Read Online In Touch (Play On #1) by Cd Brennan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cd Brennan
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of the room and back before he’d answered. The way they shone, all glassy. The way he walked with stiffness in his step. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not anymore.
“Take your shirt off, please, and lie on the table with your head at the far side. I’m sure you are familiar with massage. Head goes down in the center.”
She pulled her hoodie over her head and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. She bent at the waist and shook her hair down, bunched it up, and pulled it through the ponytail holder that resided permanently on her wrist. When she stood up, Padraig was staring at her as if she’d grown two heads. Maybe she had a ketchup stain on her tank top. She held the shirt out but saw nothing. Huh.
At his almost imperceptible nod, her courage grew. Just like any client. “Lie here on your stomach.”
He did as instructed and settled his head onto his overlapped hands, elbows jutting out like chicken wings. In gentle, fluid movements, she un-tucked each hand and arm and let them trail down the sides of his body. She lifted his hips to lower his track pants so they rode low on his bum. Sweet mercy. His ass was divine. Rounder and juicier than a summer cantaloupe.
But she was a professional, and he, a client. And a jock. A deep breath in and out. Gillian uncapped the jar and rubbed her palms with the ointment.
“What the hell is that smell?”
“None of your worry. It works really well. Hasn’t anyone told you the smellier the concoction, the better the results?”
“Just like Rory. You are all mad,” came muffled through the table.
“Crazy knows crazy. Now shush.”
She started at his lower lumbar and moved her hands in sweeping motions up his back, around his side, under his armpits, and finally over his shoulders. She began again at his lower back and kneaded and rolled along his spine, then outward, circling her palms over knotted muscles. Hitching his pants lower, she delved under his boxer band, massaging the top of his bum, smoothing the muscle out and away from his spine.
As normally happened once she was in rhythm, the time ticked by. After a few repetitions along his torso, she stopped to check on him.
He appeared to be asleep. The endorphins released by the massage weighted him to the table, as happened with most of her clients when they fell into a peaceful lethargy. So quiet, she couldn’t hear him breathe. Wide back, broad shoulders, dark, tousled hair. A man any woman would want. Except for Gillian. He was no Lloyd Dobler.
So not to startle him, Gillian withdrew her hands from his back with a soft swish of her fingers. With a deep breath, she took a step back and waited. But he didn’t move.
She should really be getting him up and out the door so he could catch his lift from Del, but she couldn’t get herself to do it. Instead of waking him, she decided to let him rest. So she took a seat on one of the chairs along the wall. Leaning her elbow on her knee and resting her jaw in her hand, she watched him sleep. A dark, manly brow that had finally relaxed. Black, thick lashes. Strong nose and a top lip that came to a defined point.
He was gorgeous, really.
She was so mesmerized that when his eyes blinked open, she screamed. Just like in a horror movie when the corpse comes to life. She had scrambled halfway up her chair when he let out a laugh.
Her hand over her racing heart, she didn’t see the humor, but then, he’d only opened his eyes, which didn’t normally elicit such a dramatic response. She was still shaky as she gathered her gear together. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move, first to sitting where he waited a few beats, then onto his feet.
As he was pulling his shirt over his head, Del barged through the door. “Everything all right here?”
Both she and Padraig responded in unison. “Fine.”
Del raised a brow. “Uh-huh.”
Rory crowded in the door behind him and said to Padraig, “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, all set.” He stopped at
“Take your shirt off, please, and lie on the table with your head at the far side. I’m sure you are familiar with massage. Head goes down in the center.”
She pulled her hoodie over her head and hung it on the hook on the back of the door. She bent at the waist and shook her hair down, bunched it up, and pulled it through the ponytail holder that resided permanently on her wrist. When she stood up, Padraig was staring at her as if she’d grown two heads. Maybe she had a ketchup stain on her tank top. She held the shirt out but saw nothing. Huh.
At his almost imperceptible nod, her courage grew. Just like any client. “Lie here on your stomach.”
He did as instructed and settled his head onto his overlapped hands, elbows jutting out like chicken wings. In gentle, fluid movements, she un-tucked each hand and arm and let them trail down the sides of his body. She lifted his hips to lower his track pants so they rode low on his bum. Sweet mercy. His ass was divine. Rounder and juicier than a summer cantaloupe.
But she was a professional, and he, a client. And a jock. A deep breath in and out. Gillian uncapped the jar and rubbed her palms with the ointment.
“What the hell is that smell?”
“None of your worry. It works really well. Hasn’t anyone told you the smellier the concoction, the better the results?”
“Just like Rory. You are all mad,” came muffled through the table.
“Crazy knows crazy. Now shush.”
She started at his lower lumbar and moved her hands in sweeping motions up his back, around his side, under his armpits, and finally over his shoulders. She began again at his lower back and kneaded and rolled along his spine, then outward, circling her palms over knotted muscles. Hitching his pants lower, she delved under his boxer band, massaging the top of his bum, smoothing the muscle out and away from his spine.
As normally happened once she was in rhythm, the time ticked by. After a few repetitions along his torso, she stopped to check on him.
He appeared to be asleep. The endorphins released by the massage weighted him to the table, as happened with most of her clients when they fell into a peaceful lethargy. So quiet, she couldn’t hear him breathe. Wide back, broad shoulders, dark, tousled hair. A man any woman would want. Except for Gillian. He was no Lloyd Dobler.
So not to startle him, Gillian withdrew her hands from his back with a soft swish of her fingers. With a deep breath, she took a step back and waited. But he didn’t move.
She should really be getting him up and out the door so he could catch his lift from Del, but she couldn’t get herself to do it. Instead of waking him, she decided to let him rest. So she took a seat on one of the chairs along the wall. Leaning her elbow on her knee and resting her jaw in her hand, she watched him sleep. A dark, manly brow that had finally relaxed. Black, thick lashes. Strong nose and a top lip that came to a defined point.
He was gorgeous, really.
She was so mesmerized that when his eyes blinked open, she screamed. Just like in a horror movie when the corpse comes to life. She had scrambled halfway up her chair when he let out a laugh.
Her hand over her racing heart, she didn’t see the humor, but then, he’d only opened his eyes, which didn’t normally elicit such a dramatic response. She was still shaky as she gathered her gear together. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move, first to sitting where he waited a few beats, then onto his feet.
As he was pulling his shirt over his head, Del barged through the door. “Everything all right here?”
Both she and Padraig responded in unison. “Fine.”
Del raised a brow. “Uh-huh.”
Rory crowded in the door behind him and said to Padraig, “You ready to go?”
“Yeah, all set.” He stopped at
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