Page 61 of The Games We Play

Ican’t believe he agreed to this. Not only did he agree, he volunteered.

Stepping on to the stage, I cup my hands around his massive shoulders and turn him to face me. He follows my lead as his body stands flush with mine. With only a couple inches between us, my hands begin to roam over his clothed body.

And for the entirety of this time, his eyes never leave mine.

Not even when I run my hands over his chest, pushing his jacket over his shoulders, allowing it to drop behind him.

Not even as I unbutton his shirt, following the same pattern as the jacket as it pools on the floor.

Kneeling down in front of him, my eyes still a permanent fixture on his, I unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. His hands fist at his sides, mirroring the tight clench in his jaw as I lick my lips when his pants fall to his ankles.

He swallows thickly as I have him step out of leg holes, pushing his pile of clothes to the side.

His body is on full display with nothing but a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs on.

It’s my turn to swallow audibly as my gaze roams over histhick, muscular thighs, past the V line where his torso meets his hips, and up the washboard abs with more ridges than the Grand Canyon.

Someone clears their throat, and it’s a hard realization when I remember we aren’t alone and I have a class to teach.

Although the slow strip did add to the tantric connection due to the sexual tension that’s already been building between us, I still need to keep this educational and professional.

My eyes steal another look at his perfectly sculpted body and my cheeks flush without permission.

“What now, Mimi?” Seamus’s husky question goes straight to my core, forcing me to press my thighs together.

I am a professional.I am a professional.I play on repeat in my head.

“Lay down.” I don’t mean for my voice to come out as raspy as it does. I clear my throat as I pat the neck pillow and run my hand over the blanket.

His chest rises in a commanding breath, as if preparing for battle. He glances at the mat, then back at me before he crouches down and rolls onto his back, lying face up.

Glancing around the room, I take in a lengthy breath to calm myself before starting to talk a little more about Tantric massage and begin to explain what I’m going to be demonstrating.

My gaze goes beyond the couples in the class to Ember, standing in her same spot at the edge of the theater room next to a gorgeous blonde woman and two other men. One I recognize immediately as Christian Ford, the CEO of Ford Enterprises who owns many things, including the X-connect app and this club.

I’ve only ever seen him in pictures, which does him no justice for what he looks like in real life.

My voice stutters briefly as I walk back over to where Seamus is laying and kneel down next to him. I quickly peek back up to where they are, hoping they’ve gone, but nope—still there.

Seamus reads my nervous energy without effort and turns to look around the room, spotting the group immediately.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers as his eyes roll annoyingly to the top of his head.

And there the guilt is again. The same guilt that I had when he got sucked into that stupid spin the bottle game, and I instantly feel like an insecure school girl who’s learned nothing in her life.

All the impulsive choices I’ve made that have trailed into horrible, life altering decisions flash through my head. The ones I actively made not knowing the outcome, and the ones I’ve subconsciously made that have always drowned me in guilt.

My gaze turns down to the floor as I attempt to calm myself down. I haven’t had a panic attack in years, and I’m uncertain why this is triggering one.

I am capable. I can do this.

I remind myself over and over again, but the forcefulness of my thoughts only make my nerves worse.

Seamus expertly reads me again, interlaces his fingers in mine, and pulls my attention to him.

His eyes have softened and they're full of nothing but admiration, and I see my old Seamus again.

“I need you to touch me, before I prematurely lose it andreallyembarrass myself for the rest of my life.”

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