’t freak him out but can’t find anything and settle for lowering my face into the mattress. As if agreeing with me he steps up the massage, digging into knots.
The massage turns slow after a bit when the knots and tight spots have eased, and his strokes seem more languid, as if he’s relishing the feel of my skin. I feel my cock rub against the rough towel as my body senses the change in mood.
“Gid,” I moan as his fingers lower to my arse, and he squeezes the cheeks, his fingers warm with the oil. “Oh fuck,” I choke out as he spreads the cheeks, and I feel the first touch of his tongue. “Gid!”
“Let me,” he says low. “I’ve never done this before for anyone.”
