Oh.
My.
God.
Square and tight, with palm-sized indentations on each side... For a moment, I could only stare at his backside. Perfect and golden as the rest of him.
Climbing back onto my knees, I took the quietest deep breath in the history of recorded time. It trembled going in, and my hand trembled reaching out. I touched him. He seemed to breathe at that exact moment as well—almost as if he’d been holding his breath, too.
Pressing with my palms and circling with my thumbs, I kneaded the tightness out of his left side. Moving down that perfect curve of muscle, I went to his hamstring and repeated the process moving back up. Thumbs circling, palms pressing, more circling, more kneading, and I moved to the other leg to repeat the process, down then slowly working my way back up to that perfect ass.
He let out a few quiet groans throughout, and after ten minutes that felt like a mixture of ten seconds and ten hours, I’d done all I could do. I was finished.
Sitting back on the bed, I looked at the sculptured physique lying before me.
“You should take an ibuprofen to head off any pain tonight. Massage releases lactic acid, and you might actually feel worse at first. It’ll be a lot better in the morning.”
His head turned, and smoky hazel eyes blinked under thick lashes. He was tired, but he was still so handsome. “That felt really good.” Husky voice. The man was pure sex. “Thanks.”
Dropping my chin, I looked at my hands. “Glad to help.”
Neither of us spoke. He didn’t move. My work was done, and it was time for me to go. I had to go.
My insides twisted, and my stomach cramped at the thought of walking away from him, at the prospect that he might not follow. Still, I knew Stuart Knight, and I couldn’t be easy. He had to decide what he wanted. He had to come after me.
Clearing my throat, I turned and slid off the bed, scooping my shorts from the floor. “I hope you feel better,” I said before heading to the door where my boots lay next to the jack.
He didn’t speak, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t moved. He was letting me go. Heat blurred my vision, my stomach ached, and I started moving faster. I would not cry—at least not here. I’d run all the way to the other side of the house, to my room, before I lost it.
Reaching for the door, I’d just turned the knob and started to pull when it fle
w from my fingertips and slammed shut. The noise made me jump, and a boot dropped from my arms, hitting the floor with a loud thump. Stuart’s arm was over my head. He’d pushed the door closed, and my bottom lip sucked between my teeth when his hand slid slowly down to turn the lock.
Lined stomach, broad chest, strong arms, he was naked before me. I wanted to look lower, but instead I cautiously blinked up to his eyes. They were hot and angry and desperate and hungry, and my heart ricocheted all around inside my chest. He was losing the fight this time.
“Stay.” His voice rumbled low, and my arms went slack.
I dropped my other boot, my shorts, and stood in front of him waiting, ready for whatever was coming.
Chapter 8: The Cabin
Mariska
Time seemed to stand still for several moments as Stuart fought an internal battle I could see in his eyes. He told me to stay, but he was still fighting. Like a deer in headlights, I couldn’t move.
“Take off your top.” He gave the low order, and I obeyed it. My top was off in an instant, and I stood before him in only my bra and panties.
“Braid your hair.”
Blinking, I wasn’t sure where this was going, but I pulled the length over my shoulder and without breaking our intense eye contact, I started weaving my wavy locks into a thick rope over my shoulder.
“Bra.” I reached around and unfastened it. The straps tickled my hypersensitive skin as they fell down my arms. The entire garment fluttered to the floor, and his eyes broke from mine to study my body. I couldn’t breathe.
Reaching out, he cupped the bottom of my breast and slid his thumb across a tightening nipple. The rough touch of his palm against my delicate skin, the circling of his thumb around my straining buds. Hungry eyes darkened as he watched my body respond to him. Heat pulsed deep between my thighs. My breath hitched then became shallow and fast. I had no idea what he’d do next. I didn’t expect him to turn and go to the bed.
He climbed onto it and leaned against the headboard, eyes fixed on mine. I wanted to look down, to gaze at all of him, but I couldn’t.
“Remove your panties.” His voice had changed, but it still commanded. I only hesitated a moment before catching the thin sides around my thumbs and pushing them down. Standing before him completely nude, I couldn’t stop a shiver. My arms crossed over my stomach, and I tried to cover myself.