Page 2 of Aching for the Lumbersnack
“Of course. I’ll be in a jiffy.”
It felt strange stripping off my clothes, and I prayed my dick behaved. Last thing I needed was to be embarrassed with a raging hard on. I’d really creep her out then.
Most woman I didn’t bat an eye at. Not because there wasn’t any attraction, but no one ever stood out to me.
Until now.
I sat down on the table, spread the blanket out over my lap, and laid down, staring at the ceiling.
A soft knock tapped on the door, and I called for her to come in. My head turned her way as she opened the door.
“You ready?” Delilah smiled as she walked in carrying a few small bottles of oil.
“I think so.”
Delilah skittered around me, lowering the lights, lighting a candle, and pouring some oils into bowls lined up on the counter. She opened the cabinets on the wall and took out a couple of small bottles and set them down. “It helps to set the mood. The more relaxed you are, the better the massage will work.”
“Okay.” I swallowed hard, becoming more and more turned on with every second that passed.
I’d never felt this way around a woman before. Like I wanted to protect her with my life and never let her go. A strong force of some sort pushed us together, yet I didn’t understand why.
“Before we start, are you allergic to anything? Any herbs, lotions, oils, plants, that sort of thing?”
“No, no allergies.”
“Perfect. I mix my own lotions and oils, so I always like to check. I’ll start with your shoulders first.” Delilah said as she stood at the top of the table, above my head.
I held my breath as she moved her hands to my skin.
As soon as her small hands touched my wide shoulders, I was a goner. The way her smooth skin felt against my roughness had me head over heels already.
I wanted her. As mine. All mine.
Luckily for her, there wasn’t much in life that I wanted and didn’t get.
CHAPTER TWO
Delilah
I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t focus.
Couldn’t do anything.
Not when my hands were touching his skin and the entire town’s electricity grid coursed through my body.
I saw lots of clients, most of them mountain men, considering my location, but none of them produced such a visceral reaction as Banks did.
Get a grip, girl. It’s business. Massage him and move on.
His moans and groans were enough to send me out the door. I rubbed some oil onto his shoulders, my special mix for sore muscles, and his body tensed up as my fingers worked their magic.
“Just try to relax, okay?”
“I can’t.”
“Would help if I lowered the lights more? Or played some soft, calming music?”
