The divot deepens. “Since when?”
“This morning. I saw an ophthalmologist this afternoon, and I have uveitis. Inflammation of the eye. I’m taking drops for it. It’ll be better in a few days.” I smile at him as if this is the only thing I’ve had to worry about today. As if my body hasn’t declared World War III on me. “I should probably have told you that before you rushed up here. You might not want to kiss me.”
He leans in and ghosts his lips along my jaw. “Can I kiss you here?” His voice is a rough rumble coasting the shell of my ear, sparking shivers that skip across my skin.
“Uh-huh,” I manage to get out on a shaky breath.
“What about here?” His lips trace my neck in a teasing caress, and an answering wetness pools between my legs.
“Oh. Yes. Definitely there.” The words carry out on a delirious moan.
He slowly drags the opening of my silk top to the side, revealing my shoulder, and skims his lips over the exposed skin. “How are your shoulders doing?”
“Better.” It’s not a lie. They aren’t as achy today compared to my hips and back.
“Anywhere else that hurts?” He glides his hands down my arms.
Everywhere.
“My neck is a little stiff. And my”—I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry—“my hips.”
“You want me to massage you? Would that help?” His voice comes out in a low, seductive purr, and my entire body deliciously tingles.
“It might,” I whisper, unable to make my words any louder.
He threads his fingers with mine and leads me into the bedroom. Releasing my hand, he walks to the curtains and slides them shut. The faint glow peeking through the fabric is the only light in the nearly dark room. “Does that help with the light sensitivity?”
I cautiously slide my sunglasses down my nose, testing my inflamed eye’s reaction to the dim light. The pain I’ve been experiencing all day, whenever the eye is exposed to light, doesn’t assault me. “That’s good.”
“Alright. Do you want to change into something else? To make it easier for me to massage you.”
“I can put on my sleep shorts and tank top.”
“That should work.” He turns so his back faces me, and I take a brief second to appreciate the view before his words sink in.
“You want me to change here?”With you standing there?The words come out husky—not at all how I had planned. I can blame the view of his tight ass and broad shoulders for that. I swallow.
“I promise I won’t look. Or I can leave if you want?”
“No, that’s fine.” It’s not like we haven’t changed in the same room. He’s never sneaked a peek at me.
Even if I secretly willed him to.
I remove a pair of sleep shorts and matching tank top from the dresser drawer and deposit my sunglasses on my nightstand. I change into my sleepwear, my movements awkward and stiff from the long drive to and from Portland. “Okay. You can turn around.”
In the dim light of the room, I feel his gaze travel down my body like the caress of silk on my skin. It’s dark enough he can’t see my nipples through the top from where he’s standing. Can’t see I’m braless.
He pats my mattress. “On your stomach. Where’s your lotion?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Right.” He disappears out the door and returns with the jasmine-scented lotion.
I swallow again at my body’s reaction to him, at the nakedly raw gut feeling I have that he’s seeing into places I’ve kept hidden from the world.I climb onto the bed, crawl to his side, and lie on my stomach, my head on the pillow, arms folded under it.
I close my eyes. Deep secrets exposed or not, I’m not missing out on this massage when it might ease some of the pain.
The mattress dips under Garrett’s weight. He straddles my hips and brushes my coils to the side. His large warm hands spread across my shoulders, and with gentle but firm pressure, he starts to unknot the kinks in my neck, kneading them with his calloused thumbs. Unwittingly forcing me to bite back a moan.
