Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
preston
I try to save the day as best I can. We hit Lily’s favorite playgrounds, catch a movie, and I let her have more sugar than she would have if she’d been trick or treating. We wrap it up with a stop at the toy store, where she picks one thing and makes a full list for her birthday.
She asks for fried chicken for dinner, and that’s our final stop before I bring her home, happier than she was at breakfast, tummy full, and half asleep.
When we get back, Mia’s curled upon the couch with her laptop balanced on her knees. She glances up, smiling, and it hits me how comforting that’s already become. Just her… being here.
“Go brush your teeth, Lil. I’ll be there in a second.” I sink down beside Mia, rubbing the back of my neck. “We talked.” She lifts an eyebrow, waiting. “She took it better than I expected,” I admit.
Mia smiles, appearing unsurprised, but she doesn’t say I told you so like I would have.
I roll my head side to side, trying to ease the tension. My neck cracks both ways.
She winces. “Jesus. That was your spine crying for help.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“That doesn’t make it better, Dr. Preston.”
I huff a laugh. “I’ll survive.”
“Okay, so this is actually perfect.”
“I’m glad my pain suits you, Miss Thorne.”
She laughs, and it’s melodical.
“No, silly. This is how I prove to you that massages will make a big difference in your routine. And I’m not even that good at them.
” She closes her laptop and sets it on the coffee table.
Mia turns to me, but unfortunately, stops before her hands reach my shoulders.
“Oh, wait. You need to tuck Lily in. Go do that and I’ll grab some oil from my room. ”
Oh, this is going to end up badly. The best kind of bad.
* * *
Lily falls asleep in record time, and I can’t help wondering if that’s a sign.
I make sure to close her door before I head down.
When I get to the living room, there’s a new bottle on the coffee table.
The label matches her shampoo. I can only hope the scent does, too.
I rub sweaty hands on my pants. This is really happening.
I sit, spine straight, my back to Mia.
“Hmm…” The sound isn't quite steady, like even her voice is unsure if this is a good idea. “Would you… mind taking off your shirt? It just… kind of defeats the purpose of the massage if I’m wrestling fabric the whole time.”
This right here—this is the line we cross and can’t come back from. But I’m the one carrying torches and gasoline to erase it from existence. I’m the one lying awake in bed with ludicrous plans to launch that line into the stratosphere.
Shirt is off in a single pull.
Keeping my breath even is the first challenge of the night. I close my eyes and listen to the slick glide of oil warming between her palms.
She squeezes my shoulders too tight, fingers digging too deep.
I grunt.
A groan slips out next. Not the good kind.
Then I mutter, “Jesus.”
“What?” she asks.
I scrunch my shoulders, then wiggle to release the tension. “Let’s try a different technique, okay? This time, use the pads of your fingers, not the tips.” Thank goodness she’s a fast learner. “That’s it.” My shoulders drop instantly.
“Better?” Mia checks.
“So much. You can add a liiiittle more pressure. Perfect.” I’m holding in moans instead of grunts now. “Focus on your thumbs. Start with small circles, then make them wider.” Mia works on my neck, then across the expanse of my shoulders.
“I like this oil you’re using, Mia. Smells just like your hair.” Her hands stutter for a millisecond—oh yeah, I notice. I wonder but keep it to myself not to throw her off again, if it’s edible. I’d still lick it off her skin if it wasn’t. Hell, I’d do it even if it were poisonous.
“Ow.” It slips out as I flinch.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. There’s a bump there.”
I turn my head around and see her hands hovering. I take one and set it back on my skin. “It’s okay. It’s a tension knot. It’s where I need you the most.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. This is why you need a professional.”
“You won’t hurt me. I’ll talk you through it.” I reach for her other hand and place it on my shoulder. “Trust me.”
“I’m not sure if I should.”
“But you’re going to, aren’t you?”
“Dr. Cocky much?”
My cock is twitching. So I’ll focus on that damn knot and possibly on some pain to make sure things stay down.
“First, let’s warm up the area. Sweep your palms up and down my back.
