Okay, now she was getting offended again. Fuck.
“Take off your shirt. I’ll get my oil.”
“You’re oil?”
“Yes, massage oil.”
“Oh.” He watched as she crossed the room to the dresser and dug through her cross-bag, coming back with a small bottle. He hadn’t moved, so she lifted her brows.
“Well?”
He found his hands going to his shirt and yanking it over his head, and then he moved to lie down on his stomach.
“Other way.”
He looked at her.
“With your head at the foot. Makes it easier to reach your neck and shoulders.”
He complied, and she moved to stand over him at the foot. Then she uncapped the bottle and poured a small amount of oil in her hand. He watched as she rubbed them together to warm the oil before she touched him. A moment later, he felt her small hands settle on his shoulders. She smoothed the oil over his skin with long gliding strokes. And, God, it felt wonderful.
“Take slow, even breaths and try to relax,” she ordered, and he found himself complying willingly as she began working the tension out of his muscles. “It helps if you visualize something calming and soothing.”
“Got any suggestions?” he asked, not sure how relaxed he was going to be able to stay with her hands on him.
“I use the ocean. I imagine myself lying on the beach just in the surf line, feeling the waves wash over me, gently lifting me, the warmth of the sand and the sun, the sensation of floating in the water.”
“Sounds nice,” he murmured as her hands glided over his skin.
She leaned over and started at the bottom of his back, moving upward, applying pressure, then bringing her hands down the outside of his back with a light touch. She maintained contact without applying pressure as she brought her hands back down. She repeated this technique for about five minutes while gradually increasing from light to medium pressure and warming up his back muscles as well as his neck and shoulders.
Then she began shorter, circular strokes with more pressure, kneading, rolling and pressing. She alternated between using her palm, fingertips and even her knuckles. She did this for several long minutes.
Next she began working her way outward down his arms and back again. Then she worked down along his spine, kneading the muscles on either side of it, and he fought the urge to groan aloud in pleasure.
Every time she leaned over him to work the tightness out of his lower back, her scent would envelope him. It was heaven and hell all rolled into one.
He felt the tension easing out of his muscles as she worked her magic. At the same time, he felt himself getting hard in a different location.
“How is that? Am I pressing too hard or not firm enough?”
“Harder would be good.”
“All right. It would help if I straddled you, it that okay? I can get better leverage that way.”
Seriously? Hell, yeah.
“Climb on,” he found himself answering. A moment later, the bed shifted under him as she kneeled on it, and then she threw a leg over and settled on his ass. Using her body weight, she was able to lean over and do a better job of applying deep pressure. It felt phenomenal.
And this time he did groan aloud.
“Am I hurting you?” she immediately asked.
“No. Don’t stop. It feels fucking fantastic.”
He could hear the grin in her voice as she replied, “So that was a good groan, then?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”