Jock Blocked: A Billionaires on the Beach

Redness heated my cheeks as I pulled off my robe. I couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes as I slipped into the tub. Then I felt the water displace as Brock scooted a half foot away from me, giving me some space.

When I was brave enough, I looked up to see Jessie and Kincade staring at me, Jessie’s mouth open. A quick peek to the side showed me that Brock was equally mesmerized. He was the first one to speak. “You look incredible.” The other two nodded in agreement.

Despite their reaction, and despite the fact that I’d chosen to do this one hundred percent on my own, I couldn’t steady my nerves—which sometimes made me babble. “I was right. The top doesn’t support me at all.” I’d studiously avoided looking at my body in the mirror earlier—that was one reason I’d spent so long on my hair. But the triangles that covered my nipples didn’t cover a whole lot else. My breasts felt almost as free as if I were topless. The bikini covered a swath in front, but plenty more spilled out on either side.

Kincade cleared his throat. “I get that that’s a problem for you, and we’re not unsympathetic… but trust me when I say that’s not a problem for us.”

“Yeah,” Jessie agreed, sounding awed. “It’s not a bug, it’s a feature.”

That made my mouth twitch upward. It seemed to be tech speak for saying something was a good thing. “I wanted to wear it for you guys.”

“We’re glad you did.” Brock reached out and took my hand.

That steadied me, for some reason. His hand was so big and solid. My nerves gradually calmed. The guys opposite seemed to be trying not to stare too hard. Plus the bubbles and ripples from the hot tub provided at least a little cover. But I’d wanted to do this tonight. It had just taken a lot of courage.

It was still taking a lot of courage.

“How are you feeling?” Jessie asked. “Even my muscles are a little sore, and I’m used to surfing. Though I haven’t done it in a while.”

“Me either,” Kincade said.

We looked at Brock. “I live in southern California,” he said.

“So you surf often?” I asked him.

He stared at us for a moment and then broke into a crooked grin. “Hell no. Feels like most of my waking time is spent at my office or boardroom.”

“Same here,” Kincade said, ruefully. “Being a grown-up sucks sometimes.” Then he eyed me. “On the other hand, it has some perks.”

I couldn’t help smiling a little.

Kincade winked at me. “How’s the wine?”

“Excellent.” I reached for my glass and took another sip.

“Good. It’s all part of our apology tour,” Kincade said.

“It is?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s a thing?”

“Yep,” Jessie answered.

“What else is on the tour?”

Kincade was the one who responded. “A way to ease some of your sore muscles. Did you know that I give world-class foot rubs?”

“I didn’t know that.” I was practically drooling at the thought.

“Want me to show you?”

“Yes, please.”

Kincade slid along the bench, closer, and then patted his lap. Obligingly, I lifted my foot up and placed it in his waiting hands. His thumbs sank into the arch and I was immediately in heaven.

It was easy to melt under his capable hands. Feet weren’t something I had to be self-conscious about. They seemed so simple and uncomplicated compared to other body parts.

“Got another one of those?” Jessie asked, and a moment later, he had hold of my other foot.

It was bliss. Pure and simple. My eyes practically rolled back in my head as the two men worked their strong fingers on my feet. Somehow, they knew exactly where to apply pressure and where to just rub gently. Were billionaires required to take foot massage lessons or something? If so, I hope they’d paid their teacher well.

I moaned with pleasure. Nothing in my entire life had felt this damn good, and I was pretty sure nothing else ever would.

But I was wrong.

Brock stood up and waves splashed against my nearly bare chest. He stepped up onto the little ledge behind me. Water dripped from his powerful body as he stooped down and then settled behind me, one strong leg on either side of me.

A moment later, he fisted a handful of curls, tugging gently until I looked up at him. It was strange to see him from this angle. “Do you like scalp massages?”

Good God, these men were going to be the death of me—but at least I’d die happy. “Yes,” I said with a little whimper of anticipation, and his fingers plunged into my hair.

As it turned out, the rubbing he’d done earlier with the shampoo was just a small preview of his skills. His hands were like a surgeon’s, and he used them with precision. Within seconds, I was moaning out loud. Probably people on the other side of the island could hear me.