Chapter 18
“Incriminatin’ Claus Marks on Her Back”
“Where is everyone?” Greyson eyed the dim blue halls of The Haven, not used to seeing them so quiet or empty.
“It’s Sunday, so most of our guests check out by eleven, and the new round of residents don’t typically check in until mid-week. Aside from spa appointments, yoga, and morning tea, we don’t have a lot going on at this time.”
For years, he kept his visits public, only allowing himself to see her in broad daylight to keep himself in check. “I guess I’m usually gone by now.”
She looked back at him and smiled. She’d been doing that a lot. And when she wasn’t near him, she was on his mind. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her all day.
One crack in the dam had brought all of his barriers crumbling down. The carefully constructed walls he’d built over the years lay in ruins around his feet, and he found himself both terrified and exhilarated by the exposure.
His gaze drifted back to the doors. “You should lock up if no one else is expected for the day.”
“I like to leave the studio available for meditation. We still have a few guests who prefer to retreat in private. And you never know when someone might stop by.”
Exactly, he thought. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone here at night—“
“I’m not alone. I have you here to protect me.” Another enchanting smile nearly distracted him from his concern, but he didn’t like overlooking possible security risks, especially where Wren was involved.
He’d order some cameras to install next week. Hideaway Harbor might have one of the lowest crime rates in the Northeast, but he wasn’t taking any risks.
She turned to face him, taking his hands as she walked backward toward the massage room, towing him along. “Relax, Grey. It’s just a little backrub.”
Her laughter teased his senses, putting him at ease, but he dragged his feet anyway, if only for the chance to look at her a little longer.
Christ, she looked too pretty like this—playful and in her element.
He loved the way The Haven added to her confidence.
She knew what she wanted and she had brought all her dreams into reality.
Watching her succeed filled him with a pride so fierce it sometimes took his breath away.
He’d been there to witness her whole dream unfold, and knowing he’d played even a small part in its creation made something warm settle in his chest.
“Don’t be shy.” She pulled him through the door at the end of the hall.
He followed her into the massage room like a man walking to his own execution.
She knew full well that he wasn’t getting naked on her table.
He didn’t need a massage. A hot shower and some ice would do the trick.
But he’d play along for a bit, let her feel around, then they’d head back to his place and—
“Hand him over.” She held out a hand.
“Huh?”
“Tinsel.”
He laughed at her stubborn refusal to let him name the cat. “You mean Rat?” He dug the kitten out of his hood, and it hissed with irritation. The little creature had been sound asleep.
She rolled her eyes as the little warrior caught her thumb with his tiny murder mittens. Unconcerned with the kitten’s fury, Wren carried him out of the room.
Greyson frowned with the concern of a helicopter parent. “What did you do with him?”
“He’s safe.”
His stare lingered on the door as she gently shut it.
“You can take off your coat and start undressing.”
“What’s that now?” His brows shot up.
“Are you really going to challenge me every step of the way?” She pressed her front to his and rose on her toes to brush a teasing kiss across his lips.
All reluctance shifted into complete agreeability the moment her mouth touched his. Her arms wound around his neck, and the tension in his body melted like ice in sunshine.
“Mmm,” she moaned. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”
His cock had been maintaining a semi since dawn, but now it stood as a solid slab of granite. He kissed her again, a little more possessively and with a lot more hunger. When he pushed her back to the door, she giggled and turned her cheek, gently prying him off of her.
“Massage first. We don’t want that back injury disrupting any of your…extracurricular plans, Mr. Hawthorne.”
She had a point. He had planned numerous extracurricular activities for the near future. And he wanted his performance unhindered.
She patted his chest and slipped out of his hold. “Clothes off.”
Warm light glowed from a salt lamp in the corner. Something lavender-scented hung in the air like a gentle caress. The massage table looked harmless enough—until he thought about lying face-down on it naked—with a massive hardon.
The room felt smaller now, more intimate with the door closed and the soft lighting creating pools of shadow in the corners. Heat seemed to radiate from the table itself, and he could hear the gentle hum of whatever system kept the space warm and inviting.
While she busied herself at the counter, he stripped off his coat and adjusted his stubborn cock.
