chapter twenty-four
RILEY
Aferal growl rumbles in my throat as I stare at Riles’s delicious body, my hands itching to reach out and take her in my arms. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”
She releases one hand from behind her back, brings it forward, and swirls her damn finger at me. “Turn. Around.”
“Okay,” I say, chuckling at her stubbornness.
“Thank you.”
I snatch up my towel and lie on my stomach, obediently turning my head in the opposite direction. “You’re not welcome.”
The leather of her bed squeaks as she shuffles behind me, which is when I catch her movement in the reflection of the window, her image distorted but clear enough for me to admire.
Waiting for her to remove her bra, my heartbeat thuds in my chest. I should look away. It’s the right thing to do. But there’s no way in hell I can, even if I tried, even if I wanted to, which I sure as shit don’t.
My cock hardens uncomfortably as she takes a step closer, tilts her head, and drags her eyes over my back, her arm reaching out, hand hovering.
I anticipate her touch, my skin tingling, but she retracts her hand, presses her fingers to her lips, and then turns her back to me before sliding the straps from her shoulders.
Covering up, she practically barrel-rolls onto her bed, landing facedown. “Okay, you can look now.”
I stifle my amusement and turn my head, my breath instantly catching in my throat. “You’re so damn beautiful, Riles.”
Modesty blushes her cheeks, so I reach out and drag my knuckle along her arm, desperate to feel her soft skin, when a knock at the door halts my hand.
“Allo? May we enter?”
“Yes,” Riles calls out, voice strained.
Rearranging my position so I’m not spearing the bed with my hard-on, a cool breeze settles over my back as two women enter the room, each of them positioning themselves by our sides.
“Welcome,” one of them says. “Are you both comfortable?”
I squirm again. “Not particularly.”
The woman closest to me bends down, blocking my view of Riles, her stern but pleasant face mere inches from mine. “First time?”
“Yes.”
She smacks her hands together, links her fingers, then stretches her arms away from her body. “Relax. You enjoy. I make you feel good.”
My eyes widen.
“Face in hole,” she adds.
Face in what?
She points to a towel underneath my head and then parts it, revealing an opening in the table. “Head down.”
I stiffen. “Put my head in that?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s not big enough.”
“You fit.”
Slowly pressing my face into the gap, what feels like a thousand tiny pins prick the length of my spine, my chest tightening, my hands restless and clammy.
I instantly jerk back, damned if I’ll be doing that again.
“What wrong?” She squirts oil onto her hands, rubs them together, and then places her palms on my shoulders, coaxing me down.
I push against her.
“He’s claustrophobic,” Riles mutters.
“Just turn to side then,” the woman says, clasping my face with her slimy fingers and gently rotating my head.
Riles giggles, and I want to toss a ticking clock at her until she reaches for my hand and rests the side of her head on her towel, facing me. “Don’t worry. It’s not just you. I don’t particularly like the hole either. I end up with a headache and weird indentations on my face.”
“And this is supposed to be enjoyable?” I ask, confused.
“It will be. Just relax. Stop fighting it.”
Reluctantly doing as she says, her soothing misty eyes chasing mine, I lose myself in their depth while our masseuses massage our shoulders and necks.
Riles’s heavy eyelids fall shut, her hand slipping from mine as her arm falls limp by her side.
I close my eyes as well, peace immobilizing my body and mind, my breathing shallow, the tension from signing my divorce papers and discarding my wedding ring squeezed, kneaded, and worked out of me.
I allow the purge and let go of everything I’ve been through, the loss, the lies, the fallout, relief a comforting blanket when the crushing weight of it all literally lifts from my body.
“Ohhh, gaaawd,” Riles murmurs, a soft, sensual moan escaping her lips.
I snap my eyes open and blink, her body gloriously oiled, her expression erotically sated.
She moans again, and my cock stirs in response.
“Turn over now,” my masseuse instructs.
What? Hell no!
Slamming my eyes shut again, I pretend to be asleep.
