Page 165 of The Maxwell Brothers
He put his hand back under his head, watching me hungrily. Next, I focused on his chest, tracing my fingers along his clavicle, kissing around those insane pectoral muscles.
“Which shoulder is injured?” I asked.
“The right one.”
I kissed it delicately so I wouldn’t hurt him. "My God, you hockey players can be so sexy."
"Hockey player. Singular.Thishockey player," he said in a surprisingly serious voice.
I looked up at him again and was startled by the intensity in his eyes. "What other hockey players do you see? No one, Mr. Jealous. Just you."
"That's right," he said. "Just me."
In a fraction of a second, the balance of power changed. He pushed himself up in a sitting position, securing one arm under my ass and lifting me off the bed. He walked with me to the nearest wall, holding me against it.
"Just me," he repeated in a strong voice before kissing me so intensely that I couldn’t think straight.
I groaned when he touched my right shoulder blade, but not from pleasure. He seemed to realize it instantly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
"I think I strained something this weekend."
"Where? Show me," he said.
He carried me back to the bed. I moved to the center of the mattress, turning with my back to him, pointing with my forefinger at a spot below my right shoulder blade. He pressed his thumb there, putting pressure on it for a few seconds.
"Oh wow, this is good. I can feel the pain sort of melting away."
"Are you sore anywhere else?"
"If I say no, will you take your hands away? I kind of like them there."
He laughed in my ear. "I won't take them away." He massaged my shoulders, descending to my shoulder blades a few times, applying pressure with his thumbs on certain spots.
"Oh wow, can you do this all night?" I asked, leaning into his ministrations.
He brought his mouth to my ear. "My pleasure, Kendra. You're so beautiful."
"I like your hands," I said.
"Before, you seemed to like my biceps too."
"Oh, those too," I said in a reassuring tone. "And your abs, your ass, your calves, your ankles—basically every part of you."
"Aren't you forgetting something?" he teased.
"Hmm, what could I be forgetting? Your cock?"
"Kendra, babe." He moved his hand up in my hair, tugging at it. "Don't turn me on."
"Why not?" I was genuinely perplexed.
"Because then I'll want to have you again."
"What's the problem with that?"
"I don't want you to be sore tomorrow."
