Crash Pad by Whitley Gray Read Free Book Online

Remy’s spine. Jamie’s fingers stroked outward and down, working toward the small of Remy’s back. The heat of Jamie’s hands and the rhythmic motion woke Remy’s libido, and blood pulsed to his groin. He bit back a groan. Crap.
    Jamie paused. “Is it too hard?”
    “Maybe a little.” Maybe a lot. If you only knew . Beneath Remy, his cock swelled against the mattress, and he shifted. No one had ever given him a rubdown like this.
    “You’re really tense—tight as piano wire.” Cool lotion hit Remy between the shoulder blades, and he jumped. “Sorry.” Jamie’s voice came from near his ear.
    Remy grunted, fisted his hands beneath his chin.
    “Can you relax your arms by your sides?”
    Pulling his hands free, Remy stretched his arms down next to his body. The warm pressure of Jamie’s hip pressed against Remy’s hand, trapping it between them.
    The rocking motion continued as Jamie worked, releasing the kinks from Remy’s neck and back. This was a great massage—relaxing and erotic. He clamped down on the urge to hump against the mattress. The kneading skipped over the muscles of Remy’s ass—thank God—and resumed over his hamstrings, long strokes down to his toes. So good … His bones dissolved in pleasure and desire smoothed into drowsiness.
    “Turn over,” Jamie murmured.
    “Mmm?” He was comfortable right here.
    “Turn over.”
    Rolling to his back, Remy blinked a couple of times. He’d almost been asleep. They must be finished. The massage hadn’t lasted as long as Remy had hoped. As far as he was concerned, Jamie could keep touching him in any capacity. For a moment, Jamie studied Remy’s face, as if gauging his response. “Better?”
    “Yeah. Thanks. Haven’t been this relaxed in months.”
    Jamie’s gaze darted to Remy’s hips, then up to his face, settling on his mouth for a second before meeting Remy’s eyes. “Would you like me to work on this side?”
    Glancing at his own groin, warmth hit Remy’s cheeks. Shit. Shit, shit, shit . As he’d relaxed his erection had deflated, but a damp spot on the front of his boxer briefs screamed a silent confession.
    Jamie licked his lips, kicking off a hunger in Remy’s gut. Those blue eyes were sucking him in, drowning him in desire. I need to get out of here before I do something I shouldn’t.
    “Remy?”
    What’s happening? If he’d read this wrong, making a move could be disastrous. Remy chanced stroking the masseuse’s arm with his fingertips. “Do you want to… work on this side?”
    For an eternity, Jamie remained motionless.
    That had to be a “no.” Whatever Remy thought he’d seen in Jamie’s eyes, it hadn’t been an invitation. Nothing risked, nothing gained. Remy sat up. Advil and Icy Hot.
    With a sigh, Jamie pushed the damp hair off Remy’s forehead. The touch sent a shock of awareness straight to his cock, and Remy couldn’t convince it to remain flaccid. He let his eyes drift shut.
    Warm breath hit his lips, and he opened his eyes. All he had to do was lean in and this would go forward. This was such a bad idea. The worst. Don’t do this. He’s practically your patient. Just get up and walk away.
    He slid his palm around Jamie’s neck. Soft curls, warm skin. They bumped noses, chins, and then they were kissing. The roughness of unshaven jaws scraping, smooth lips moving in harmony. Remy had missed this. It was exciting, invigorating. The gentle probe of Jamie’s tongue parted Remy’s lips. Deeper—good. Jamie tasted of citrus and sunshine. Remy lay back, pulling Jamie with him.
    “You’re…trembling,” Remy said in surprise. “Are you—is this okay?”
    Jamie slid to the side and stretched out next to him. “Yes. I want to be here.”
    “Yeah? Because we don’t have to. You know that, right?”
    “Yep.” Heated lips traveled over Remy’s neck to his collarbone, sucked a kiss there, and he moaned. Jamie’s echoing moan hardened Remy like surgical steel. He tugged at Jamie’s shirt, got it