Page 6 of One Night to Fall
To celebrate, I’d taken myself to a local bar, bought myself a drink, and hit it off with a gorgeous stranger. Sexy and strong, charming and delicious. Losing myself in Jesse was better than toasting the finest champagne.
“How about a wager?”
A wager.
His words bring me back to the present as I glance at the clock—two minutes.I can do this. I cantotallydo this.
If I win, he has to sing karaoke on Thursday at the bar where we met, and if he wins I agree to go to his family’s land and ride a horse. The thought makes me shudder, and while this should be easy—it’s been a long time since I popped a random boner—I’m not so confident right now.
Because I didn’t know my client was my hookup—the man I’d been dreaming about and jerking off to—and nowallI want is to have my hands on him.
Fuck.
Time’s up.
Inhaling a steadying breath, I gently knock on the door and take the answering grunt as he’s ready. The room is exactly as I left it except now there’s a neat pile of clothes on the chair in the corner, a pair of work boots tucked under it, and a gloriously naked man face down on my table with the blanket haphazardly over his waist.
“I’m going to start at your shoulders and work down, all right? I need you to tell me if it’s too much pressure or not enough.”
“Fine,” he mumbles as I start my routine, ignoring the way I can still smell his cologne over the massage oil.
The first few swipes of my hands are easy, my brain switching into autopilot as I listen to the way he groans and the sudden intake of breath. His body is tense, his muscles bunching and flexing as I move down his back, but I’m not sure if it’s because he’s in pain or because it’sme.
“Are you doing okay?” I rasp, my voice huskier than I anticipated.
“Sure,” he says wryly but I can hear the discomfort in his tone.
“Is it too much?”
“It’s fine.”
“That’s not how this works,” I say evenly, trying like hell not to smack his ass because he’s being difficult and he’d deserve it.
Don’t even go there.
“I can take the pain.”
“Does it feel good working through the pain toward relief, or is it pain just for the sake of being in pain?”
He’s quiet for a moment, my touch gentling before he sighs. “It’s a little too much above my hip; the bruising is mostly gone but it’s still tender down my left side.”
“All right,” I whisper, moving the blanket to uncover more of him and swallowing the rush of desire when I expose his ass cheek and all down his leg.
Good God, this man is beautiful.
“Are we supposed to talk?” he asks, making me chuckle and helping me refocus as I follow the lines of his body, working the muscles, trying and failing to ignore all the little breathy noises he’s making.
I want to help him, to provide relief and soothe his pain, but none of that takes away from the fact that I know what it feels like to be inside him, to dig my fingers into his flesh as I fuck him boneless.
Breathless.
The man who was only meant to be an indulgence.
“Do youwantto talk?” My voice is nothing short of strained.
“I’m still trying to decide if I’m pissed or not.”
“About what?”
