Never Say Never: Gravel Hill Boys Book Two

36. Madison

Ian Donohue had takenover my entire existence.

Everywhere I looked there were books on pregnancy and childrearing. Fresh flowers covered nearly every flat surface in my house. Bunches of fresh lavender and eucalyptus hung in my shower to help me relax, and my sheets had been spritzed with an infusion of lavender.

He hired a chef to prepare meals that were high in nutrients and would help naturally reduce my blood pressure.

As if all that wasn’t enough, he hid my laptop.

I couldn’t take it anymore. He’d not only taken over my apartment, he’d highjacked my life.

Tucking my phone into the pocket of my shorts, I slipped into the bathroom and pressed Liane’s number. It rang four times before she answered.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice low and raspy.

“You need to come home. He’s driving me crazy.”

I heard groaning and shuffling. “Jesus, Mads. I just fell asleep.”

“I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t important.”

“Just ignore him. That’s what I do.”

“How can I ignore him?” I whisper-shouted. “He’s always watching me. He makes me eat weird stuff. He stole my laptop. And my home smells like a funeral parlor.”

Silence.

“Liane?”

A low groan. “Mmph.”

“Liane!”

“Goddamn it, Mads. I’m exhausted.”

“You can sleep on the plane. Pack your bags and head to the airport. I’d book your ticket but your watchdog won’t give me my laptop, so you’re on your own.”

“Madison, stop. I can’t leave yet. I’m sure that whatever Ian is doing is for your own good.”

“Ha!”

“If he’s driving you crazy, then stop letting him.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would I let him drive me crazy?”

“You’re in control of your emotions. Stop letting him affect you.”

I repeated all the things he was doing that bugged me and again insisted she get back immediately. She didn’t see it that way.

“Everything he’s doing comes from a good place. He’s thinking about the baby and doing what’s best for her and for you. Your job right now is to relax and destress. If you can’t do it with Ian, then maybe you should find Tatty and go sit in a yurt somewhere.”

“Very funny.”

“I don’t know what you want from me?—”

“I want you to come home.”

“Not happening. I got Trevor out of jail, but he’s under house arrest here at the hotel until we get the charges dropped. And the only way I was able to get him out was to agree to be responsible for him and make sure he doesn’t flee the country.”

“Then we’ll drop him as a client. Let him get a new publicist. He’s a mess anyway. In fact, let’s stop representing musicians. I’m going to have Samantha send an email out first thing tomorrow morning and?—”

There was a loud groan on the other end. “Mads. Stop it. We’re not quitting on anyone. I’ve got things under control here as best I can, but I can’t leave. Samantha and I are in close contact, and I’m dealing with everything that needs to be dealt with. And I promise, the minute I’m able, I will get on the first plane back to the states, but until then, let Ian take care of you. Enjoy it. He’s pampering the hell out of you. Let him.”

Clearly, she didn’t understand what I was dealing with here, but it was no use wasting my breath. She was determined to remain in London and let me suffer.

I heard voices coming from the other room, followed by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Madison, you okay? You’ve been in there for a while now.”

Damn. I couldn’t even go to the bathroom in peace.

“I have to go,” I hissed into the phone. “The warden is pounding on the door.”

She laughed. “I heard the knock, Mads. No one pounded on the door.”

“How would you know? You’re three thousand miles away.”

“Good night, Madison.”

“’Night,” I grumbled, disconnecting the phone.

I pulled the bathroom door open to find Ian leaning against the door frame. His porny arms caging me in. “You okay?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Ian. Can’t I go to the bathroom without you sending out a search party?”

I didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes, and despite my annoyance, I felt guilty, which only made me angry. It was a vicious circle.

“I have a surprise for you.” He took my hand and led me into the living room where a massage table had been set up and a woman dressed in white scrubs stood nearby. A strong aroma of lavender and mint permeated the room. “This is Beth. She specializes in prenatal massage. She’s going to help you relax.”

What I wanted to say was that if he packed his bags and headed home, I’d be able to relax, but even I was growing tired of my snarkiness. And after being scolded long distance by Liane, I could at least try to be agreeable.

The massage therapist, who kept shooting glances at the sexy bass player standing in my living room, gave me a nervous smile and stuck out her hand.

“I booked you a sixty-minute massage,” Ian said. Afterward, your manicurist is coming to give you a manicure and a pedicure.”

My initial reaction was to argue, but I held my tongue. He looked so proud of himself, and I’d been treating him like crap. A massage wouldn’t hurt, and my nails could use some attention. I smiled at the masseuse and tried to ignore the niggling voice in the back of my head saying Ian deserved some pampering after having to put up with me. Although given the way she looked at him, I wasn’t about to offer him up for her to get her mitts all over him.

