“Get your mind out of the gutter, Halfpint. This isn’t about sex. It’s about efficiency. We’re running late.”
“Late for what?”
“You’ll see.”
He leads me into his massive bathroom, starts the shower, and pulls me inside. And true to his word, it’s not sexual.
Though by the time we’re done, I wish it had been.
Poppy
“God, that feels so good.” A loud, heady moan escapes me for probably the millionth time in the last half hour. My spirit feels as if it could leave my body with how relaxed I am. I’m not sure I’ve been this stress-free in…Well, okay, maybe last night when I passed out, but it wasn’t the same. That was blissful exhaustion. This is otherworldly.
Jagger groans next to me, but it doesn’t sound nearly as serene. Quite the opposite. And if I weren’t drowning in bliss, I might ask him what’s wrong.
“Yes, right there. More of that. Oh my God, that’s perfect.” I don’t mean to be so vocal, but it feels so good, I can’t stop myself.
“Fuck, kill me now,” Jagger grumbles.
And all too soon it ends, and I’m being helped into a seated position as I adjust the towel over my breasts.
“You were quite tense, ma’am. You should probably come in once a week,” my massage therapist tells me as she gathers her supplies.
“You’re quite tight as well, sir,” Jagger’s masseuse says, but there’s a hint of tease—mischief in his tone. “Sorry, I couldn’t work out those knots. Perhaps next time you should come alone.”
Is he hitting on Jagger? My head tilts as I scrutinize the attractive male, a twinge of jealousy burning my stomach. Ridiculous, right?
“Yeah, no problem,” Jagger grumbles, but he hasn’t sat up yet.
“Is there anything else we can do for you?”
“You can leave,” Jagger hisses, his voice strained, and from the strained muscles of his back, I think his therapist was right. He’s tense.
“That was rude,” I scold when the door shuts behind them.
“No,” he growls, finally pulling himself up. “This is what’s rude.” He points to his dick tenting the sheet.
My brows furrow as I think back to his therapist’s playful tone. Did Jagger get turned on by him? It’s silly, but the reason he had a guy was because the thought of another girl touching him made me livid. Jagger thought my reaction was cute until he saw the man they assigned to me. So we switched.
It never occurred to me that he might be… “I didn’t expect you to be so comfortable with a guy,” I say, keeping my voice calm and casual.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He moves behind the screen, returning with our robes. My lips press together when I really see just how aroused he is.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m stereotyping, but aren’t most men uncomfortable with other men touching them while they’re naked? Straight men, anyway.”
“Only the douchebag homophobes, Halfpint.” He slips on his robe. “Do you know how uncomfortable I was with my dick digging into that table?”
“Yeah, I can imagine it’s not very comfortable. Do you always get…you know, aroused, when you get massages?”
His lips twitch as he crosses the room to the massage table I’m still sitting on, then braces his hands on either side of me. “Are you asking if I’m into men, Halfpint? Or are you asking if I am intothatman?”
I cringe. Hard. Embarrassment floods my cheeks as I nod. “Both, maybe.”
He smirks, dropping his mouth to my ear. “Would it turn you on if I said I was into guys?”
Well, I didn’t think so, but suddenly vivid images of Timothy riding his cock while I ride his face pop into my mind. When he chuckles, seeing the lust written across my face, my cheeks grow hotter. “I don’t know what’s sexier. You jealous or you getting turned on at the thought of me railing some guy?”
“How do you know I was picturing you railing him?”