Make sure you go over the knot with very little pressure.
” God, it hurts. When I remember to breathe again, I give her the next instruction.
“Now we’re going to pin and stretch. Find the spot and apply more pressure.
I’ll roll my shoulders until the knot eases a bit. ”
Mia does every little thing that I ask. Such a good girl. I can’t help but imagine all the things she wants to learn, and how badly I want to be the one who teaches her.
“Harder, Mia,” I tell her, but no amount of pain can soften my dick now.
“Wait a minute. You know exactly how to do this, don’t you?”
“Comes with the job,” I grunt out and open my eyes in search of a pillow to cover my lap with. Just my luck. They’re all on Mia’s side of the couch. “It’s a massive part of rehab.”
“Okay, Doctor. So you are familiar with the benefits of massage and therefore need no convincing whatsoever.” She presses harder to make her point. I chuckle through the ache. She’s got me there. “It’s a shame you can’t reach your own back.”
“I’d still choose your hands over anyone else’s. Every time. You’re a natural, Mia.”
Mia clears her throat before asking, “Feeling any better?”
I look back at her. “A lot. Thank you, Miss Thorne.”
“Oh, please. I just rubbed your bare back with oil. That should earn me first-name privileges.” She turns my shoulders her way. “Can I book the masseuse now?”
“No.” This is ridiculous. We’re having this conversation with my back to her.
“But you’re feeling better. And you know how beneficial they are.”
I roll my shirt into a ball, lay it on top of my boner and stand up, facing her. “You really think massages are a fundamental part of your plan?”
“Yes.” She stands too.
“And you believe it’s imperative to my physical and mental health that I have them twice a week?”
“I do. And you kno—”
“Fine, then you’ll give them.”
“Excuse me?”
“I loathe the idea of a stranger touching me, and you did a stellar job tonight.” I smile and stretch my neck and shoulders, without moving my hands away from my dick.
“We make a good team, Mia. I can teach you everything you want to learn.” My cock gets painfully hard at the innuendos meant with that.
And at the way she can’t stop staring at my torso. “I’ll take your silence as agreement.”
“No. I mean, I don’t know. Can you put your shirt on?”
“Why?”
Her jaw moves but words fail her on her first try. “It-it helps me think.”
Sense fails her on her second.
“My shirt helps you think?” There’s nothing more entertaining—or cuter—than seeing Mia all flustered.
“Yes. What? No. Dr. Preston, you’re not helping.”
“Neither are you.” I lick my lips, desperate for a taste of hers. “Go to bed, Mia.”
Her pinballing eyes land on my groin, and she gets the answer as to why I can’t put my shirt on. She looks up at me, then down again, eyes doubling in size and acknowledgment.
My mouth starts running. “Please don’t see this as a sign of disrespect. If anything, take it as a compliment.” What the actual fuck am I saying? “This hasn’t happened in a very, very long time.”
“But you were married.”
“And taking blue pills for far too many years.” My arms fall at my side. Not sure if it’s shame or defeat.
“Dr. Preston,” Mia whispers as she steps closer, oil slick between her fingertips. “We don’t need to talk about it.” She’s so close the pull between us tightens. “I mean… it’s biological, right? You’re reacting to someone’s touch. It’s not personal or anything.”
Not personal? Has she forgotten how my dick greeted her on her first day here when I found her towel-less in my hallway?
I lean in and the pull intensifies. Sparking, crackling. We’re closer, so close, but I don’t touch her. My breath does, though.
“That’s not true at all. Make no mistake, Mia. My body is reacting to your touch. This is how my body answers to you, and you only.”
Without ceremony, I step back and adjust myself inside my pants while Mia watches openly, mouth agape.
“Sweet dreams, Mia. I think I’ll sleep better tonight with your scent for company.” I watch the rise and fall of her full breasts, and congratulate myself on not lingering there.
I’m on the stairs, heading up, when I turn just enough to check she’s still there. I don’t dare face her as I add, after a deep breath, “When I close my eyes, it’ll feel like you’re in bed with me.”