Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“Is that too hard or too soft?” I asked him softly as I moved to the side. My hands slid to his hard bicep. Tye's muscles weren't as obviously big as Justin’s, but he was undeniably strong.
And extremely good looking.
“It’s fine.”
His words didn’t tell me much, but his tone did. He sounded relaxed. I smiled as I pressed my fingers into the connective tissues between his muscles.
I took a deep breath as I moved to his other side. The oil smelled really nice—better than usual, even. When I could, I took a quick peek at the bottle to make sure it really was the kind I usually used, and it was. Maybe it smelled better in the salty air?
But as I worked on Tye’s back, I leaned over him so that I could rub my thumbs down either side of the length of his spine.
Then I blinked in surprise.
The delicious smell was him. It didn’t seem to be cologne or aftershave, but just his skin. The way his natural scent combined with the oil was incredibly enticing. I found myself really getting into the massage in a way that wasn’t common for me. But Tye was pretty much the perfect male specimen, and it didn’t feel like work at all to run my hands all over his body.
But I was supposed to be a professional.
I rested a hand over the back of his thigh, feeling the hard muscle under the sheet. “I’m going to start on your legs now. I’ll be very careful around your knees, but please let me know if something doesn’t feel right.”
“Okay.” He sounded blissed out.
Carefully, I lifted the sheet, pulling it upwards until it was basically only covering his ass. His legs were powerfully built, likely from squatting so much as a catcher. I couldn’t wait to stroke his thigh and calf muscles. As a massage therapist, I enjoyed working with all my clients, but I had to admit that I was glad that Tye didn’t have skinny little chicken legs like some men.
I lifted his foot, bending it at the knee, and worked the oil into his skin. It was a little easier working on his lower half, and I felt on more familiar ground. This was just a client, just like the ones I worked on each week.
And then he moaned.
I was really digging into the muscles on the back of his thigh, my hands inches away from where the curve of his ass started when he moaned. It was a deep, masculine moan that seemed to enter my body through my ears and then settle between my legs.
Good god.
He still seemed relaxed, but I wasn’t. My nipples were hard. Intrusive—and very unprofessional—thoughts danced through my head. What the hell was wrong with me?
My arousal grew as I moved to his other leg. His body was just so damn perfect.
“Why law school?” I blurted out, desperate to quell the inappropriate thoughts in my head. Usually, I followed the client’s lead as to whether he wanted to talk or not during a massage, but right now, I needed a distraction.
“It seemed like the best place to become a lawyer.” Tye’s voice was still relaxed which blunted his sarcasm.
“But why become a lawyer at all?” I pressed, still trying to focus on something else to regain my equilibrium.
For a while he was silent as I let my fingers glide over the sides of his knee, being careful not to press too hard. And just when I’d concluded that Tye wasn’t going to answer, he did.
“For Dominic, basically.” Tye seemed to think that was a complete answer, and I figured that was all the information I was going to get out of him. But then he went on. “He’s got a big heart. When we were playing in the big leagues, he created this non-profit for kids. It was a summer camp where troubled foster kids could come. There were counselors, games and activities, and baseball practice.”
“That seems like a great opportunity for the kids.”
“Yeah. A lot of them didn’t get to do many extra things outside of school. Dominic really wanted to help them work on their confidence. When I say there were counselors, I don’t just mean camp counselors. There were actual therapists to help them deal with the trauma they’d encountered in their lives.”
“That sounds amazing,” I said truthfully. I admired Dominic for using his position as a pro ball player and his money for something good. “Has the camp started yet for this summer?” It seemed like Dominic would have more time to support it now that he wasn’t play pro ball anymore.
“No. It barely lasted two years.”
Oh. “Well, at least it helped some children.”
“Not enough,” Tye said. “Or at least that’s how Dom feels. He did everything he could. He surrounded himself with the best people to set up the charity, to staff it, to keep it running, but he’d never done anything like that before. None of us had. And the legal eagles who we trusted didn’t always have the kids’ best interest at heart. And in some cases, they didn’t truly know what they were doing.”