Until We Touch by Susan Mallery Read Free Book Online Page A

He tried closing his eyes, but that didn’t help. Her hands continued to move on his body, sliding down his back. Lower and lower. She worked his shoulder last—leaving it until he was ready to turn over. That way she could attack it from both sides. That’s what always happened. She put heat on his shoulder, did the whole back of him, then his shoulder. He turned over, she did the front of the shoulder, wrapped it in heat and then tackled the rest of him. They had a routine. It worked. So what was his problem?
    Her hands stroked lower and lower on his back. He knew what was next. She would slide down his hip, then come up to the side of his butt and dig in to some pressure point. She would grind until he was about ready to come off the table, and then suddenly it would ease. Pain would flow out of him as if she’d pulled the cork on a bottle.
    Sure enough she started on his right side. He wasn’t sure if she used her fingers or knuckles or what, but she unerringly found that damned spot every time and pushed to what felt like the center of his pelvis bone. The pain was sharp and white, almost like a knife. Nerve pain, he thought, recognizing the difference. He began to tense. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, there was a sudden absence of pain and he went limp.
    Larissa walked around to the other side of the table and rested her hand on the small of his back, as if silently telling him she was there. Her fingers slipped down the side of his hip then up to his butt where she dug in again. Her free hand rested on the back of his thigh.
    Did she always do that? Rest her hand there? Because it felt nice. She had good hands. Strong. The way she moved them. There was a confidence a guy could get used to. If she would just move that other hand a little higher and toward the center. If he parted his legs a little she could—
    The sharp pain grew, but it wasn’t enough to distract him, and when it faded, there was a new ache in its place. A growing ache that he couldn’t immediately place. It was as if—
    Jack silently swore as he realized he had an erection. What the hell? Now? During a massage? What was he—fifteen?
    Stop it, he told himself. No way could he be aroused. Not like this. He never had been before. Okay, maybe a couple of times when it had been a long time between women, but then he thought about his relationship with Larissa and knew that was never going to happen. They were friends. He cared about her. He knew better than to sleep with someone he cared about.
    The realization had always been enough to take care of the problem. But it wasn’t today. The more he thought he shouldn’t, the bigger he got. The more he told himself not to, the more he imagined what it would be like. Her hands moving all over him. Him touching her in return. His mouth exploring every part of her before he settled between her thighs and—
    Shit!
    Without having anything close to a plan, he grabbed the sheet below him and pulled it free of the pad. It came up easily.
    “Jack?” Larissa stepped back from the table. “What are you doing?”
    “I have to go,” he said, scrambling to his feet. He was careful to keep the sheet bunched around his raging hard-on and then bolted.
    The locker room was across the hall. He raced inside, then headed directly for the showers. He turned on the cold water, then stepped into the spray.
    Ten minutes later, order had been restored in his personal universe. Jack dried off and dressed. He picked up the soggy shoulder wrap and wondered how he was going to explain what had happened to Larissa. Maybe he could tell her he got sick. Would she believe that?
    The locker room door opened. Jack groaned and turned, prepared to lie his way out of the problem. But luck was with him and instead of Larissa, he saw Kenny strolling toward him.
    “What?” his friend demanded. “Larissa is out there, wringing her hands. She says you ran away without an explanation.” Kenny put his hand on