Page 50 of Sassy Love
“Front pocket, on the inside.”
I lie back.
It isn’t until I hear the zipper on my bag that I remember Vinny is packed in the same spot.
Fuck.
If he noticed the pink vibrator, he doesn’t say anything as he returns with painkillers and swipes my glass of water from the bedside table. I take the pills and drift my eyes shut, rubbing my temples, hoping it will help. The ache doesn’t budge.
“Can I try something to help release the tension and ease the headache?” he asks.
“What is it?”
“My mother’s technique she uses for my father. Shoulder massage with pressure points.”
“Okay . . .”
He climbs onto the bed behind me and rests his hands on my shoulders. I stiffen under the large spans of warmth they bring.Holy shit.
“Damn, you’re so tense,” he mutters. Then, “Close your eyes.”
“Not on your life.”
He leans down to whisper by my ear, “You trust me now, right?”
I turn back, giving him an indignant filthy look.
“Let me help, please, Carlie.”
“Fine, but so you know, I have mace in my bag.”
“Amongst other things,” he says quietly.
Heat engulfs my neck and face. I bury my face in my hands. And his chuckle dies in his throat before he clears it. His hands fall away, and I turn back. “Seriously?”
“Sorry, it’s none of my business.”
“No, it’s not. But my headache is killing me, and your hands are sowarm...”
Glancing back, I catch a small smile tugging up in one corner of his mouth. “Fine, but you get all handsy, Lamont, I’m going straight to HR.”
“Well, for your sake, I’m glad that’s no longer you.” I wait for the words to land before busting out a rare smile for this man. “What happened to our first-name basis?”
He chuckles again before whispering, “Brat.” He plants his hands on my shoulders again with a tight squeeze.
“Ah! Oh . . .”
Shifting my hair to one side with a gentle touch that sends goosebumps blooming over my body, he massages my shoulders.
Lawson’s strong grip works my tight muscles over, and I can’t help the small little groans that slip out as my head begins to feel a little better. My entire body is relaxed. His thumbs work their way up the back of my neck and past my hairline, and I tilt my head to one side with a heady groan.
“Fuck,” he breathes.
I still, breaths burning. The harried blood in my veins is drowning out my rational thinking capabilities. I mean, he’s not wrong. My body is alive under his touch. My heart hammers. These panties are ruined. And they absolutely shouldn’t be.
“Sorry.” His hands disappear from my neck, and the bed shifts with a jerky motion as he leaves the bedroom and pads to the bathroom. I flop back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. That’s the most male attention my body has had in months.
And fuck, it felt good.
