Page 64 of Christmas Crisis
He nodded. “Miranda, you are the only person in my life who couldn’t give a shit about the Stone Caseman people see online. As long as we laughed and talked the way we do, I know you'd still be with me if I were in some boring-ass corporate job, or if I worked as a ticket taker at Dodger Stadium. Sometimes I think the universe put you on the beach that day because it knew I needed you in my life.”
He was sweet to say it, and I believed he meant it. But being in his life and being his girlfriend weren't the same thing.
I glanced into the backyard to see Leo throwing a plastic stick to Oscar and Bambi.
Truthfully, it was hard to fault Stone for not putting me first. He’d never been my number one either.
Chapter eighteen
Leo
NOW
Ifollowed Miranda into our room. It was dark outside, so I flipped on the floor lamp. We stared at the bed for a second before she crawled onto it, lying down on her stomach.
This is normal. We’ve always been physically affectionate. She doesn’t know what’s changed. Just be cool. Don’t make it weird.
Running through the mantras in my head, I reminded myself that this shouldn’t be a big deal. But despite my affirmations, it felt like dangerous territory.
Or maybe it was just me. Projecting.
I sat down next to her on the edge of the mattress. She turned to face me, and I realized how awkward our positions were. I could understand why massage therapists had tables for their clients. It would be difficult to get a good hold of Miranda’s shoulders from the side.
“Are you okay if I straddle you?” I asked. “I’ll keep my weight on my knees, but it’ll make it easier to do this.” In for a penny, in for a pound. If it had to be dangerous, at least the massage could be good too.
“Whatever works.” She seemed totally relaxed. Her eyes closed, and she melted into the bed.
I threw one of my legs over her thighs until my joggers-clad knees were on either side of hers. I rested back on my haunches, my thighs thick enough that I could still be comfortable without actually having to sit on her.
Leaning forward, I rubbed my thumbs across the juncture of her neck and shoulders. My fingers traced slow patterns down her spine and over the sinewy planes of her muscles, and I registered how enormous my hands were compared to the narrow expanse of her back.
Running my palms across her thin T-shirt, I rubbed circles along her sides as they tapered to her waist, working out any small knots I discovered along the way.
A groan escaped her. Guttural and deep. I squeezed my eyelids, drinking in the sound.
I’d done that. She'd made that noise because of me.
I reveled in the feel of her body beneath my hands. Contemplated my deliberate motions. Miranda might be unaware, but this was the most sensual thing I’d everexperienced. My cheeks heated as it hit me. We’d touched before. Cuddled and hugged. But this was different. This felt carnal, like I wasservicingher.
I released a long breath, knowing I was on the edge of gettingexcited.
“Pressure okay?” I murmured, noticing how quiet the room was.
“It’s perfect. I feel very decadent right now.” She laughed lightly.
“Good. I never did get you a real birthday gift. We can consider this massage as me rectifying matters.”
She twisted her neck slightly to peek at me. “Leo, you have been the most amazing friend. And you have given me so much. Not just since Thanksgiving, but always. That’s the gift.”
I smiled, and some of my more tumultuous thoughts eased. “I know, Panda. But I’m glad to do this too.”
We stopped talking, and I moved my hands, kneading her lower back as she continued breathing deeply. My desire felt like a furnace inside me.
My fingers worked their way toward Miranda’s ass, stroking along its upper curve. I dug my thumbs into the area just above the waistband of her leggings, the twin dimples there beckoning me like sirens. I longed to press my mouth to them.
But I resisted.
I ran my palms from her shoulders down the length of her arms, gripping her triceps, her forearms, her wrists. As my fingers grazed the sensitive skin there, goose bumps popped up, and she hummed. “Tickles.”