After they left the room to give me some privacy, I slipped off everything but my panties and climbed onto the table she’d brought with her. It had a hole in the middle that allowed me to lie face down. That in itself made me relax as I’d missed being able to lie in that position. The last time I’d tried, Little Satsuma gave me a swift kick.

I settled my face into the hole and sighed and then alerted the massage therapist that I was ready. She draped another sheet over me, as a pair of size thirteens appeared in my field of vision.

“If it’s okay with you, I want to watch.”

“Ian,” I grumbled.

“It’s okay with me,” Beth said.

Of course it is, Beth. The man is gorgeous, rich, and a world-famous musician. Too bad it’s not your permission he needs.

“I just figured if I watched, I might learn something and be able to make you feel good between massages,” he said.

“You’re so sweet,” Beth said. “You’re a lucky girl, Ms. Enright.”

My face was too smushed to respond appropriately. Instead, I answered Ian’s Doc Martens.

“You have no idea.”

“So, I can stay?” he begged.

Is he love bombing me?

“Fine. Stay. It’s not like you’d go far anyway.”

Beth giggled.

“I’ll be quiet,” he said.

“If you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a massage afterward—on the house—to describe my technique and show you the right amount of pressure to use.”

Is she kidding right now?I lifted my head from the hole it was in and attempted to shoot her a glare, but she wasn’t in my range of vision. Ian, however, was. The bastard grinned and winked. But what he did next surprised me.

He leaned down and kissed the crown of my head. “Thanks, Beth. That’s a mighty sweet offer, but I’d rather we focus on my girl here. I’m just gonna watch and learn.”

I put my head down and tried to ignore the hot prick of tears behind my eyes. Tears caused by the hot prick who’d just kissed my head.

A few days later, a portable pregnancy massage table arrived. Ian set it up in the unused maid’s room off the foyer.

He’d also bought a massage oil warmer and a selection of massage oils that were known to be relaxing. I’d mentioned that I liked the rosemary and mint fragrance masseuse had used, and he’d apparently ordered a supply of that as well.

Trying unsuccessfully to ignore him, I continued my binge-watch of Love is Blind and snacked on Fuji apple slices dipped in peanut butter—sue me—while he puttered about with his new toys.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” I asked, intentionally obtuse.

He bent at the waist and swept his hand toward the hall leading toward the sitting room. “Your massage awaits, milady.”

“You’re a massage therapist now too?”

“Not exactly.” He held up his hands. “But these fingers have been known to create magic.”

I remembered exactly the magic those hands and those long fingers of his could do, and so did the rest of me.

A lock of hair fell over his eyes. He tossed his head back and grinned. “C’mon, let me make you feel good.”

God damn, that voice.

Did I want his hands all over me? Yes. Was I nervous about him touching me? Also yes.

Is it going to stop me?

I crossed the living room.

Apparently not.

Ian’s grin grew. He stepped aside to let me pass, and when his hand touched my back, tingles shot through me. So much so that part of me was tempted to turn around and go right back to the sofa, while the other part wanted to climb him like a tree.

What if it wasn’t hormones or baby brain? What if thinking that he was annoying me was really me putting up a wall to keep him out? I was good at throwing up walls. But no one had ever gone so far out of their way to take care of me the way Ian had. Not unless they were paid to do so. Nannies, housekeepers, drivers, personal chefs. I was used to every need being fulfilled.

No one—not my parents, not even my beloved Gibby—had dedicated themselves to my needs like this.

The blinds were pulled shut and the only light came from candles set up around the room in a way that was decidedly romantic. Soft music played through a portable speaker, while a blend of lavender, rosemary, and mint scented the room. I took a deep breath and held it, then released it slowly.

“Get comfortable, and when you’re ready, gimme a holler.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

My throat felt thick, so I nodded.

There was nothing that said I had to remove anything. So I don’t know why I stripped down to nothing but my panties like I’d done when the massage therapist was here. But before I climbed onto the table, in some random act of insanity—hormones, right?—I slipped off my panties and buried them under the tank top and shorts I’d tossed onto the love seat. It’s not like he’d know I was completely naked unless he went under the sheet. And who’s to say I’d even let him?

And who’s to say you won’t?

The padded vinyl covering the massage table was cold, despite Ian’s best efforts to make sure I was comfortable, but I wouldn’t complain. I eased my body into place, then pulled the sheet over my back and bottom as best I could.

“Ready,” I called, wondering if Ian’s behavior was typical of other men when caring for their pregnant partner. It should be. If Ian could treat me like some type of queen and we weren’t even in a relationship, I couldn’t imagine how he would behave if we were.

