Page 125 of The Holiday Clause

“Are you okay with a little heat?”

“Bring it.” His body already blazed. What did he have to lose?

She used hot stones on his sore muscles and wrapped his legs in warm towels. No one had ever touched his feet, and whatever she did to his toes, pulling and pinching, the sensation reached all the way to his tingling scalp.

“Time to turn over.” Cool air hit his ass as she lifted the sheet and his eyes widened.

“Uh…”

“I’m not looking. Just roll to your back and tell me when you’re ready.”

He quickly rolled over. “Ready.”

The sheet dropped like a blanket of air over him and tented at his groin. He deliberately looked as far away from her as possible, but felt her staring directly at his dick.

“Sorry.”

She pressed a calming hand on his shoulder and rounded the table to stand behind him. “No apologies for stuff like that between us, remember?” She bent and pressed an upside-down kiss to his lips. “And now, I can kiss you.”

Her soft breasts nudged his head as her scent enveloped him. The angle felt awkward, and his fingers itched to knot in her hair and pull her on top of him, but he resisted, keeping his death grip on the table.

“That better not be something you do with your other clients.”

“My other clients don’t get hard when I touch them.”

He doubted that.

As she worked her hands over his shoulders, he stared at her. Then she caught him watching her and smirked with those full lips. He was a dead man.

Closing his eyes only enhanced his other senses. Every touch carried the weight of a thousand caresses. His mind dwelt on her mouth, remembering the way she used it on him last night.

Don’t think about that!

No woman had ever made him feel like such a king. And never before had he been so comfortable communicating his desires.

Christ, his hard-on was never going down.

He focused on the ceiling, which wasn’t remotely helpful because the scent in the room shifted—richer now. Warmer. Something earthy and sharp that he recognized as her arousal, the intimate musk that meant she was getting as turned on as he was.

“Do you mind if I switch to a CBD-infused oil?” she asked in a soft whisper. “It’ll help with inflammation, but more than that, it’s good for nervous system regulation. You’ve been carrying a lot of stress.”

Baby, if you only knew….

“Whatever you think.” He trusted her to know best.

“Look at this as a full-body reset. No more overthinking. Clear your mind.”

Too late. His mind filled with a thousand versions of Wren. Naked Wren. Wren on her knees, shimmering eyes looking up at him as she devotedly swallowed his cock. Wren on all fours. Wren laughing. Wren with her hair mussed and her lips swollen from his kisses. Wren spread eagle, with all her glistening pink folds inviting him in.

His cock pulsed and he grimaced, sure a wet spot had formed on the sheet where pre-come leaked.

As she smoothed the oil across his chest and shoulders with featherlight strokes, he found it difficult yet somehow easier to breathe. Her hands felt warm and right on him, as if they were built to touch him. He couldn’t help the disappointment he felt when she switched back to the hot stones—though they did feel incredible.

“Let me know if the heat’s too intense.”

The smooth stones glided across his pecs and up toward his collarbone, leaving delicious heat in their wake. She alternated pressure, sometimes using the stones, sometimes her palms, sometimes just her thumbs tracing the edge of his traps. Every stroke teased his sanity a little looser.

She leaned in to reach the far side of his chest, her breath just barely grazing his neck, and he turned. He couldn’t help himself. He reached for her hair, tugging her close as he captured her mouth.