Just Trust Me…

“You’re not a medical doctor, and the only thing I’m physically capable of right now is…nothing. Okay, here’s a sentence I never thought I’d say, especially to an exceptionally hot and willing guy-I’m too tired for sex.”

“Compliment of ‘exceptionally hot’ noted and appreciated. But I wasn’t talking about sex. I was talking about a back rub. After I’m done, you’ll feel brand-new.”

“Brand-new would be nice. Because old, battered, aching, creaky and sore really sucks.”

“Fear not. I’ll rub away all your aches and pains.”

“Gotta warn ya, you’ll be rubbing for a really long time.”

His lips brushed against her temple, warm and comforting. “A really long time,” he repeated softly. “That’s what I’m counting on, princess.”

18

“HOW DOES THAT FEEL, princess?”

Ensconced in his small tent, Brett smiled at the long pleasure-filled sigh that constituted Kayla’s response. He continued to smooth his hands down her bare back, alternating long, gliding strokes with a circular kneading motion, working out the soreness and kinks.

He felt surprisingly well, considering the brutal workout of today’s hike. Of course, the warm shower after a hearty dinner had helped considerably toward reviving him. Not that there were any facilities here, other than the same bathroom-tent set-up as last night. But tonight, instead of “showering” with ice-cold river water, Ana had heated large pots of water so that everyone had gotten a bucket of warm water with which to bathe away the day’s dirt and sweat and strain.

A combination of pity and amusement curved his lips as he recalled how piteously grateful Kayla had been for the steaming water, with Eileen and Ashley not far behind in their gratitude. The men had been just as grateful-just less gushy than the ladies.

As he had last night, Alberto had directed them to a private area where they stripped. He’d held up Kayla’s bucket for her, tilting it to produce a thin stream of warm water under which she gratefully soaped up and rinsed. The air was chilled with a brisk breeze and they hadn’t lingered, just washed and dressed in clean clothes, then made their way back to the campsite.

The tents had been set up while they showered, and after dinner they’d bade the other hikers-all of whom were dragging their tired butts to their own tents-good night.

Once he and Kayla were inside his tent, Brett had secured the flap. Space was tight, but he had no objection to sharing a cozy space with her. She’d flopped facedown onto his sleeping bag and expelled a long moan.

“I may never move again,” she’d whispered.

“You don’t have to. Just relax.”

“Relax. Okay, good thing you told me that ’cause otherwise I would have hopped up and jogged a few miles.”

Chuckling softly, he’d stripped her of her clothes, then removed his T-shirt, but kept on his sweat pants. Straddling the backs of her thighs, he’d asked, “Do you have any sort of lotion in your backpack?”

“Front zipper compartment. Unscented stuff, so as not to attract bugs or snakes or whatever other creepy crawlers might be slithering about.”

“Good thinking.”

He’d located a tube bearing the La Fleur symbol and after squeezing some into his hand, rubbed his palms together to warm the lotion, then started slowly massaging his way down her back.

Now, twenty minutes later, she was showing small signs of life.

“That feels sooo goood,” she said as he worked out the tight knots in her shoulders. “If I’m ever able to rise from this spot, I swear I’ll pay you back.”

“Looking forward to that. But I’m fine. Let’s just focus on getting you whipped back into shape.”

“Okay. I’ll give you three days to quit massaging me. Not a minute more. Really. If you haven’t stopped by then, I’ll have to call the cops.”

“I’m not too worried. You don’t know how to call the cops in Spanish.”

“Oh. Right. So I guess you’ll just have to stop on your own after the three days are up.”

“Deal.”

“Have I told you what a nice man you are?”

“Twice. But hey, I like hearing it, so feel free.”

“You’re a very nice man.”

“Thank you.”

“Who has very nice, very talented hands.”

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

“Trolling for compliments?”

“Let’s just say I’d be willing to listen to any flattery you might want to toss my way.”

“You’re very smart. And strong. And thanks to you and the shower you gave me and this incredible massage, I may actually be able to move in the morning.”

“My pleasure.” His hands slowly rubbed their way down toward the base of her spine. “Anything else?”

One green eye peeked at him over her shoulder. “You mean other than sexy and witty and sexy and gorgeous and sexy?” She resettled her head against her folded arms. “Nah, I think that about covers everything.”

“You’re very nice, too, you know.”

For several seconds she stiffened under his hands. “I…I’m glad you think so.”

“I do. And you know that whole sexy, witty, sexy, gorgeous, sexy thing you said about me? Well, same goes, princess.”

And speaking of gorgeous and sexy…his gaze followed his hands’ path down the smooth, pale skin on her back, pausing over several scatterings of gilt freckles, skimming lower, until he gently kneaded her rounded buttocks. A prolonged mmm escaped her and she lifted her butt into his touch. Given the spectacular view, he was already as hard as steel, but his body reacted immediately, tightening further at her movement. He hadn’t really considered what sweet torture this massage would be for him.

Forcing himself to put aside his growing need and continue his ministrations, he shifted, nudging her thighs apart, then resettled himself on his knees between her spread legs. Squeezing out another generous dollop of lotion, he massaged her hips, then made his way down each shapely leg, manipulating the backs of her thighs and calves. Her long, soft moans of approval told him he was hitting all the right spots.

“Feel good?” he asked, working the arch of her foot with strong sweeping strokes of his thumbs.

“Good doesn’t begin to describe it. I think my toes just had an orgasm.”

The word orgasm shot arrows of pure lust through him, and he inhaled sharply. And caught the subtle scent of female arousal. Apparently she was as turned on as him. Thank God.

Sitting on his heels, he worked his way back up her legs. When he reached her buttocks, he changed the speed and strength of his strokes from healing massage to sensual caress. He spread his knees more, opening her thighs wider. His fingers lightly kneaded her supple flesh, then dipped lower.

Her sex was wet and soft, and he stroked two fingers into the velvety heat, while his other hand continued to gently massage her bottom.

“Brett…” His name was a husky groan filled with want, and his body responded by tightening to the point of pain. With another groan, she lifted herself up onto her elbows and pushed back against his hand.

“More,” she rasped, panting. “More.”

He added a third finger, pumping slowly. Her breathing turned more ragged and finally, with a strangled aaahhhh, her slick walls pulsed around him.

When her ripples subsided, he slipped out his fingers. Instead of going totally limp as he’d expected her to, she instead pushed herself up on her knees, then looked at him over her shoulder. Her eyes glittered with enough heat to incinerate him.

“More.”