Chapter Twenty-Nine
I’m standing in a bathrobe. Outside at a vineyard, next to an extremely attractive man who is wearing only a small towel. If you think I’ve paid attention to anything the massage therapist has said in the past twenty minutes, you’d be delusional.
Because this wasn’t supposed to be a couples massage and there’s only one therapist, we’ve had to adjust as we go.
Bruce got the footage he needed—me getting a “romantic” massage alone—and then the massage therapist offered to give us a lesson.
Now it’s our turn to practice the techniques she showed us.
“Who wants to go first?” she asks, and my body hums in anticipation of physical contact with Andrew.
He must know I haven’t been paying attention because he chivalrously comes to my rescue. “I’ll go first.” I relax a little until I look at his large hands that are about to be all over my body and swallow hard.
The massage therapist turns on some light music. “Here are some massage oils to choose from,” she says. “There are also hot stones and crystals you can experiment with. Feel free to use the techniques I taught you or just play. I’m going to leave you two alone now. Enjoy your quiet, romantic time.”
She walks away, and I turn to Andrew. “What would I have done if I were alone? Massage myself?”
“That’s still an option,” Andrew says, raising his eyebrows. I playfully swat at him and then start to lose my nerve. I’m naked under this robe. At least Bruce said he’d wait for us back at the balloon and give us some privacy.
I gesture for Andrew to turn around while I disrobe and climb up onto the massage table. I pull the sheet up over me and say, “Okay.”
“Are you all right with this?” Andrew asks as he turns back around.
“Yep,” I squeak. Because while I am very much all right with this, I’m also alone with the world’s sexiest lawyer. Naked. With massage oil. My heart is pounding, and all my nerve endings are tingling.
Andrew slowly peels the sheet off me, folding it down just below my waist, and the warm breeze tickles my bare back. I hear him open the massage oil and the sound of him rubbing it into his hands makes me inhale sharply, in anticipation of his touch.
He gently begins to trail his fingers up and down my back, and the contrast between the slick oil, his rough hands, and the tender way he caresses me is already driving me crazy.
I close my eyes, trying not to freak out: Not only is Andrew touching me, but it feels even better than I imagined it would.
He starts using the technique the massage therapist must’ve taught us because it feels amazing. “How’s this feel?” he asks, his mouth right next to my ear.
A shiver goes through me. “Perfect,” I say breathlessly.
Then his hands drift lower and lower until his fingertips stroke the area that can only be described as my low lower back. “Is this okay?” he asks, his fingers hovering.
I nod, lust making me incapable of speech. I want him to go slower and faster at the same time.
His hands continue to travel farther south as they explore my body. “How about now?” Andrew asks.
“Yes,” I say. “Please keep going.”
The reaction I’m having to him seems to break his resolve. He grabs a handful of my ass and groans. I feel it reverberate straight to my core. “I’ve been dying to do this since I saw you in that ridiculous cut-up bathing suit.”
I know what he means. Except I think I’ve wanted him since the second I saw him in his overpriced custom suit.
With his strong hands continuing their path south, Andrew massages the backs of my thighs. Every nerve ending in my body is at full attention. I don’t know what the hell that massage lady was talking about—this is anything but relaxing. It feels like my entire body is on fire.
He squeezes up and down my legs. “God, your legs are so long.” This makes me squirm as the tingly feeling builds between them.
His fingers now trail back up the sides of my body, along my rib cage, and he stops right before he reaches my breasts. My body feels jittery with need for his touch. “Yes,” I plead before he can even ask.
His fingers dance along the sides of my breasts, and I roll over onto my back, so Andrew has better access. I hold my breath as he takes in my naked body. “You are so beautiful,” he says reverently before he starts caressing my breasts. When he squeezes my nipples, my back arches in response.
I don’t know the rules of this massage lesson, but I need to touch him. Now. I pull desperately at his towel, trying to bring him closer to me, but he lets it drop to the ground.
I know my mouth is hanging open and I’m staring, but I don’t even care because holy shit!
He moves to the foot of the massage table, and I slowly lift myself up onto my elbows to get a better look.
He lets me ogle his chiseled body. Lawyers have no business having bodies like this, but I’m not complaining.
“You’ve been hiding this under suits this whole time?”
He smiles. “I like the way you look at me.”
