Special Ops Rendezvous. Karen Anders
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don’t scare that easily. You just surprised me. But I totally understand. I’m sure what you endured was something I can’t even comprehend. No harm done.”
He really liked the way this woman was so frank.
“Are you comfortable moving on? I just have your lower body left to do, but if you’d prefer ending the session, we can.”
“No, it’s fine as long as you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
She touched his lower back and he sighed. The small room seemed to get smaller as she bent over him, removing the sheet from one leg and tucking it securely under his opposite thigh.
She was close to him.
Very close.
Practically on top of him, and he was enjoying it a little too much—the whole thing, with her hands on him, and her voice close, and her fingers kneading and smoothing over his muscles, sliding over his skin. With every moment of contact, the heat in the small room rose another degree.
From then on it was pure torture trying to keep his body under control and in check. But as she moved around him to his other hip and then his hamstrings, her every touch sent a hot thrill straight to his groin.
And the sensual feel of her not-quite-impersonal hands caused a reaction.
He tried to minimize it. Tried to think of something to curtail his response, but it was no use.
He got an erection.
“I’m ready for you to turn over.”
He wanted to attribute the reaction of his body to not being with a woman for a long time, or to the fact that he’d just woken up from sleeping, but he knew better.
“Olivia, I have to let you know that I have an erection.”
When he looked at her, she didn’t bat an eye, but she looked a bit guilty. “That’s totally normal.”
He’d bet a lot of men got erections around her.
He really, really liked this woman’s direct and no-nonsense attitude.
“My job as a massage therapist is to help you integrate into your body. I’m here to help you heal not only from physical pain and injury, but also from emotional traumas that can be held in the body. Your body is the way it is and I don’t pass judgment on the normal and healthy reaction of a man. While an erection may be an uncomfortable topic for some, I have a different attitude about it.”
He laughed for the first time in a long while. “Well, if that’s the case, go ahead and finish.”
“Are you comfortable with it? I don’t want you to feel at all uneasy.”
He rolled over, sat up and stuffed the sheet down between his legs, trapping his dick between his abdomen and the tightened sheet, then lay back down.
She smiled and nodded. “Good. I like a client who is in tune with his body and accepts it. I might also mention, in case it happens, that you might even discharge semen, as well. Also, totally normal.”
Oh, jeez, she would have to bring that up. He had no idea why this woman was having such an effect on him. There was something about her that really turned him on. So, he wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t ejaculate, either. “Good to know,” he said, amused at her complete trust in him. “Just so you know, I would never be inappropriate with you, Olivia.”
“I trust that you would never do that, Captain Winston.”
“It’s Sam,” he said. “If you’re comfortable with my erection, you should be comfortable with my first name.”
She smiled at him, and although he saw her struggle with her impartiality, her interest was wholly there.
When she put her hands on him again, there was some distance this time. He wondered if she felt a little responsible for making him hard, since he was still pretty sure her touch had not been as professional as she was with other clients. He also had to wonder if she was feeling soft toward him because he had been so wounded.
Regardless, she did a wonderful job. His shoulders felt great and she’d done wonders on his hip. Now she was kneading his quad.
After about ten minutes she finished and stepped back. He was drifting, enjoying the rhythm of her hands and the feel of her palms against his skin.
“Make sure you drink plenty of water when you get home.”
“I know the drill.”
“I’m sure you do, but we always remind our clients.”
“Thank you, Olivia. This has really helped.”
“My pleasure, Sam.”
She smiled at him and left the room. He got off the table, shrugged into his robe, went back to the locker room and showered. Getting dressed, he navigated his way out of the spa just as Olivia was pulling the outside door open. He hurried to hold it for her. She glanced back and then smiled.
They walked to the parking lot.
“Sam, would you be interested in having a coffee with me?”
He looked down at her, those candid eyes never wavering. He felt himself leaning closer, breathing in her scent. Which was dangerous given his current state of mind. But he seemed helpless to curb the impulse. Olivia Marshall wore her confidence like a well-worn sweater. He was so tempted with all that soft skin and a slightly lush bottom lip that just begged a man to taste it. Bite it. Just a little.
He got a hold of himself. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I can’t. I’ve got an appointment.”
“Are you sure you couldn’t spare just half an hour?” she said, disappointment clear in her eyes. There was something else there, too—something that was there and then gone.
He hated to be paranoid, but something made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something in her voice that made him think...what? That she had targeted him? That was paranoid. She was a massage therapist, for Pete’s sake.
“I’m going to visit my mother.”
“Of course you would be. How is she doing?”
“She’s up and around along with Dan Henderson, her Secret Service agent.”
“That was so terrible. It must still be a difficult time for you.”
He nodded.
“Maybe some other time, then, for that coffee?”
“Maybe,” he said noncommittally.
As Olivia walked away, everything seemed to pile in on him all at once. Mike’s betrayal, his mother’s shooting, Dr. Owens’s death, the blackouts, the nightmares and feeling as if he couldn’t trust himself.
It was such an alien feeling and he wouldn’t have minded a nice woman to take his mind off it all. But it wouldn’t be fair to subject her to all his crap. Letting her go was a smart move.
So why didn’t it feel right?
He shifted his shoulders. Had he killed Dr. Owens?
Had it been a dream?
Or had it been reality?
* * *
As soon as Dan Henderson heard that Trey Winston was on the estate, he stepped inside Kate Winston’s sumptuous all-white master bedroom suite and spoke quietly to her while she was handling some correspondence from her desk. He let her know he was going to be right back and brought up another agent to stand guard outside her door.
Moving silently through the house and down the wide mahogany staircase, he went looking for Trey. One of the agents said he had gone into the library. When he knocked on the library door, then walked in, he was brought up short. Trey and Debra were playing kissy face near the desk. “Henderson, aren’t