Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
And, shit, it feels really good. He instantly finds a pressure spot and starts kneading a knot. It hurts for a second, but soon the pain gives way to a release I didn’t even know I could feel. I let out a little sigh and turn my head away, staring at the window, my cheeks turning bright pink.
“There you go,” he murmurs. “God, you’re so tight.”
“Since when did you learn how to do this?”
“I got a lot of massages when I lived in Vegas. They helped with the stress.”
“You just picked this stuff up?”
“Pretty much.”
I get the sense that he’s leaving something out, and I decide not to pursue it. I don’t want to know what he’s been up to out west all these years. I don’t want to know anything about him, or at least the bare minimum. Except his hands feel good as he rubs my shoulders, and now I’m totally turned away and leaned forward as his thumbs dig into muscles I didn’t even know existed.
“Shit,” I mutter and remember to relax my jaw again. “I really don’t want to admit it, but you’re good at this.”
His hands roam my body as he rubs me, pausing only to push against tight areas, all up and down my spine and along my shoulders. The man’s hands are so freaking strong, and every time he brushes against a new area, shivers explode into my core. I’m excited, and confused, and exhausted, and nervous, but Gian’s hands are the only things I can focus on.
“There are benefits to being my wife.” He shifts and suddenly he’s down on his knees. I stare at him, my eyes going wide. He’s rubbing my thighs, my knees spread wide, and I feel like I might go crazy.
“This is definitely not a normal massage position,” I say, trying to squeeze my legs closed, but he doesn’t let me.
“No, it’s not, but this also isn’t a normal massage. When’s the last time you got off?”
I let out a panicked laugh. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a mess of tension, tesorina. When’s the last time you had a good orgasm?”
“I don’t—that’s none of your business, you asshole.” My cheeks are burning bright red, and based on the way he’s looking at me, I’m pretty sure I know why he’s down on the floor right now.
Truth is, I haven’t gotten off in a while. I’ve been keeping myself satisfied all these years—I haven’t had a serious boyfriend since college—but even that’s been tapering off. It’s not that I don’t have a sex drive, but more like I’ve been too busy and stressed to bother. What’s the point of rubbing myself with a vibrator? I’ll feel good for a few minutes then all those anxious thoughts will come flooding back in.
“You’re my business now, wife.” He leans forward, his hands moving to the waistband of my sweats.
“What are you doing?” I stop him, heart racing into my throat. “Absolutely not.”
“You need to relax.” He doesn’t move, his eyes staring into mine. “I understand how you’re feeling right now, but let me take care of you. This doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“This doesn’t—” I laugh, completely freaked out, but also wildly turned on. My core’s going crazy with tingles and my nipples are rock hard. I think of that kiss at the chapel, and I can still feel his hands on my thighs and my back. “You’re insane. Seriously. What if the stewardess comes back?”
“She won’t. I told her not to.”
“You told her—” I groan, closing my eyes. “You always planned on doing this.”
“I told her to stay away because we were going to discuss our plans. This only just now occurred to me.”
“No, Gian. We can’t.”
“We’re married. We can do whatever we want.” He leans forward and I think he’s going to whisper something, but instead his lips brush a line up my jaw to the corner of my mouth. I close my eyes, breath dragging in my chest. What’s the matter with me right now? I hate this guy and I don’t want to complicate our relationship with something physical.
But I’ve always had this aching want for him. Even after all this time, it’s still there. The way he looks at me makes my stomach do flips, and all I want to do is bury my fingers in his dark hair. Everything about the man screams sex, and that means I should run away screaming.
Instead, I don’t move as his lips touch mine.
A soft kiss. Gentle, probing. I don’t open my mouth, but I don’t push him away, either.
Soft jaw. Loose shoulders.
I take a deep breath and look into his dark eyes.
This doesn’t have to be complicated. I’m his wife now, right? And even if I don’t like him, I can at least use him the way I’m sure he’s using me too. It’s not like I’m manipulating him into doing something he doesn’t want to do—