Page 193 of Unchained

I have an opportunity to make something great. But I also want to build a life here, with him.

For the first time since the day I was born, I am happy.

Today, I woke up to the sun streaming through the bedroom window, with my personal barista, also known as my husband, whipping up another caramel latte for me.

I always claimed to hate sweet things. I didn’t do cute or sweet. But damn. That caramel syrup is to die for.

The door creaks open, and I spread my arms above my head, stretching like a cat.

“Is there anywhere I could call and schedule a massage?” I ask Colten as he walks to my side of the bed and sets down the steaming glass of deliciousness.

He’s in a pair of black boxers and absolutely nothing else. This man is a thousand different versions of fine.

“I’d assume so, baby.”

Now I’m feeling better; it’s about time I put him on his toes again. He’s seen the frail side of me, but he shouldn’t get used to that whole damsel in distress act I had going on; it was a one-off.

“I’ll call around; I need a male to do it to really get his hands into those knots in my shoulder blade,” I say, biting back a grin.

He rips off the blanket and sits down on the edge of the bed. The air brushing against my body makes my traitor nipples hard for him.

“Say that again,” he orders, his eyes burning into mine.

I run my hands over my hips, arching my back a touch. “I said, Colten… I need a man to put his hands on me and work out these knots. He needs to get really deep. Lots of pressure,” I tell him in a low, sultry tone.

He clears his throat and shifts his weight. He doesn’t say a word. It’s just a look. That look. The one where I know I’m in trouble.

“Then call one up, Gianna,” he says flatly, snatching my replacement phone from the nightstand, passing it to me.

I pluck it from his fingers and unlock it, typing in ‘massages near me.’

One pops up that's two miles away. That’ll do. I gotta see this through now I’ve started it. Hitting dial, Colten rests his rough hand on my thigh as a woman answers.

“Hi, Brows and Pamper. How can I help you today?” she greets me, far too chirpy for this time of the morning.

“Hey, I was wondering if you had any spaces available for a massage.”

“Sure. Let me take a look at the schedule.”

Colten squeezes my thigh, leaning in. “I’ll also take an appointment, G. But make sure it’s a woman. I’ve got a really, really tight muscle in my groin area,” he whispers.

I clench my fist at my side.

“We have today at half past two? Does that work?” The chirpy lady distracts me from wanting to strangle my husband.

“My husband also wants an appointment, but, you know how men are disgusting? Well, he has requested that only a woman massages him. So, actually.” I pause, taking a moment to smile at him. “He can have my appointment, and I’ll head right to the lawyer's office for a divorce.”

A gasp escapes me as he jumps on top of me.

“I’m so sorry, my wife is practicing becoming a stand-up comedian. She has a bit of work to do to perfect her routine, though. We don’t need any appointments either,” Colt says into the phone speaker.

My cheeks are now a million degrees as I cut the call and toss it over to his side of the bed. “You are insane, Colten. What the fuck?”

He cups my breasts in each hand and slowly starts to massage them. “You started it,” he says.

He pinches my nipples between his fingers and my back arches.

“I was only joking, cowboy. I don’t want anyone else's hands on me.”