“Your masculinity or your sexuality? You wanted a job that was associated with being a man even if you just happened to be attracted to other men?”
I crossed my hands and rested them on my abs as my breath whooshed in and out. “Maybe that was part of it as I got older but as far back as I can remember I wanted to wear a uniform and to carry a badge. I wanted to make a difference.” I closed my eyes and drifted back in time. “I wanted to make sure no one else had to stand by their father’s grave holding their mother’s hand while she sobbed and sobbed.”
“She very easily could be standing next to your grave next, Dominic.” The words were so quiet it was almost like he breathed them instead of spoke them and there wasn’t anything I could say to argue that he was wrong because he wasn’t.
“I know, but I’m a cop. It’s part of who I am and my mom has always accepted me for every single part of me. It sounds like we’re both lucky that way.”
He put his hands on his hips and seemed to be turning my words over in his head. After a couple of minutes where I just laid there and sweated he finally spoke. “Why don’t you take five and then meet me back upstairs in the spa area. We’ll get the massage out of the way and see if we can work that shoulder out so that on Wednesday we can get back on track.”
I struggled back into a seated position and lifted an eyebrow at him. “You never answered me. Are you the one handling the massage?”
His eyes flared hot at the center and the corners of his mouth twitched like he wanted to grin but was fighting the urge. “I shouldn’t, we have techs, but I’m going to.” The look on his face turned entirely predatory. “I have a feeling my self-control is going to be hurting as badly as your shoulder is by the time we’re done.”
I groaned as I watched him walk away. Basketball shorts did wonders for him both coming and going. “No pain no gain, Mr. Fancy-Pants.”
I was setting myself up for failure.
I knew it as soon as I walked into the tiny, sequestered room that we used for massage therapy. I had a tech on staff who I could very easily call to handle this for me. That would be the smart thing to do, the professional thing, but I wasn’t going to make the call.
Nope, I was going to walk in that room with a naked Dominic Voss laid out on the table in front of me and torture myself by putting my hands all over the miles and miles of thick and ropey muscles that covered his big body, knowing that it couldn’t lead to anything. Well, knowing that it shouldn’t lead to anything, but my self-control felt paper thin and stretched as tautly as it had ever been. I couldn’t recall a point in my life where attraction had clawed at me, gnawed on my insides like a hungry monster demanding to be fed. It was hard to concentrate on anything else with this ravenous need pulsing inside of me. I was tempting more than fate by going into that room and putting my hands on Dom, but I had reached the point that I no longer cared.
He was lying facedown on the table and he didn’t look up when I entered the sage-scented room. The new age music that was typically piped in for relaxation was turned off, so the only sounds that filled the tiny space were the alternate sounds of both of our heavy breathing. His sounded like he was getting ready to fall asleep. Mine sounded like I had just run a marathon. His hair was damp from his shower and I took a moment to silently chastise myself for being so caught up in my own thoughts that I hadn’t bothered to spruce myself up after the sweaty yoga session. All I did was throw on a white T-shirt and muck around in the mire of my wayward thoughts. I probably smelled like the floor of the gym, but there wasn’t any time to fix it or worry about it now.
I made sure the door clicked shut behind me so that he knew I was in the room, but he still didn’t move. I wondered if he actually had fallen asleep. I cleared my throat a little bit and told him, “I’m going to focus mostly on your shoulder to see if we can get that muscle to loosen back up. It probably won’t feel all that great at the beginning and you need to make sure you hydrate when we’re done.”
My voice was huskier than it typically was and I had to shake my head at myself. I needed to get it together so I could do my job and get him out of here without making a fool of myself. I picked up the bottle of oil infused with different essential oils and approached the table. I almost jumped when he finally turned his head, which was directly in line with my crotch and looked up at me with knowing shining out of his olive-green eyes. “Do your worst.”
I sucked in a sharp breath at the blatant challenge and told my dick to behave considering its close proximity to his smirking mouth. I rubbed my hands together to warm the oil up and when I put them on his skin we both jolted at the initial contact. I’d had my hands on bodies worth millions, on ones that were sculpted and honed to perfection, ones that belonged to men who made it no secret that I could get away with much more than a massage in this private little space. None of them made me react the way Dominic did.
As soon as I touched him I knew I was never going to want to stop. I wanted to memorize every muscle, trace every dip, explore every hollow and lick my way across every inch of his golden skin. It was consuming and I felt like I was drowning under endless layers of want and need. My dick was no longer listening and had taken on a life of its own. Rock hard and throbbing, the straining erection that was now pushing against the too-thin fabric of my shorts was very aware of how close it was to Dom’s mouth as he breathed in and out in a steady rhythm.
I dug my fingers into the coiled muscle of his shoulder and winced along with him when I found the tangled knot of tendons and ligaments that he had overworked during the weekend. He hissed out a sound of pain and I had to bite back a groan as the heat of it wafted over the tip of my cock. This was such a terrible and fantastic idea.