Falling for the Marine (McCade Brothers 2)

“I choose eucalyptus, in that case.” She recapped one bottle and put it down on the nightstand, then shook the other bottle. “The essential oil acts as an anti-inflammatory, plus it’s recognized as a treatment for muscle aches and pains. Relax,” she said softly and positioned his neck the way she wanted it. He heard a click when she flicked the bottle open and dribbled oil into her palm.

His nerve endings tingled. And then her hands were on him. The warmth of her touch flowed from the base of his neck, along either side of his spine, and stopped just below the waistband of his pants.

He held his breath.

Gentle thumbs found tense muscles in the center of his back, dug in, and meticulously worked their way out, toward his hips, keeping the pressure steady as she went. By the third pass, the pain was down to a low ache and he was starting to imagine her rubbing other areas besides his back.

He released a breath. “That feels good.”

“I know.”

“You can’t possibly know,” he mumbled, enjoying her hands, the scent of the massage oil, even the texture of the carpet against his cheek.

“Sure I can. Licensed massage therapists undergo hundreds of hours of training, and I’ve been a guinea pig more times than I can count. I know what it’s like to be the one trusting my vulnerable, half-naked body to the skill of the therapist.”

Her soft, husky voice wove yet another fiber into the cocoon wrapped around him. He drifted a little deeper into the state of grace she seemed to be able to put him in at will.

Warm, lubricated hands swept over his shoulder blades, down his back, and pushed his pants a little farther down his hips. “No tattoos for you, Major?”

“Uh-uh. I’m not a big fan of needles.”

She chuckled. “Beauty knows no pain.”

“My ass knows no pain, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

This time, when her fingers wandered to the base of his spine and gently probed the gap between his vertebrae, he didn’t tense up. She offset the downward push at his lower back with opposite motion at the base of his skull. The entire length of his spine underwent a slow, subtle stretch, and, just like last time, the ache dissolved. He couldn’t hold back a groan of relief.

“Better?” She shifted around until she faced his feet.

“God, yes,” he confirmed, in barely more than a two-syllable grunt.

“Any residual pain darting along here?” Her hands smoothed over the small of his back and then down into his pants, moving lower as she massaging his hip.

The new direction of the massage managed to relax and energize him at the same time. Within seconds, those nimble fingers of hers had his dick drilling a hole in the floorboards. “Chloe?”

“Yes?” Her hands stopped their slow, circular sweeps along his hip.

“I’m going to turn over now.”

“I’m still feeling some impaction here at the abductor—

“I’m going to turn over,” he repeated and made good on the announcement. “You,” he hooked his hand into the gap between her back and the waistband of her shorts, “are going to shimmy out of these.” He gave the shorts a tug. “Understand?” Maybe they didn’t have any condoms, but he was ready to get creative.

She sat stock-still for a moment, not facing him, and he wondered if he’d offended her by issuing the lewd instruction while she was working on him. Then she stood, and, God help him, unbuttoned the little shorts. She let them fall to her ankles, treating him to the sight of the hummingbird framed by the frilly elastic of a lemon-yellow thong.

“What next?” she asked, as she stepped out of the shorts.

“The shirt.”

He watched, dry-mouthed, as she lifted the tank top over her head and tossed it aside. Only the yellow thong and matching bra interrupted the smooth, lightly tanned expanses of skin before him.

“Anything else you’d like me to take off?”

The word “everything” sprang to mind, but what actually came out of his mouth was, “Put the shoes back on.”

She turned her head and offered him a perfect profile, and he saw her lips curve slightly. “Yes, sir.” Then she bent down and slipped the shiny, leather heels on. He couldn’t have spoken a word if his life depended on it.

“And now?”