Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
My whole life now is a lot compared to before … in the very best way possible.
I fall asleep smiling.
AVA
The next night, Erik comes over. I’m curious what he has in mind for our date; my mind keeps going back to Brax, and I wonder if Erik wants to take things further in that direction. He’s been so careful, so protective, so if he doesn’t want to, I may have to encourage him.
We hug, and kiss, but I can tell he’s holding back. It’s a gentle kiss. It’s still wonderful, but I can’t help pressing myself against him, silently asking for more.
He doesn’t comply, though. He eases back, his hands on my shoulders, and then he rubs them and says, “It feels like you’re carrying a lot of tension here.”
“Am I?”
“I’ve had the impression that all of the new experiences you’ve been having may be causing some stress.”
Though it’s mostly been a good kind of stress, he’s not wrong. Erik understands more than anyone that I’ve been stepping pretty far out of my comfort zone lately, and even though my dates have been wonderful, they come with some internal conflict.
“I thought it would be nice for you to have a night where you can relax completely.” I notice then that he’s brought a bag with him, and now he moves around the room, dimming the lights, starting soft music playing, pouring liquid into a device that he plugs into the wall.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Essential oils, for relaxation.”
I fold my arms and watch him work, smiling. “You’re always finding new ways to take care of me.”
He looks up, and the expression on his face makes my heart feel funny. “I like taking care of you,” he says softly.
“I know.” I want to take care of him, too, but I don’t know how, or if he’d even let me. I need to think about that.
As a final touch, he rolls out a mat on the floor and gestures for me to lie on my stomach, my head on a little pillow he’s brought. Then he straddles me, and the awareness of his body so close, the vee of his legs poised just a few inches from my bottom, makes my skin tingle.
He leans down and starts to rub my shoulders, and his magic fingers loosen up all the knots I didn’t even realize were there. He works his way up my neck, right to the base of my skull, where his thumbs press in.
I let out a quiet moan, and his hands still for only a fraction of a second before he says, “Good?”
“So good.”
He massages back down my neck and across my shoulders, then down my back, all the way to the muscles on either side of the base of my spine. “Tension here too,” he says, his thumbs at work again, coaxing my stress away.
I’m so relaxed I could fall asleep, except for Erik’s nearness, and the warmth that’s growing between my legs, even though he’s not touching me anywhere private, or even trying to get me excited.
“Turn over,” he says eventually, and his voice comes out kind of gravelly. When I move onto my back, he sits at my feet and picks one of them up.
“Oh, Erik. Wow.” I’ve never had a foot massage before, and it’s an incredible sensation. I had no idea that someone touching my feet could feel so sensual. Not like other parts of my body, but it’s definitely not merely relaxing, what he’s doing. “This feels so decadent.”
“You should pamper yourself, Ava. You deserve it.”
I almost make a joke about not needing to, since I have him, but I can’t. Not when The Choice—which shows up exactly like that in my thoughts now—has to be made before too long. Not that we set a time limit on this experiment of me dating three men, but I can’t expect them all to wait forever for me to make up my mind.
Shoving those thoughts aside, because they are intruding most unkindly on this lovely experience, I watch Erik through slitted eyes as he works on my other foot. Then his hands slide above my ankles, and I wish I were wearing shorts instead of leggings, so I could feel his hands on my bare skin.
His touch changes subtly; I can’t explain how, but he’s not trying to relax me anymore, not exactly. He keeps going, onto my calves, then up to my knees, then further, as my breath grows shallow.
He must surely feel the heat that’s radiating from between my legs. My panties are damp, and I wonder if he can somehow tell. To me, my arousal feels as obvious as a flashing neon sign.
When his hands glide up to my thighs for the fourth or fifth time, I decide to be bold. “You can touch me anywhere.” I sneak a peek at him before I squeeze my eyes shut again.