Page 62 of Your Two Lips
We accepted our glasses with a thank you nod and strolled to the black and white photos along the wall near the fireplace. The old pictures and descriptions told the area’s history before it was a booming wine destination. Some folks glanced at us, still in our mountain biking clothes. I didn’t care. Finn shifted from foot to foot and weaved around the casually well-dressed couples. Was he uncomfortable?
All in. I took his hand and stalked toward the elevators. Bypassing the winery’s offer of more wine, we set our empty glasses on the nearby bus tray as the elevator pinged. I wanted a few minutes alone with Finn before five. I was going to rock his world tonight or die trying.
Dark wood and thick fabrics added to the romantic luxury everywhere. The suite entrance opened to a small sitting area with a sofa and a desk/console table to the left. A king-size bed was on the right and beyond that was a see-through gas fireplace with a large soaker tub and shower on the other side. Windows with shades that raised from the bottom let in light but kept the space private. I was already making big plans for that tub.
Our bags had been delivered, and I turned to Finn with a simple smile. “Want to take a shower before?”
“Fuck yes.” He wrapped me up in his arms and brushed his scruff along my neck before nipping the skin at my shoulder. “Always yes to that question. Before what?”
“Our couple’s massage.” I raised my eyebrow, hoping he would be into it.
“What’s a couple’s massage?” Dirty ideas sparked in his eyes.
“You and I will have a massage in that sitting area. They’ll come and set up in about thirty minutes. We should wash all this sweat off first.” I backed toward the en suite, removing items of clothing.
Finn lifted his shirt off in one quick motion and stalked toward me, his expression predatory. Let the games begin.
40
FINN
Right on time,the two female massage therapists arrived to set up. Candles were lit, and they stepped out to give us privacy as we climbed onto the tables. The quick shower sex had only increased my appetite for Emily. This day with her had been perfect, and the best was still to come. Tonight was about trying to move our relationship forward. We came from different worlds, but maybe we could be each other’s world. She was quickly becoming mine.
I wasn’t sure how my dick would react to me being rubbed down in the same room as Emily. I decided screw it and relaxed. No way I was the first guy to tent the sheet in a couple’s massage.
My muscles released some of the stress from our ride today as the therapist worked on my legs and arms. I heard Emily’s soft sighs and inhaled the flowery scent of her body lotion. My dick, always paying attention to Emily, was semi-hard.
“Baby, you need to stay quiet if you want me to relax.”
“Sorry, Mr. Big Man. I’ll try to be quiet.” Mr. Big Man. Damn, I liked it when she called me that.
The massage ended with super-hot stones resting along our spines. That was better than I would have imagined. Once the therapists left, Emily, wrapped in a plush robe, was prettier than I had ever seen her. The fresh air and sun had kissed her cheeks with color. Her eyes were soft and her honey-blonde hair, falling out of a loose knot, dusted her neck and shoulders.
Her smile was my favorite. It was the one she gave me after every orgasm I gave her. That smile alone would have me working my ass off till the end of time to provide her with all the orgasms she could take.
I walked to her, and my robe loosened. “Was the massage my surprise?”
She wrapped those beautiful fingers around my length and teased me with slow, loose strokes, her thumb moving over my crown and the moisture already there.
“Not entirely. You’ll have to wait for the rest.”
“I can’t imagine anything better than the way you look right now, Em.”
She released me and went back to her small suitcase by the bathroom. Mine was an average brown canvas bag. Hers was an expensive leather one with the XL logo.
“We should get dressed, Finn. Our dinner reservation is at seven.” Her glance back at me said she was up to something, and she clearly wasn’t going to tell me yet. I could be patient. Farming was 70 percent patience. Whatever this woman wanted, I was game.
Emily said the restaurant was casual, like almost everything in this part of the country. Dark jeans and a thin-gauge black sweater were about as dressed up as I got. I shaved yesterday, and my scruff was coming in the way she liked it. I dabbed on cologne, then poured a bourbon from the bottle of Elijah Craig I brought and sat to wait for my girl.
I stood as she walked out from the large dressing area by the bathroom in her underwear and spiky heels, carrying a navy-blue dress across her arm. Her hair was up again and held in place with what looked like a chopstick. Her eyelashes were thick and dark, her hypnotic lips plumped with a deep pink, almost purple, color.
Damn. My eyes roamed her body, taking in the lingerie set I hadn’t seen before. It was lavender and sheer except for delicate lace on the edges and fine satin ribbon. She popped her hip to the side like she did that first night, and my eyes dropped to the curve of her waist, her toned legs, and the shoes with an impossibly thin point for a heel. Those shoes were lethal in more ways than one.
“You like, Mr. Big Man?”
“I like very much. Can we get room service, and you stay like that for the next hour or two?”
“Oh no. That wouldn’t be right.” Her voice was soft and airy as she slipped her arms through the dress and wrapped it around her with a tie at her waist. “Our reservation is at prime seating time. To not show would be unacceptably rude.” She waved her hand as if this was casual.