“Allo?” She pats my shoulder. “Wakey wakey.”
If I “wakey wakey,” you’ll see my “snakey snakey,” and there’s no fucking way I’m allowing that.
“Riley,” Riles whispers, her fingers gently squeezing my arm. “Wake up. It’s time to roll over.”
I play dead, a game I’m a seasoned champion at, thanks to Poppy.
She jiggles my arm.
Damn it!
“Riiileyyy!”
Shut up!
The masseuse karate chops my back, making me bow and spring up to my elbows. “Jesus!”
“Allo!” She bends down, her face once again mere inches from mine. “You wake up now.”
“We’re finished?” I ask, not waiting for a reply. “Brilliant! I feel like a new man. Thank you very much.”
“No! Not finished.” She lifts my towel. “You lie on back now.”
I snatch it from her. “No. I’m done.”
“No. You lie on back.”
“No. I stay on front.”
Riles raises her head and rubs her eyes. “You need to turn over so they can do your quads.”
“My quads are fine.”
“Uh-ah,” the woman says, her fingers painfully digging into my hamstring. “Much tension in legs. I help with that.”
I wince and shake her off me. “No, thank you.”
Riles rises to her elbows as well, and I catch sight of the side of her breast before she covers up with her towel and flips onto her back.
Jesus Christ, sweetheart. You’re not helping my case.
She frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“So turn over.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can.”
I give her my best I-have-an-erection face.
She gives me the same face back.
What the hell?
Blinking at her, I’m ready to just stand the hell up and own it, when her eyes shoot toward my groin, then back to my face.
“Really?” she asks.
“Yes, really.”
“Oh!” She presses her lips together, clasps her towel to her chest, sits up, and blurts, “Thank you. That was wonderful, but we’re done.”
My masseuse shakes her finger. “No. Not done.”
“Yes,” Riles affirms, “we are. You were both fabulous.”
Muttering something in another language, the woman shrugs at her colleague before they wash their hands and leave the room.
“Thank fuck for that,” I say, hanging my head.
“Sooo, you enjoyed yourself then?” Riles drawls.
I pin her with my stare. “I enjoyed listening to you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You were moaning.”
“Was I?”
I roll my neck. “Yep.”
“Sorry. It was… good.”
“I could tell,” I deadpan.
Sliding off her bed, she moves closer and trails her fingertip down my back. “Turn over.”
I almost choke. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Given my current state, that’s not a good idea.”
“I think it’s a very good idea.”
“Riles,” I warn.
“What?”
“Don’t tease me. My restraint is thin.”
“So is mine.”
“I thought you wanted to wait.”
She drops her towel.
Fuuuck!
Slowly rising, my eyes not leaving her milky skin and pebbled nipples, I plant my feet on the ground, slide my hands onto her hips, and tug her closer, my hard-on pressing against her stomach. She sucks in a breath and reaches down, cupping her hand over me and gently squeezing.
I hiss. “We need to leave.”
“Do we?” she prompts, her voice raspy and sexy as hell.
“Riles”—I crawl my fingers up her side and palm her breast—“I can’t do all the things I want to do to you here. So yes, we’re leaving.” I smash my lips to hers while fumbling with the robe at the end of her bed. “Put this on.”
“Shouldn’t we get dressed?”
“What’s the point?”
She contemplates my answer. “True.”
After throwing on my robe, I grab our clothes and shoes and secure her hand, dragging her out of the room and along a corridor, passing staff members as they move aside.
“Thank you,” Riles calls out, waving at them as she shuffles behind me.
I try to wave too but drop her bra, so I bend over when she crashes into me, both of us tumbling onto the floor.
“Shit! Are you okay?” I ask, rolling her giggling body onto her back before hovering over her.
“Yes. Are you?”
The lapel of her robe falls aside just slightly, so I run my finger along the seam.
A woman clears her throat.
We both look up.
“Is everything okay here?”
Riles scrambles beneath me, her knee plowing my balls into my gut. “Yes,” she blurts, kicking me off her. “Sorry, we fell.”
