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I was quiet, not wanting to answer that question and get the response that I knew was coming. Real sighed, knowing what my silence meant.
“I told you about that shit, Ev. That’s why I took care—never mind. How you gon’ be a nurse, always on your feet, and won't take the time to eat? Ass gon’ be lightheaded over there. Only time you need to be passing out is when I put my mouth on that pretty pussy,” he growled at me.
Heat wound through me at his words, my mind flashing back to how that exact thing had happened the last time we were together. I cleared my throat, determined not to let him hear the effect he had on me.
“Montréal, I'm fine. How's your week been?” I asked.
The sexy sound of his soft chuckle greeted my ears. “You stay tryna change the subject, love.”
“I’m serious, though. Tell me. I hope things got better since Sunday.”
“You know how I feel about procrastinating. I handled Sunday’s problem on Monday.”
Handled?I wondered what he meant, but something about his tone told me not to ask.
“And since then?”
“I've just been working with my brothers, trying to stay on top of some of our joint projects. I didn't call you to talk about me, though. How are you—besides probably starving,” he pressed.
I couldn’t help smiling. “I see you have a flair for the dramatic this week. I'm too tired to be starving. Busy workdays. That's why I'm in this relaxation room fighting off a nap.”
As if to emphasize my point, a yawn erupted from me. Thank God I was getting off at 3:30 today, early enough to beat traffic, get home, shower, and climb in my bed with a good book until I drifted off.
“Relaxation, huh?” Real repeated, his voice lowering. “I can help you relax without falling asleep.”
I smirked. “Can you, Mr. Hamilton?” I teased, stretching.
“Shiii… you alone in that room?”
His deep voice, its tone promising pleasure, wrapped around me. Whatever he had in mind was clearly not work appropriate. That didn’t stop me from murmuring, “Mm-hmm.”
“Damn, you sound just like you do when I have that ass screaming for hours. I love that,” he rumbled.
“Mmm… Real?”
“Yeah, love?”
“Relax me.”
He laughed softly and I let my eyes drift shut at the sound.
“Green is your favorite color, I know. I want you to imagine that I take you to Hotel Emma, to one of the two-story suites you love. The bedroom is lit in green to soothe you, make you start to let go of your day. At the foot of the bed, I have a massage table set up?—"
“Ooh,” I sighed, loving the scene he was painting.
“Don’t get excited, yet. First, I gotta turn on one of these 90’s R&B playlists that you love. Then, once Boyz II Men gassing ya head up, I’ma run you a bath in that clawfoot tub. I’ma add some of that bubble bath and those bath salts you like, high ass shit,” he teased.
“The stuff from Margot Elena is top notch. And you bought it!” I reminded him.
“Only the best for you, love. The scent and the feel of it on yo’ skin makes my dick hard as— damn, you taking me out of relaxation mode. Stop trying to seduce me!”
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. “Whatever. Continue.”
“A’ight. You soak that pretty body for a long time while I just watch you. I love looking at yo’ beautiful ass. You take a quick rinse in the shower. I dry you off, just a little moisturizing ‘cause you about to be oiled up in a minute. I lead you to the massage table and you drop the towel. I almost say fuck this massage.”
“Montréal! Focus! Relaxation,” I reminded him.
“Okay. You get comfortable on the table, giving me your back first. I pour a little oil on your spine. It’s warm. Smells like lavender and vanilla, since you relaxing. You feel it, love?”