Page 12 of Elijah’s Whim

“That’s right.” My answer was more out of curiosity as to where she was going with her comment while I continued to stimulate her through one of my personal favorite and most unexpected massage techniques.

“Then why go in the bathroom? I won’t stop you from doing what you need to do. It’s your house, after all.” Keeping her eyes closed, she gave that lazy grin I saw earlier, and I really wondered if she’d stolen my trick or if she’d always done it. Whatever the case was, she really made it work in her favor.

Hannah said quietly, “What are you doing to me? I feel like I’m on drugs. This all feels so good.”

“Beautiful girl, don’t let your relaxed body write checks your uptight mind won’t let it cash.” I squeezed her earlobes particularly long and hard between my thumbs and middle fingers until Hannah looked like she was about to protest and then backed off just before the sensation went over the edge in the wrong direction.

“Oooohhh. My God. Please…”

“Please what, baby?” I encouraged her to express herself.

“Why does that feel so good? So confusingly good.” Then she erupted with the sexiest laugh I’d ever heard in my life. “I feel…I feel…I don’t know what this is going on inside my belly, but something with you rubbing my ears. Oh, wait a second!”

She tried to push off my lap and sit up, but I saw her realization coming and headed her off at the pass. I knew eventually she would put the pieces together and realize she was aroused—that I was arousing her by rubbing her. That I had knowingly chosen that part of her body with the intention of getting her hot and bothered. Now I just had to wait and see what she would do with the results.

From the onset, I resigned myself to just being a spectator of the Hannah Farsey hormone parade. At least for tonight, anyway. Once she and I got to know each other better, I hoped like hell that would change.

I wouldn’t be on the sidewalk watching the parade go by. I’d be the motherfucking grand marshal.

Finally, after at least two minutes of silence, I gave in and asked, “Are you angry?” I couldn’t read her expression, and the quiet was making my skin crawl.

The silent treatment was one of my father’s favorite tactics when I was a young boy and a telltale sign one of his storms of fury was brewing. That building silence was almost worse than the chaos that would surely follow.

“No. I’m not mad. I’ve had a really nice night with you. Thank you for making me feel good. My shoulder doesn’t hurt in the slightest, so that’s a win.” Her accompanying smile bordered between genuine and not, and I just didn’t know her well enough to understand what was driving the reaction.

“Ms. Farsey, I will rub your body every single time you let me.”

She narrowed her eyes at me while pressing her lips together.

“What is this look?” I chuckled with the question, trying to keep my rising frustration at bay.

“You’re a little too good—at everything—for my own safety, I think.”

I couldn’t help it. I tossed my head back and laughed fully. For one thing, I was so glad she wasn’t mad and our night wasn’t going to end in an argument. Secondly, Hannah was refreshingly honest. It wasn’t something I came across very often in a woman, and I liked it.

I liked her.

I liked her a lot more than I expected to, in fact. Now I just had to get with Sebastian and Grant and see about solving this problem on our hands before I ended up falling in love.