Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
His hardened length presses against me as he laces his fingers at the nape of my neck.
“You’re so beautiful, Dani,” he whispers. “So fucking beautiful.”
I try to silence my inner critic, the one that tells me he’s a widower and I’m a widow, that we’re on the rebound or whatever you call it, that we should be cautious and sensible and responsible.
I want to dismiss his compliment. I want to tell him I’m too heavy, my skincare routine sucks, and my tousled hair deserves more than a finger comb. I open my mouth and catch a glimpse of the intensity of his expression. My own shoulders relax at the sight.
“Thank you.”
With a surge of daring I never knew I possessed, I straddle him, my fingers tracing a path down his chest. His breathing turns ragged, matching the wild rhythm of my own heart. The boundaries that once separated therapist from client have vanished, leaving behind only the fierce hunger we've both been suppressing.
I. Want. Him.
“Baby,” he whispers. “Come here.”
I bend my mouth toward him. The smell of the massage oil and his masculine scent wash over me. My eyes flutter closed.
My phone blares.
“No. NO no no no NO,” I groan.
I half expect him to tell me to ignore it, like any man hard as a rock on the verge of sex might say. But Ricco’s a parent, too, with a surprising depth of understanding.
“You need to take that, don’t you?”
“I’ll be quick,” I say with a groan. “I promise.”
“It’s all good, babe.” He winks at me. “You’ll have plenty of time for your next client, I promise.”
I reach for my phone and quickly answer it, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as breathy as it sounds to my own ears. “Hello?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you. Is this Emmy’s mom?”
My heartbeat spikes. “It is.”
“It’s the school nurse. Emmy says her tummy hurts.”
Relief she’s okay floods through me. I swallow and close my eyes, nodding at the phone. “I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“YOU DESERVE BETTER”
Ricco
I can tell by the look on her face that something’s changed and she needs to go.
“Everything alright?”
“It’s Emmy,” she says, shaking her head. “I have to get her at school. Dammit.”
I sit up. “Is she okay?”
I’ve watched her little girl, with the same wide blue eyes and freckled cheeks as Dani’s. She’s full of energy and questions but sweet and tender. Like her mama.
I’ve watched her as I berated myself for taking this kid’s father from her. A fucking bottle of juice doesn’t even come close to making up for it. I could give her my kingdom and every penny in the bank and still fall miles short.
“She says her belly hurts.” Dani bites her lip.
“Poor kid. I’ll go with you to get her.”
“I don’t—that won’t be—”
“You want me to sit here in your studio with a raging hard-on while you fight Boston traffic on your own? That doesn’t seem fair at all.”
“For whom?” she says with a laugh.
I wink at her as I take the towel she hands me and clean myself up. “I’m starving, too. Let’s get something to eat, okay?”
“I’ll refund you for today’s—”
“Woman, stop it.” I don’t bother to hide the irritation in my voice. “Stop the self-deprecation and bullshit, or tonight’s demonstration will have the additional benefit of a punishment scene.”
Dani blinks, staring at me.
“I’m just trying to be professional.”
“Fuck professional.” I adjust myself with a groan and zip up my pants. “Let’s go.”
Things between me and Dani were starting to sizzle, the heat building up like a damn wildfire. I’d already decided I’d push that second massage table over and take her right here, right now.
Cockblocked by a fucking school nurse.
“Did you drive in?”
“Yep.”
“You drive… a Range Rover. In Boston?”
I open the SUV’s door for her. “I do. What did you expect?”
“Something different. Tesla, maybe? Porsche… something small and sleek.”
“Best safety ratings,” I mumble, jerking my thumb to the car seat in the back.
“Ahh. And where’s your son today?”
“School. My sister’s picking him up.”
“Your sister,” she says with a grimace. “I’m… sorry about that misunderstanding.”
After a moment, she lightens the mood by asking, “So why the fancy getup today?"
I chuckle, grateful for the change in topic. "Business meeting in town."
Her curiosity is genuine, and I find myself smirking. Despite my rough edges, there's something about her that makes me want to open up. But I can't let myself get carried away. This thing between us shouldn’t be happening and we both know it.
Yet, as much as I tell myself that, the fire between us just burns hotter. It's like I'm being drawn into a storm I can't escape, even if I know damn well I should.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be driving her. I shouldn’t be imagining how I’ll get Dani alone tonight and remind her that she isn’t just a single mom whose needs come second to everyone and everything around her…but that she’s a woman who deserves to be worshipped.