“I like the way you touch me.”
He takes this as a green light to climb up my body at a tortuously slow pace, kissing his way up as he goes.
He starts at my good ankle, careful not to put any body weight on the bad one.
I’ve never realized that the inside of an ankle could be an erogenous zone, but as he licks and sucks his way up my shin, I feel like I can’t breathe.
He smiles up at me when he gets to the inside of my knee. And he doesn’t break eye contact as he leisurely makes his way higher and higher until his head is between my thighs and my breath catches. “And I’ve been dying to do this since you told me to sue you.”
I gasp as his tongue starts slipping back and forth, and I can’t tell if the slickness is from him or me.
Then he reaches up with one of his hands and begins playing with my nipple again, rolling it between his fingers and pinching.
Between the slight pain of the pinch and the heat pooling in my stomach, I can’t stop myself from trying to grind against him.
Andrew holds me down with his other hand on my stomach. He must be able to tell that I’m getting close to the edge. But right when I’m about to come, he stops. I’m about to object when he starts rubbing me with his hand, which has me moaning and bucking again.
“More?” he asks with a grin. I nod frantically because I just need him to keep going and never ever stop.
I’m so wet that his finger slides right in.
He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second.
I groan in ecstasy. His fingers continue expertly working me, rubbing exactly where I need them as his mouth picks back up on its trail up my body.
He kisses my stomach, then my ribs, before taking my other nipple in his mouth.
Between his fingers thrusting faster and his teeth on my nipples, I’m writhing below him.
“I’m going to come,” I pant.
“Not yet,” he says, “I want to taste all of you.”
I groan in frustration and he laughs. “Okay, okay,” he says before leaning closer to whisper into my ear. “But I want you to say my name when you come on my tongue.”
I almost lose it then and there.
His hands take the place of his mouth on my breasts and he makes his way back down my body.
One hand twists and pinches my nipples as his tongue immediately finds my clit.
His other hand pushes even deeper inside of me.
I throw my head back onto the massage table and arch my back. “Oh fuck, Andrew!”
He keeps going, his fingers pumping inside of me as he licks me harder and harder. My whole body tenses. “Oh my God,” I call out as the intense tingling crests over me. And then I explode. “Yes, Andrew! Yes!”
After what feels like a never-ending wave coursing through me, I finally start to come back into my body. “Holy fuck” is all I can manage to say. I can still feel my heart beating in my ears.
Andrew laughs as he kisses his way back up my stomach.
Then he shifts his position so he’s half lying on me, half on the massage table.
I turn to make more room. And when we’re finally facing each other, he kisses me.
Lazily at first, as if he’s giving me a chance to catch my breath.
But when I feel his tongue part my lips, I’m just as turned on as I was a moment ago.
I reach down for him, needing to touch him.
I hear his intake of breath as my fingers trail up and down his length, before finally taking him in my hand.
He’s so hard and long and he feels so good.
I deepen our kiss as I slide my fist up and down him, feeling wetness at his tip.
I pick up the pace as he moans into my mouth, and he somehow gets even harder.
I lean in to kiss him again, but he seems to reluctantly pull back. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we should stop before I want to do more.”
“Wait, what? You get me off and then don’t want me to reciprocate?”
“Trust me, I want you to reciprocate. Really badly. But once we get going, I’m not going to want to stop.”
“Who said anything about stopping?”
“Grace,” he moans as he gently cups my face to stop me. “You’re making this really hard.”
I raise my eyebrow and pump him in response.
He laughs, then with a gravelly voice says, “I’d like to take you on a date first. A real date without cameras.”
Oh. I reluctantly let go of him and lie back down next to him.
“Fine. We can go on a date first,” I groan.
But I’m secretly moved that he wants to wait and do this right.
And that whatever this is between us means more to him than sex.
I lay my head on his chest, still breathing heavily.
“Wow. That was . . . wow,” I say, incoherent in my sated state.
Then I laugh. “I think you broke my brain.”
He gives me a self-assured smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever accomplished that before.”
I smile back up at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to give a blow job before.”
He groans and drops his head back dramatically. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Not if the hot-air balloon ride home kills you first.”
He laughs and pulls me closer. Then he kisses my forehead. “You know, getting fired was totally worth it. I’d be happy to do it all over again tomorrow.”