Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I knew my best bet was to keep my hands to my damn self.
But I reached for one of her feet and pressed both my thumbs into her arch.
The long moan that escaped her went right to my dick as she stretched out against the couch, eyes closed, her breathing deep and slow.
That was all the encouragement I needed.
Unfortunately, though, the more I rubbed her sore feet, the more her breath hitched, the more she whimpered and moaned, and even arched her back off the cushions in pleasure.
I had to do my own deep breathing, trying to reason with the desire growing in my body. I didn’t want my cock getting hard when her legs were over my lap.
“Forget being a biker,” she said as I released one foot to reach for the other. The first leg fell onto my chest. “You could make a great living as a foot massager. I would pay good money for this.”
“You can have my hands anytime you want them,” I told her. I hadn’t meant for it to come out sexually. But the way Tessa’s legs pressed together made it clear she’d taken it that way.
And that was the last damn thing I needed to know.
I forced myself to focus on her foot.
But once I was done with that, I went ahead and let my hands work up her ankles, then her tight calves.
Tessa’s breathing went shallow and quick as I worked up her calf, then made it to the undersides of her knees.
It was right then I learned that the backs of her knees were a hot spot for her. A surprised, throaty moan escaped her lips, and her thighs actually spread.
And, well, I couldn’t fucking help myself, could I?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Tessa
I’d been successful at avoiding alone time with Rook. I even managed to keep my distance when we went to the clubhouse to have Detroit’s food with his brothers and some of the women.
I managed that by showing up late, then going to hang out with the chickens or walking Murphy’s dogs after our meal.
And, of course, work came in clutch when it came to not being stuck in the tiny apartment with Rook all around, looking how he looked, conjuring up fantasies I had no business thinking.
By the time I finished up my last deliveries, fueled up the car, and grabbed myself something to eat, I was making my way into the apartment sometime after ten or so.
From there, it was easy to kill another hour or two by doing laundry and taking a shower before bed.
Was I exhausted? Down to my bones. But it was the only way I could stay away from Rook without it seeming like I was trying to stay away from him.
But with how bad my damn feet had been aching, I was starting to think that I should pick up some hobby or something that would keep me away from home.
The foot roller I’d bought had been helping but not quite alleviating the pain entirely.
Unlike Rook’s magic damn fingers.
The second Nancy left, I really should have climbed off the couch, put the distance between us again.
Because the second his thumbs pressed into my aching arches, there was no moving away.
At first, the touch was genuinely just comforting, pain-relieving.
It wasn’t long, though, before the sensation went from sweet to heated.
Was part of it pent-up sexual frustration from not even allowing myself to rub away the tension I’d been feeling toward Rook?
Sure.
But as Rook’s fingers went up my calves, I started to believe it was more than that. Deeper.
As he touched me, it occurred to me that it was the first time in my whole life that a man had touched me purely for my enjoyment.
Maybe to some, that wasn’t a big deal. But to me, it felt significant. To know selflessness from a man, to enjoy selfishly. My former life had never afforded me that luxury.
I was just coming to terms with that when Rook’s fingers found the backs of my knees.
And I damn near had a little O right then and there.
As it was, a needy moan escaped me and my legs parted in silent invitation for more.
No one could fault Rook for accepting that invitation.
His one hand flattened and traveled up my inner thigh. I had plenty of time to object, to think better of what was going on, of coming to my damn senses.
I did none of that.
I just let my eyes drift closed and focused on the sensations as—at first—he was just massaging my muscles.
But then his fingers were moving over my pelvis, teasing over the V above my sex.
I expected more teasing, more touching.
But, suddenly, Rook’s fingers were grabbing the waistbands of my pants and panties and dragging them down and off.
I was bare before I could even wrap my head around what was happening.