“Jesus,” I cough out, cupping my nuggets while slumping onto my side.
She gives me an “oops” face.
“It was her fault we fell,” I say, voice strained.
“It was not.” She gets to her feet and begrudgingly helps me up before collecting her bra. “We were just leaving.”
“I see,” the woman bites out, then presses her lips together and steps aside, so we hurry past her, me hobbling like an old-timer, Riles’s head downcast.
“Did I break your balls?” she whispers.
“Almost.”
“Sorry, but they were in my way.” She picks up her pace and calls out, “Hold the door!” as the elevator begins to close.
We bundle into the death box, both of us staring straight ahead, Riles nibbling her lip in an attempt to chew back her amusement.
“I’m glad you found that funny,” I murmur.
“It was.”
I clench my jaw, beyond ready to get back to the cabin to finish what we started, to get her naked and—
“Mummy, why are they in pajamas?” a little girl with the cutest Australian accent standing behind us asks her mother.
“They’re not, sweetie.”
I glance over my shoulder while Riles stifles a giggle.
“He has hair on his face like Uncle Will.”
I rub my beard, and Riles bursts into laughter.
“Shhh, little Minty,” the mother says, lifting her daughter and settling her on her hip. “I’m so sorry. She takes after me and blurts out whatever she’s thinking.”
The doors open, and I exit the elevator faster than the first time I ever stepped foot in one, expecting Riles to do the same when she turns around instead, tickles the little girl’s knee, and says, “Byyye.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I wait while Riles waves and backs out of the elevator, the mother waving her daughter’s hand in return.
“Naww, how cute,” Riles says as she turns around and slams straight into my chest. “What—”
My eyes flare.
She rears back.
Grinning like the devil, I squat down and secure her waist before tossing her over my shoulder.
“Riley! Put me down!”
“No can do, sweetheart.”
“Stop it! I’ll flash people.”
I lift her robe, slide my hand underneath, and rub her ass as I carry her along the corridor.
“Oh my God! Will you stop it!” She growls and tries to wriggle free, but it’s no use—she’s not going anywhere.
Stopping at the cabin door, I pat my robe with my free hand, realizing I don’t have my lanyard. “Shit!”
“Problem?” she asks, a cocky tone to her voice.
“Where’s the damn card?”
“I have it.”
“Hand it over.”
“Put me down.”
“Riles,” I warn.
“Riley!” she warns back.
Gritting my teeth, I glide my hand up the back of her leg and slap her ass.
“Ouch!”
“Open the door. Now!”
“You just smacked—”
“Riles,” I warn again. “If you don’t open this door, I’ll fuck you right here in the hallway.”
She scoffs. “You will not.”
I gently sink my teeth into her thigh. “Try me.”
“Okay, okay. Here, take the damn card.”
Snatching it from her, I fumble with the slot until it unlocks, then push the door open with my foot and stride inside.
Riles straightens her body, slides down my front, and before her feet even hit the floor, she shimmies her robe from her shoulders and slams her lips to mine, her hands wild in my hair, her knee lifting to press against my hip.
I grunt into her mouth, clench her ass, and lift her up, spinning us until her shoulders hit the wall. She gasps and locks her ankles behind my back, her head arcing and baring her neck. Never have I wanted to taste skin so badly, to bury my head into a woman and get lost in her scent.
Bracing my hand against the wall, I lean forward and nip the soft spot below her ear, nibbling and kissing before trailing my tongue to the top of her cleavage.
She moans, and I close my eyes, savoring the sexy sound. Fuck, I’ve missed this.
Palming her breast, I rub the pad of my thumb over her nipple before gently pinching it. She gasps again, so I press my mouth to hers, swallowing her pleasure and soft, shallow pants.
“Riley,” she rasps out, her hands cupping my cheeks.
I pull back, my breathing heavy. “Tell me what you want.”
Her eyes chase mine, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. “You.”
“You already have me,” I whisper, smiling as I nudge the crook of her neck with my nose.
Because she does.