Chapter 8
Cienna
Reed and I panted, breathless from adrenaline, as we walked back to the cabana.
The sand was hot under my feet, and each step invigorated the pulsing energy coursing through me.
I thought back to so many things I had wanted to try but had been too scared.
Roller coasters at Great America. Hiking Yosemite Falls.
Helicopter rides in Maui. A tattoo in honor of my grandmother.
If I could time travel to each of those instances where fear won and stopped me from experiencing something new, I would hop on that coaster, hike up that fall, view the Maui coast from above, and happily endure having a daisy, my grandmother’s favorite flower, engraved on my wrist for me to glimpse at each day.
Reed stopped halfway up the beach and caught my arm. “You. Were. Amazing.”
I gulped under his praise. My morning affirmation of “I can do hard things” rang true for once.
But I wanted to tell him I’d never been that brave before.
Wanted to thank him for being at my side and believing in me, not pushing, but encouraging me.
More so, I wanted to dust my hand across his lips and remind him of the kiss we’d almost had.
The kiss I wanted so badly but still wasn’t brave enough to take for myself.
Sadly, the moment passed when I hesitated, and he continued to drag me toward our cabana.
We paused at the threshold, shocked by the total rearrangement of our space. A woman stood there, holding a carafe of hot water. “You’ll need to strip your clothes. Completamente desnuda.”
My head snapped to Reed. Huh?
He cleared his throat, scratching his neck. “She said ‘completely naked.’”
I pressed my lips together and glanced around the cabana.
Candles, essential oils, steaming bowls.
I finally met the woman’s eyes as she looked between us and smiled.
“I have robes for you.” She pointed down to the ground where two piles of towels and a robe were set, on at the a large spread out blanket.
A Beautiful thick blanket, with bold colors and designs. I actually wouldn’t mind a nap on that. But definitely clothed. Fully.
The woman shuffled around with the drapery in front of the cabana. She untied each side and let it fall, closing off our view of the beach. And the beach’s view of us. Then she patted a set of robes she’d set out. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Another surprise from the brochure you have hidden away?”
Reed twisted his lips, and his shoulders rose with a deep breath before he answered, “The brochure said couples massage. I didn’t think that required naked… ness.”
An awkward silence stretched between us until the sound of Reed rubbing his hands together broke the quiet.
“You go first. I’ll turn away.” He put his arms up in a surrendering gesture.
“Promise I won’t peek.” He began to turn to face away from me, but his lingering gaze didn’t match his words of promise.
“Unless you want me to peek,” he quipped before cupping his hands over his face.
I stared at the robe, folded neatly on the blankets, then flicked my eyes back to Reed.
As agreed, his back was still turned. Hesitantly, I undressed.
Top first, then I flung the robe over me before scooting out of my bottoms. The touch of air on my naked body was a cooling contrast to the sun-kissed, slightly burned skin.
And the softness of the robe added comfort to areas I didn’t realize were sore.
Being naked had never felt so good, but I pulled the robe around my front and tied it at the waist, letting out a sigh.
“You okay back there?” Reed tossed over his shoulder.
“Yep.”
“All right.” His voice was unsure. “No rush. Just let me know when you’re—”
“I’m ready.” I double-checked the knot at my waist, then busied my hands by folding my clothes.
He turned, still shielding his eyes, a grin on full display. Parting his fingers, he feigned a peek. “You’re sure?”
No.
“Mm-hmm.”
His ear-to-ear smile dropped as soon as he fully uncovered his eyes. “Oof.” A pained expression flickered across his face while he ran his hands through his hair.
“Oof?” I mirrored his words and smoothed down the robe, turning and looking for some sort of wardrobe mishap.
“You’re just…” He paused and waved his hand up and down in front of him. “You.”
He let out a loud breath and stepped in front of me. His eyes were a swirling midnight forest locked on mine. Shivers danced down my spine as he gently tucked some stray hairs behind my ear before reaching over his head and pulling his shirt off.
Heat radiated from his bare chest, but he cupped my cheek and swiped his thumb over my skin, distracting me from the warmth.
“You are fucking amazing.” Not a hint of amusement colored his voice, only steel and smolder.
“And just when I thought there was nothing hotter than you conquering the shit out of parasailing, here you are in a fucking robe.” He let out a puff of air, as I grasped for some myself.