He took in the room and knew the layout well, since he built the damn thing, but the last time he stood in here it wasn’t painted and didn’t have all the plants and equipment set up.
Wren softly hummed and swayed her hips as she organized whatever she prepared over at the little sink. Did she have to be so damn sexy? His cock grew harder by the second.
He tried to think of everything that turned him off, but his mind blanked and his dick throbbed when her raspy voice teased through the silence like an erotic caress.
“Is it warm enough in here for you?”
He grunted as he cautiously watched her. She moved with quiet authority about the space, completely in her element.
When she dimmed the lights another notch and lit a candle, he knew he was fucked. Then she hit a switch on the wall, and tranquil music started to play over the sound of trickling water and thunder in the distance.
“You’re still dressed.” She rolled a fresh white towel into a bolster.
“I, uh, guess I’m a little nervous.” Was seducing a massage therapist legal if you already had seen them naked and brought them to orgasm? The professional boundaries blurred.
“There’s no need to be nervous. I’m a professional.” Her voice was gentle but clinical. “You’re going to lie face down with your head in the cradle, completely covered with a sheet.”
Did she honestly think nudity made him nervous? He was more worried about keeping control of his impulses and not throwing her over that table and fucking her hard into next week.
She’s still a virgin. She’s still a virgin. She’s still a virgin…
The reminder grounded him, but also reinforced how badly he wanted to get inside her. She wouldn’t be a virgin for long. And then he would forever own that part of her.
His.
His cock stiffened another inch as his throat tightened. “Wren—”
She silenced him with a kiss. “No more excuses, Grey. In here, I’m in charge.”
Christ, he would break his dick on that damn table. She tugged at his shirt and he caught her wrist. “I’ve got it.” If they proceeded, she couldn’t touch him.
How will that work, genius? Her hands will be all over you…
He stiffly pulled off his shirt and removed his belt. He hesitated at the button of his constricting jeans. “Is it cool if I keep my pants on?”
She smiled and executed a sexy little eye roll. “If that helps you, fine. But you’ll get more out of it if you’re naked.” She pulled back the crisp white sheet draped over the table and turned around to give him privacy. “Once you’re ready, get under the sheet and we’ll begin.”
He was so royally fucked.
He shoved down his jeans, and his erection angled toward her like a stiff German hunting pointer. Thankfully, the table had enough padding that he could make it work. He shoved his cock down and gently lowered to his stomach, unsure where to put his arms.
Pulling the sheet over his ass, he dropped his face in the hole. “Ready.”
“Good.” She adjusted the sheet. “Lift your feet. I’m going to put the bolster under them to make it a little more comfortable for you.”
The rolled towel helped distribute his weight more evenly. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe a little slower.
“I’ll start with some light effleurage to warm the tissue. Let me know if anything feels too intense.”
Effleurage? What the hell was effleurage? It sounded like something that should be illegal in at least three states.
He cleared his throat. “Got it.”
“Just a warning, I’ll need access to your lower back and glutes. Are there any areas you want me to avoid?”
He literally wanted her hands everywhere. “Nope.”
The first caress sent a shockwave of pleasure straight to his groin.
“You’re tense. Try to relax, Grey. I’ve got you.”
I’ve got you…
Why did those words hit like a punch to the chest?
No one had ever said that to him before—not in a way that felt true.
He’d spent his entire life being the one who took care of others, who solved problems and fixed things.
The idea that someone could take care of him, that he could let go and trust someone else to hold him together, was both foreign and desperately needed.
Swallowing hard, he prayed to every deity that his enthusiasm remained hidden.
Think of hunting. Think of fishing. Think of her dad. No, wait—don’t think of her dad. Shit.
The massage started light, her palms gliding over his back in long, fluid strokes like silk against skin. She pressed down, slow and even, tracing along his spine, then out to his lats. Restraining a moan was difficult.
Did other people moan in these sorts of situations? Was this always so…sexual? He didn’t liked the idea of her doing this to other men.
“Your paraspinals are working overtime,” she murmured, breath teasing softly down his spine. “I can feel the tension along your erector spinae, especially the left side.”
Wait ’til she discovered the tension in the front side erector…