Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
My pulse kicks up a notch as I prepare to touch him. Oof. Just staring at his handsome, muscular body steals my breath. Nash is a living, breathing Adonis. I barely resisted the urge to fan myself when I saw his chiseled jawline and the wicked smirk on his face.
The fluffy white cotton sheet covering him gives me a sneak peek at the muscles hidden beneath it. My fingers itch with the need to smooth out every tight knot etched into his shoulders. I can already feel the tension radiating off him like some absurdly charged electric current.
I warm some massage oil between my palms, inhaling the familiar scent of eucalyptus and lavender. As I glide my hands over his shoulders, I find myself lost in the incredible firmness of his muscles. With each movement, I knead into the tension, pulling and pushing with just the right amount of pressure. I can practically feel the stress melting off him, layer by layer, like ice under the sun.
“You work too hard, you know,” I chide softly, focusing on the stubborn knots beneath my fingers, firmly pressing down where I feel resistance. “No one should be this tense. I can practically feel your stress radiating off you.”
He lets out a low chuckle, a sound that reverberates around the dimly lit room. “Yeah, well, stress comes with the territory,” he replies, and there’s a glimpse of humor fighting through exhaustion. I can hear the underlying sincerity in his voice, drawing me in just a little further.
As I press into those knots, focused on unearthing the pent-up frustration, I try to remember the details Mrs. Hart mentioned. “What territory would that be?” I ask, injecting a playful tone into my voice, hoping to coax him out of his shell.
He laughs again, deeper this time, the sound rich and layered. It flows through the room like warm honey. “I’m an attorney.”
“What kind of cases do you specialize in?” I should let him relax and enjoy what I’m doing, but my curiosity overrides my professionalism.
“I’m a divorce attorney.” Fudge. There goes any chance for a happily ever after with the smoking hot lawyer. I’d bet a month’s salary he has a cynical view of romance.
“That must keep you busy.” As disappointment cuts through me, I fight to keep my voice sunny and upbeat.
“You have no idea.” He groans as I move lower down his muscular back.
I continue to work methodically, trying to keep my own emotions in check while uncovering the layers of him.
“You’re good at this,” he groans as a slight tremor runs through his muscular body. “I bet you’re the most popular massage therapist here.” His body stiffens under my touch, and I work harder to try to release the tension.
I chuckle, my fingers easing into the firm muscles as I focus on working out the chaos pent up in him. “I don’t actually work here much.” He groans as I press down on a particularly hard little knot. “I spend most of my time at a couple of retirement communities in town.” I lean in closer, my hands digging deep to uncover layers of pressure.
He moves slightly, intrigued by my answer. “Retirement communities? Is that how you met my mom?” He tries to glance back at me, but I give him a little nudge to keep him on the table.
“Yeah, she’s a regular,” I share, feeling the warmth of nostalgia. “She’s an absolute sweetheart. Always chatting about how proud she is of you guys.”
His mind seems to drift off a little so I concentrate on making sure this is the best massage he’s ever had.
I step back, a satisfied smile on my face as I take in the sight of Nash, relaxed and nearly dozing on the table. It’s a look that suits him, and I barely resist the urge to run over time just to keep my hands on his yummy body. “We’re all done,” I say, my voice confidently piercing through the soothing music. “Take your time getting dressed. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
I leave the room, giving him some space, and stroll back into the comforting chaos of the spa’s front lounge. As I wait, the soft sounds of flutes and trickling water create a backdrop for my swirling thoughts. My mind is still tangled with the impressions left by Nash. He’s handsome, sure, but there’s something deeper there. Something tempting.
A few minutes later, he swaggers out, freshly dressed and looking like he stepped out of a catalog. He approaches me, his expression casual, but those deep eyes of his pin me in place. “Thanks for the massage, Leni,” he almost purrs, extending a hand with a folded-up bill.
I flash a grin, shaking my head to refuse the tip. “Your mom’s got it all covered. You’re good to go.”
His smile doesn’t waver, but there’s a glint in his eye, a casual confidence that somehow turns my insides to mush. “Well, in that case, how about lunch?”