Page 12 of My Trainer Neighbor
I stilled my hands."Trust that I know what I'm doing.Trust that I'm not going to hurt you."I paused."Trust that sometimes letting go of control is the only way to get better."
She turned to look at me over her shoulder, and the vulnerability in her eyes nearly undid me."I don't know how to do that."
"I'll teach you."
The words hung between us, loaded with more meaning than either of us was ready to acknowledge.This wasn't just about exercise anymore, and we both knew it.
"I should warn you," she said, still looking at me."I'm not very good at relaxing."
"I noticed."I resumed the massage, working my thumbs along her shoulder blades."When did you last do something just because it felt good?"
"You keep asking me that."
"Because you keep not answering."
She was quiet for so long I thought she wasn't going to respond.Then, so quietly I almost missed it: "I don't remember."
This beautiful, successful woman had been so focused on achieving, on proving herself, that she'd forgotten how to simply feel good.
"We're going to change that," I said, leaning closer.I could smell her shampoo, something light and floral that made me want to bury my face in her neck."Starting now."
I moved my hands to her shoulders, working the tight muscles there, and she let out a soft moan that went straight through me.
"Shawn."
How she said my name, breathy and uncertain, made me want to do things that had nothing to do with professional training.
"Just breathe," I told her."Let me take care of you."
She did, melting under my touch in a way that was both innocent and incredibly erotic.Every soft sound she made, every shiver when I hit a particularly tight spot, was driving me closer to the edge of my professional control.
This was dangerous territory.The kind that ended with me kissing her neck and forgetting all the reasons why getting involved with my neighbor was a bad idea.
But I couldn't bring myself to stop.Not when she was finally relaxing.Not when she was trusting me enough to be vulnerable.
Not when she was making those little sounds that were going to fuel every fantasy I had for the next four months.
"Better?"I asked, working my way back down her spine.
"So much better."She leaned into my touch."Where did you learn to do this?"
"Army medic training.We had to learn basic massage therapy for injury prevention."My hands stilled."Plus, my buddy Jake threw out his back on a mission once.I spent three weeks working the knots out so he could function."
"What happened to him?"
The question was casual, but it hit like a knife to the chest."IED.Two months later."
She turned to face me fully, and the compassion in her eyes was almost worse than the memory."I'm sorry."
"It was a long time ago."I pulled my hands away, suddenly needing distance."We should probably get to the actual workout."
She studied my face for a moment, and I could see her trying to decide whether to push.She nodded."What's next?"
What was next was an hour of torture disguised as functional movement training.Every time I adjusted her form, every brush of skin against skin, every little gasp when she pushed herself harder than she thought she could, was slowly driving me insane.
By the time we finished, I was wound so tight I could barely think straight, and Nicole looked like she'd been thoroughly worked over in all the best ways.Her cheeks were flushed, her hair had escaped its ponytail, and there was a satisfaction in her eyes that I wanted to see there for entirely different reasons.
"How do you feel?"I asked, handing her a towel.
