Page 121 of Shadowman
“Nothing. I’m still kinda stiff from the other night,” he murmurs, lolling his head from side to side. I bite back a grin, and he rolls his eyes. “Mymuscles, creeper. From the fight. Sleeping on these terrible mattresses doesn’t help.”
My face lights up, a golden opportunity presenting itself. “I can give you a massage… If you like.”
He peeks at me. “Yea?”
I nod fast. “I was a massage therapist as well.”
“You were a yoga instructoranda massage therapist?”
“And a poetry teacher, and a bartender, and a dog-walker…”
“Okay, I get it.” He grins. “I’m fine, though. It’s not a big deal.”
“Listen, warrior.” I ease behind him, ignoring his obvious reticence. “You asked me if I wanted to make you feel good…”
His eyes widen, and it takes him a beat to breathe out, “Do you?”
Nodding, I slide my hands onto his shoulders. “Relax and let me work my magic.”
“Just amassage, though… right?” he grumbles.
All I want is to crawl on top of him and see where things go. But I compose myself, because we’re beingfriendly, and murmur, “Yes.”
He peeks at me over his shoulder, wearing a rather suspicious look. “No happy ending?”
I pout, running my index finger up the nape of his neck until he flinches. “Boring, but that’s your call.”
Sighing, he nods with trepidation. “Fine. Upper body only.”
“Yes, sir, Rapha.” I pluck the material of his shirt. “I’ll need this off, though.”
Humoring me, he whips the tank top over his head. And I’m momentarily very distracted, to an almost hypnotizing degree, by just how well sculpted he is. He’s like a statue of a Greek god.
And I really like his tattoos.
“Byron… can I just say one thing?”
“You’ve already said about five hundred things tonight,” he grunts. “Not that I could stop you, but what’s one more?”
Ignoring the way his grumpiness tingles my balls, I croon, “Your body ismouthwatering.”
He goes quiet, and I can feel his nervous squirming, before he mutters, “Don’t drool on me.”
Fucking hell. Grouchy, a little cocky, and feral for secret gay stuff… Why is that such an unbearably hot combination??
Taking a breath, I begin working on his shoulders gently. He is stiff, but I think it’s mostly because of the potentially awkward circumstances. Still, I can tell he likes it, relaxing and leaning into the sensation.
Squeezing harder, I knead his muscles, sticking to the shoulders, when all I want is to lie him down and touch every solidinch. But I don’t. I keep it professional, though it’s like mild torture, caressing him with firm force, driving down on pressure points with my thumbs.
Byron’s breathing shifts and slows, as if I’m working him into a trance. He’smeltingbefore me, and I’m on fire myself, but for a different reason.
Wow… His skin is every bit as creamy and soft as it looks.
“Should I use some lotion?” I whisper by his ear.
“Hm…?” He sounds out of it already, barely processing my question as his head lolls back. “Fuck, that feels good…”
“Yea?”
