Page 39 of His to Cherish
“Too hard?”
He gave a slight jerk of his head. Muscles beneath my thumbs and heels of my hands popped and cracked as I applied pressure.
“No.”
He sounded like he was in pain, but I knew how tight muscles could hurt before they relaxed, so I took his word for it.
“Okay, then,” I told him, and continued massaging. “Let me know if it gets to be too much. You’re really tight.”
Soon the only sounds in the room were the light groans and puffs of breath that fell from Aidan’s lips. His voice was so deep, so thick and rich, that I couldn’t help but become aroused by him.
What would he sound like when he made love to a woman? The thought came to mind unbidden before I could stop it. As soon as I realized what I was thinking, I brushed it out of my head, but not before I felt the tops of my thighs begin to heat as I shifted my body against his jeans.
It was all innocent, but it didn’t prevent the sensations from turning me on.
I tried to fight it, tried to ignore it, but with my hands on his flesh, my body against his, it was impossible.
I continued moving, rubbing his shoulders and upper back, loosening tight muscles. Eventually, I heard a low humming sound and realized it was me, humming a song that’d been in my head for days. “Wanted,” by Hunter Hayes. Totally inappropriate given the moment, but I loved the song and I figured he wouldn’t be able to tell what it was, so I kept humming and massaging.
Soft, low sounds came from Aidan. His muscles began to loosen, and his body began to relax. His breathing evened out and his back rose and fell to a slow, sleepy rhythm.
“Aidan?” I asked, momentarily stopping my massage.
He was quiet for several seconds before he murmured, “Don’t stop. So good.”
“Okay,” I whispered, quieting my voice to match his, and continued my massage.
Eventually, though, I stopped, and a light smile flitted across my lips when he didn’t speak again.
He couldn’t…he was snoring.
I crawled off him, careful not to disturb the sleep he obviously needed, and backed off the bed.
Aidan didn’t move a single inch as I put the massage oil away, or when I tiptoed across my room to grab pajama pants and a tank top from my dresser.
I looked at him from the doorway in my room, feeling a full smile on my lips and tears burning in my eyes again.
He was completely passed out. I didn’t have the heart to wake him, so I got dressed in the hallway bathroom and grabbed a blanket from my hall closet to sleep on my couch.
It was comfortable and large and I didn’t mind at all. Some nights I slept in the living room on purpose just so I could fall asleep with a movie on in the background, so I didn’t feel alone in my house.
I tried to ignore the fact that there was a half-dressed man in my bedroom on the other side of my small ranch house.
It was difficult, but eventually my eyes grew heavy with thoughts I shouldn’t have been thinking. And I fell asleep with a delicious shiver rolling down my spine.
—
I dreamed of boats lightly rocking along gentle waves on calm seas under warm summer skies.
I dreamed of sunshine heating my skin and naps in the breeze.
I dreamed of gentle kisses and shivers of anticipation.
I dreamed of warmth and strong arms wrapping around my sides until I snuggled in closer.
I dreamed of a deep, rumbling voice that whispered in my ear, “Don’t like sleeping alone.”
And I dreamed of lips brushing along my temple, callused fingers running through my hair.