“You tell me what you like, okay? If you want me to rub you harder or softer, just let me know. I’m going to try and keep it gentle unless you tell me otherwise.” His voice was soothing, but the minute he placed his hands on my shoulders, goosebumps sprung up from where he touched me and spread down my arms.

I took a shaky breath. “Okay.”

With gentle pressure, he squeezed my shoulders. His thumbs dipped into my shoulder blades and caressed my neck. When he found a knot, he increased the pressure, not quite digging into the spot, but enough to loosen it. His hands were so big, that as he continued down my back, running his thumbs along the divots of my spine, his calloused fingers traced the edges of my ribs. I had to bite my lip to keep from groaning. I was transported back to the Four Seasons, to my suite on the fifty-second floor, with the lights of my city flickering outside the windows and the man in my arms petting and caressing me as if I were somehow precious to him, even though he didn’t even know my name.

I shivered under his touch.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice soft and low. “I can drape a blanket over your shoulders.”

“I’m good.”

Ian was so tall, that standing at my head, he was still able to reach my lower back. His hands traveled further, slowing down when he came to the spot below my waist where one might expect to find the edge of my panties. He spread his fingers wide and gently held onto my hips.

“Um…you’re not… Do you want me to go lower?”

Another shiver ran through me. “Uh…sure.”

His hands gripped my ass and squeezed. If I were to look up, I knew I’d see a very different Ian than the one who initiated this massage. In fact, I was fairly certain I’d find the man who’d seduced me nearly six months ago. I raised my hips, wantonly pushing my backside against his hands. He didn’t speak, but his breathing grew heavier.

Ian continued kneading my ass while I squeezed my legs together but found no satisfaction. A frustrated growl escaped. He pulled back and I almost cried.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “Too hard?”

I lifted my hips, practically chasing his hands. “No,” I said, just as raspy. “It’s perfect.”

Warm oil dripped over my lower back, followed by Ian’s hands. This time he dug in even harder, kneading and pinching, alternating with soft, gentle caresses. I wanted him to flip me over and run those hands over my breasts and my belly. I knew what those fingers of his could do. How could I forget? I wanted them to find the—Oh god!

As if reading my mind, Ian’s hand dipped between the cheeks of my ass and slid along my slit, over the swollen lips of my pussy where he gathered my wetness along with the oil and swirled a finger against my clit. “Tell me to stop, Madison. You’re going to have to tell me to stop, because I’m not sure if I can do it on my own.”

I gripped the edge of the table. “Don’t stop,” I begged. “Whatever you do, don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” Ian groaned under his breath. A long finger slipped inside. He swirled, pulled it out, and then pushed it back in. I squirmed and sighed. After a few moments, he added another finger. My heart raced, but I didn’t care. If he could bring me to release, it would be worth it. His two fingers dipped in and out, while his thumb pressed and caressed the tight pucker that no one had breached, and in my heightened state, I was ready to beg for him to take me there. Between the movement of his talented fingers and the gentle pressure against that forbidden opening, I crawled closer to release. My body shook, and my legs trembled, and with a long, loud moan, I tumbled over the edge into a freefall that went on and on and on.

Ian slowly removed his fingers, and I whimpered greedily. I was spent but wanted more. So did he, it seemed, as within seconds, he’d bundled me into his arms and had me on my back. He dropped to his knees and had his face between my thighs and my legs over his shoulders before my first orgasm had time to fade.

He lightly nipped my inner thigh and traced the sting with his tongue. His mouth moved over me. Kissing, sucking, licking. “Is this okay?”

I reached down and ran my hand through his hair, grabbing hold of the length and tugging gently. “God, yes.”

He growled and the sound alone could have set me off. My back arched. I ran my toes over his back and up his spine, wishing he’d paused long enough to remove his shirt and allow me to feel his warm skin beneath my foot.

He ran his tongue up my slit and swirled it around the tight bundle of nerves that was already threatening to erupt. “Damn, Madison, you taste as good as I remember.”

“You remember?” I breathed out.

“Fuck, yeah. I remember everything.” He nibbled and licked, swirled and dipped. My body vibrated under his ministrations. He caught my clit in his teeth and tugged gently. “I couldn’t forget you for the longest time, but once you came back into my life and turned things upside down, I tried not to remember. But now, you’re all I can think about.”

My head spun. My breath caught. My nipples tightened. Under Ian’s hands—and that incredible mouth—I couldn’t land a single coherent thought.

Later, I would dwell on what he was saying, but for now, I gave in and tumbled over the edge. Again.