He took a few steps back, grabbed his robe, and turned.
I stared while he flung it over his shoulders and shimmied out of his shorts.
They pooled on the ground, showing a hint of taco-printed boxers.
I giggled, and he let out a fake gasp. “Cienna, are you peeking back there?”
“Nope!” I spun and faced the wall, covering my eyes the same way he had. I barely had my balance before his arms wrapped around my waist. My heart rate picked up so fast I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Admit it, you were peeking.”
I could sense the smug smile in his voice as he rested his chin on my shoulder, his stubble prickling my ear. The flutters across my skin left an ache for more touching. Anywhere. Everywhere.
Before I could think better of it, I turned in his arms, immediately flushing with heat that pooled lower and lower.
His cheeks reddened too, and while it could have been from the sun, I was pretty sure it was from the same realization I had.
There was nothing between us but some terry cloth held in place with a knot—something I was equally thankful and regretful to have in the way.
Behind Reed, the drapery moved, catching my attention. A man entered and beamed at us, his eyes crinkling at the corners like smiling was his default expression. “Oh my, the aura between you two is zapping with sparks. I love working with couples who are already connected on that level.”
Reed lifted his brows and grinned, then turned to greet the man.
“I’m Sebas, your massage specialist.”
We shook hands, and then he clasped his hands together, dropping them in front of his body while looking at us expectantly.
I could barely focus. My body was still simmering, the feel of Reed pressed against me lingering.
“Who’s first?” Sebas kneeled on the blanket, straightening it out with strokes along the beautiful patterns. I looked at Reed, and he glanced down at me, then asked, “First?”
“Who is being massaged first, and who is the massager?” His smile was still so vibrant.
He clearly loved his work—whatever it was.
Noticing our perplexed faces, he clarified, “This is a couples massage instruction session, so we start with one of you treating the other to the art of touch, then exchange places.”
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly parched. Reed nudged me with his arm, then answered, “I’ll massage first.”
Sebas patted the blanket, and Reed hesitantly kneeled to join him. “You’ll start by sitting crisscross right here”—Sebas tapped a spot in front of him—“and Cienna, you’ll start by lying on your back, your head in his lap. I like to refer to it as the nest.”
Reed sat how Sebas instructed, ensuring his robe was folded across his front. He patted his lap. “My nest is ready for you, babe.” The glow of mischief in his eyes calmed my nerves, and I forced down a smile.
I eased myself down, lying on my back, and scooted until my head hovered over Reed’s crossed legs. His gaze burned through me as he cupped the back of my head, holding me in his… nest. “
This okay?” he whispered with a visible swallow.
I’d trusted this man to fly me five hundred feet in the air.
Every hand hold, skin graze—every single touch had me yearning for more.
I was used to anxiety kicking every decision up a notch, overthinking, hiding from new experiences or anything that made me remotely uncomfortable.
But this was okay. Exhilarating, but okay.
I nodded with a cleansing breath, closing my eyes and burrowing into his hands.
His breath hitched. “Don’t move.” In my world, those words equaled a wasp flying by, a spider crawling on me, or a velociraptor stalking me from behind. My body froze, as I was told, but my eyes flew open. “How big is it?” I asked, running through what little I knew of spiderology in Mexico.
He tilted his head with the sexiest smirk I’d seen yet.
“What is your infatuation with size?”
“I’m not joking, where is it? Is it fuzzy?”
“Huh?”
“The spider. It’s a spider, right? Can you just get it off me?” I begged while squirming.
“I said don’t move,” he mumbled through clenched teeth.
Then it hit me. Like, literally. Nudged. The back of my head.
He lifted his brows with a knowing look.
So it is big.
A flash of hunger for control shot through me, but I rubbed my hand down my face, too embarrassed to even comprehend acting further, bolder.
Soft music played through a speaker, quiet enough not to drown out the ocean, but still magically tamped down the buzz of people feet away on the beach.
“All righty.” Sebas’s calming voice joined us again.
I focused my attention on him, trying hard not to move an inch, playing nice.
A slick sound filled the air as he rubbed his hands together.
He knelt next to us, his proximity drawing a flinch from me, but Reed’s thumbs rubbed my ears, making this bizarre situation bearable.