Page 79 of Semblance

“Why don’t you get more comfortable and I can service you better,” Shadow growled into my ear, gesturing towards the extra-long soft fabric chaise that served as my lounging chair.

My heart skipped a beat and I felt a gentle gush down in my sex.

“My body is yours,” I said as I rose from my seat and headed over to the s-shaped chair, one hand leading Shadow behind me.

I slid myself onto the chair and laid face down.

“Do you have oil?” he asked.

“Wow, you mean business don’t you?”

“Whenever I do something, I make sure I do it right,” he replied, smiling. “Now where’s your oil?”

“Bathroom, third drawer,” I replied, my eyes focused on his long, dominating stride as he went in search of the lubricant.

Damn, he was gorgeous. I reflected back on the passionate sex we had in Cambodia and felt my nipples turn into diamonds.

“I found it,” Shadow hollered from the bathroom. “When I come back out, I expect you to be fully naked.”

“What?”

“You don’t keep your clothes on for a massage, do you?” he asked.

“Well no…”

“What’s the matter? Shy?” he teased.

But that was exactly it.

I was feeling extremely shy.

We shared our first intimate sexual experience together in heat of the moment. We were in a different country, intoxicated on wine, dancing, and the Cambodian New Year—it was the perfect chemistry for uninhibited, passionate sex. His perception of my body at that time was under the influence of testosterone and lust.

Tonight was different. What if he saw my body again and was disappointed? The magic of that Cambodian night didn’t exist in my condo.

The only thing around was me and my imperfect body.

“You naked yet?” he asked.

I was being foolish. He was bound to see me naked again, one point or another. I just hoped that today wasn’t the day that the cruel entity known as cellulite decided to pay my ass a visit. I had lasted twenty-two years thus far.

I stripped down to my bare skin—still tanned from Cambodia—and laid on my front on the chaise.

“I’m in the buff,” I called out.

There was nothing left to do but wait now, and hope he still liked what he saw.

Shadow came out with his shirt off.

My eyes became hostages to his sculpted body, my eyes zeroing in on the ridges of his incredible abs and perfectly formed pectorals. I had the urge to leap out of the chaise and attack him like a sex-obsessed fan girl, running my hands over every inch of his Adonis-formed body.

How could I—a girl who could barely run one mile without collapsing on the treadmill from exhaustion—be in the same league as Shadow?

“Can you dim the lights?” I asked. Perhaps the darkness could hide my flaws.

“What if I don’t want to?” he asked as he traced my body with his eyes.

“Have you ever had a massage with the light fully on?” I asked.

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