Page 135 of The Boss Upstairs
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He walks over to the door and locks it. “The masseur also offers undressing services, if you’re interested.”
I giggle like a school girl. “Definitely.”
He closes the distance between us, and reaches for my sweater. He pulls it easily off. Then he proceeds to undo the buttons of my blouse excruciatingly slowly. He studies me intently, and I wonder what’s going through his mind. It’s more than lust. It’s intense.
He reaches for the button of my slacks and unzips me. The pants slide right off and pool to the floor. I step out of them, and find myself in nothing but my yellow panties.”
“I like it,” he says. “Very summery.”
His fingers toy with the band of my panties, and after a long beat, he finally peels them down and over my rear. He kisses my hips as he slides my undies down my legs. I’m already extremely turned on, and suddenly I wish we could skip the massage and jump right to the sex. But of course, I’m not woman enough to speak up. I reach back for the clasp of my bra and unhook it. My small breasts feel heavy and extremely sensitive under his touch.
He smiles. “The masseur apologizes… he already has an erection.”
I laugh out loud. “That’s fully understandable.”
He throws the pillows on the floor and pulls the bed covers back. “Please lay down on the mattress.”
I quickly oblige, and he trails a slow hand from my shoulders down my back, over my ass, down my legs, until he reaches my socks and pulls them off.
He tickles my feet and I wiggle. “No tickling,” I warn him. “I can’t stand it.”
He sits next to me on the bed and starts with my back and shoulders. I close my eyes. It feels heavenly. “How’s the pressure?”
“Perfect,” I moan.
His touch sends chills up my spine, up to the back of my neck. I can’t remember the last time I got a massage. I think it was on my honeymoon.
I’m brought back to that amazing day. We’d gotten married in Cancun, Mexico. It had been a favorite spot of ours when we were young. But I know I’ll never set foot there again. I wore a beautiful long white satin dress, and Donovan sported a nice grey summer suit. My bridesmaids, Claudia, Abigail and my sister Laura, wore pretty yellow dresses. The weather was beautiful, and the day perfect. I grin, remembering the most memorable day of my life and Donovan’s sweet smile.
Weston drops a soft kiss between my shoulder blades. “How was that?”
I moan. “Wonderful.” So wonderful in fact, I don’t want it to end.
He stands and reaches for the paddle brush on his dresser. I eagerly sit up and cover my breasts with my arms, ill-at-ease.
“Don’t,” he says softly. “You’re beautiful.” He settles right behind me, and grabs a handful of my hair. He drops another soft kiss on my shoulder, and suddenly, I don’t want my hair brushed anymore. I want much more.
He slides the brush gently down the crown of my head, around the nape of neck, and over my shoulders. It feels heavenly and I get lost in the sensation. I could definitively get used to this. He seems too good to be true. This is all happening so fast, and it’s so intense.
“This is kind of crazy, isn’t it?” I say.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“Us,” I clarify. “We’ve been moving so fast.”
A soft laugh escapes him. “Well, when it’s right, it’s right, Gretchen. Why slow it down? I’m a full-speed-ahead kind of man.”
I laugh. “I know.”
“This kind of love comes but few times in a lifetime, if ever, and if you’re lucky enough to find it, you grab it by the horns.”
Love.
I love his use of the word ‘love’. I like knowing that I’m not the only one fully invested in this.
“You haven’t even met my family yet, my mom and my sister,” I point out.
