you know it.”
I stop trying to keep up a conversation, because the things she does to me are enough to make me cry like a girl. My eyes are watering by the time she works the last stitch of pain from my right side.
Before moving onto the other side of my body, she gives me a break by working on my neck. It feels so good, it’s a miracle I’m not drooling on the floor.
“Jesus,” I moan. “Not to dis Trish or anything, but I’ve never felt anything like your hands on me.”
“Bet you say that to all the girls.”
“I don’t. Ask around.”
“I don’t have to ask around. Everyone is plenty happy to talk about you all on their own. Somehow, our friendship seems to be an open invitation for every woman interested in you to start up a conversation with me. Like I’ve got insider information or something.”
She adds pressure to a knot at the base of my neck, and I see stars.
“God,” I groan. “Who knew such small hands could create so much pain?”
“What’s that saying men like to use? It’s not the size, it’s how you use it that counts?”
I break out laughing, and I can’t stop. I laugh so hard, I cry. I have to sit up to catch my breath. When the laughter ebbs, I find myself on the edge of the table, the sheet barely covering my very happy junk. Chloe’s sagging against the wall from her own hilarious laughter.
And when we both sober up, there’s no missing the heat expanding inside this room. Chloe’s gaze slips from my face, to my chest, my torso, my barely covered crotch, my bare thighs. I swear the room is swimming with explosive combustion. All we need is a spark, and we’d explode into sexual bliss.
I’m ready to add that spark the second she gives me a sign she’s interested. My muscles coil to act, and I can’t deny the way my mind slides a little sideways at the possibility of getting Chloe Hart into my arms.
Then her gaze drops to the floor, and she straightens and points at the table. “Assume the position, Office Wilde.”
Damn. Damn, damn, damn. So close.
I feel like we’ve been inching closer for a freaking year. But she won’t ever cross that line. I’m as alpha as the next guy, and I’m happy to take an aggressive role once I’m in bed with a woman, but I’m not the type to push her there.
Besides, when I get Chloe Hart into my bed, I want her to want to be there.
2
Chloe
For a woman on a self-imposed celibacy stint, volunteering to give Xavier Wilde his regular massage was not the best idea I’ve ever had.
When I started calling to cancel Trish’s appointments, I saw Xavier’s name on the list, and I know how badly he needs his massages. It seemed effortless to step in for Trish to benefit Xavier. We’re friends, after all. Great friends. Close friends. We’d probably be best friends if those slots weren’t already taken by Laiyla and KT. And, then, of course, there’s this steam between us. That sort of kicks us into a whole different category, one where we’re in a constant state of push and pull. And then there are the barriers I’ve constructed to keep him on the other side of the friendship line. Best friends don’t have barriers.
But after seeing his body up close and naked, every cell in my celibate body is banging against its cage bars, rattling me. I can’t remember the last time I felt this burning, overwhelming lust for a man. I don’t know if it’s his obvious good looks, his sense of humor, his self-confidence, our friendship, the rumors about his talents in bed, or all of the above, but whatever the reason, my attraction to him just keeps getting stronger—a sure sign that my internal ability to choose a trustworthy man is still on the fritz.
Out of everyone in town I could be involved with, the last thing I want in my life is another player. I need a man I can trust, and, don’t get me wrong, Xavier is an amazing guy in many ways, but he’s also driven by his libido.
I’ve managed transformational change since I walked away from Bodhi, but I’m nowhere near ready to end the safety net of my self-induced celibacy.
When he’s back on the table, the sheet barely covering his ass, I try to shake the sexual energy and act…normal. Like he doesn’t affect