Chapter 1
Julie Stanford took a deep breath before shoving aside the curtain to walk into the massage room where Nathan was laid out in all his glorious, naked splendor. Of course, he would be on his belly, with a towel draped across his ass. His very tight, gorgeous ass.
He stiffened slightly as she moved closer, the roll of muscles across his back betraying him. Despite what he might try to portray, he wasn't immune to her. Not by a long shot.
Ah well, it didn't matter. After today, she was so moving on from her fixation with Nathan Tucker. She had fantasies to live, great sex to have, and ... Okay, she'd settle for great sex. No need to get carried away.
Humming to herself, she readied her supplies then turned to the feast of male flesh before her. Before, she'd always worked with his display of modesty and left the towel over him. She'd never pressed him to turn over so she could do his front, even though she knew damn well the only reason he refused was because he didn't want to get caught with an erection.
But today? She wasn't in an accommodating mood. Nope. This was her last chance to savor him, and she was going to enjoy every minute of it.
First thing she did was whip off the towel and toss it across the room. He jerked and reached blindly back with his hand.
"What the hell?" he muttered as he twisted and maneuvered, all while trying not to turn over.
She grinned and placed her hands over his shoulders to shove him back down to the table. He quieted immediately at her touch even though he went so tense that it would take her the better part of an hour to work out the kinks.
He wanted her. But for whatever reason, he didn't want to want her. And that irritated her. What was so wrong with her? It wasn't like she was a clinging vine, desperate for love and commitment.
The idea that he could be so appalled by his attraction to her stung.
Trying to tamp down her flashing aggravation, she concentrated on the smooth muscles of his shoulders as she worked over his tanned skin. Soon, calm invaded her as she lost herself in the intense pleasure of touching him.
She took her time, determined to make it last. After today she was resigning as his massage chick, and she was off to greener pastures, thanks to Damon Roche.
Okay, so she hadn't exactly talked to him yet. She'd wanted to give him and Serena time to sort out their differences before she hit him up. But he was a nice guy, and she was convinced he'd help her. Faith had been equally sure.
A dreamy smile curled her lips upward as she imagined the possibility of Damon arranging her sexual fantasy at The House.
When Nathan made a sound, she frowned and looked downward. She'd worked her way to his ass, and as soon as she began kneading his tight buns, he'd let out what could only be described as a strangled protest.
She wanted to laugh, and had to swallow hard to prevent it. She needed to snap out of her daydreams and get her head back in the now. Hell, Nathan Tucker was here, naked, under her fingertips, and she was fantasizing about getting it on with two other guys.
Her fingers trailed over the hard globes of his ass before she cupped and rolled the supple flesh under her palms. He made a desperate little sound that had her stifling the laughter again. Yet, he made no effort to stop her.
There was a light smattering of hair at the small of his back that trailed down the cleft, and she followed it with one fingertip. He sucked in a breath and went completely still as she teased the region between his cheeks.
Then, as if she'd never dared to push the boundaries of the massage, she traveled to his thick legs, caressing and molding the bulging muscles of his thighs.
Man, she loved touching him. It was addictive. He was supposed to be gaining the larger enjoyment from the massage, but she wasn't sure that was the case, because she was in heaven.
When she got to his feet, she spent several minutes massaging the arch and instep before finally traveling back up his body. Her mouth watered as she imagined following her hand with her tongue. But no. Not yet. She wouldn't show her hand before it was time. Even if she did have the strongest urge to lean down and bite him right on the ass.
His head was to the side, his cheek resting on the pillow she'd provided. His eyes were closed but there were lines of strain gathered at his temple. She reached down to smooth them away. Her hands slid across the smooth skin of his bald head, then to the base of his skull.
According to Faith Malone, Nathan had always worn his hair longer and shaggy . . . until the day he'd lost a bet with Micah Hudson and was forced to shave it all off. Faith had convinced him he looked hot with a shaved head and goatee and told him all he lacked was an earring to complete the look. She'd brought him to Julie's to pierce his ear, and so began Julie's obsession with Nathan Tucker.
And today would end it.
Impatient and ready to end the buildup, she pulled her hands away from his skin and stepped back. Predictably, he shifted and raised the upper portion of his body as he looked frantically for the robe he'd discarded earlier.
"Turn over," she directed calmly.
His gaze met hers, and she shivered at the intensity in his green eyes.
"No," he said. "Now where the hell is my robe, a towel, anything!"
She wouldn't laugh. No, she wouldn't.
"Turn over, Nathan."
There was steel in her voice, and he looked surprised by it.
"What the hell?"
"Afraid I'll see your hard-on?" she asked in an innocent voice. "Really, Nathan, I didn't peg you for a coward. It's not like an erection is uncommon in my male customers. Now turn over so I can finish the massage." She didn't add that it would be his last.
His eyes narrowed, and as if answering the challenge, he turned sharply, rolling his naked body until he was flat on his back.
Her breath left her in one gigantic whoosh. Holy hell in a bucket, but "hard-on" didn't do justice to the magnificent erection jutting from his groin.
Her gaze was absolutely fixed on his cock. She wanted to wrap both hands around it and stroke, touch, caress, and then she wanted to taste. God, she wanted to taste.
She did crude measurements in her head, because damn, he was stacked. Long and thick. She'd had good, but she'd never had this nice. Would be a damn shame if he didn't know what to do with it. Not that it mattered to her, because the time for that was over.
"If you're through staring," he grated out.
There was a hint of embarrassment in his voice, and she grinned before allowing her gaze to drift upward until it connected with his.
"Very nice," she murmured. "One has to wonder why you took such pains to hide it from me."
He muttered several curses under his breath. "Can we just finish this?"
"Oh yes," she purred as she moved closer to him again. "I'm going to finish, all right."
He looked at her cautiously, nervousness in his eyes. Smart man.
She climbed onto the table and straddled his thighs just below that nice, straining erection. It was going to kill her to take this nice and slow, but she was determined to have him begging before it was over with.
"What the hell are you doing, Julie?"
Her palms met his abdomen and glided upward over his chest as she leaned over him. She stared down at him unflinchingly.
"You have two choices. You can shut up and not say a damn word until I'm done or I can gag you. In either case, I'm going to have my way."
He cocked one eyebrow as he stared up at her. "Bossy damn woman today. What's got into you?"
"Well, certainly not you," she grumbled.
He started to say something else, but she put her hand over his mouth.
"Not a word, Nathan," she said lightly.
He glared at her but didn't say anything else. She pulled her hand away, very conscious of his cock digging into her belly. She wanted to strip off every piece of her clothing, scanty as it was. But then, this wasn't about her.
Then she caught him staring below her chin and she looked down, following his line of vision. He was focused on her breasts. Her very nice tatas that she'd plumped and stuffed into the too-small bra. The tatas that were about to pop out of the thin halter top she was wearing.
Unabashed by his interest—it wasn't like she hadn't tried for months to get him to look at her—she leaned forward a bit more so he got a really good look.
"I'm pretty sure what I'm about to do violates the code of ethics of my profession," she said huskily. "But you know what? It'll be worth it."
His body tightened underneath her. A quiver worked through his thighs and over his taut belly. She shifted back, sliding her hands over his too-perfect chest, down the thin line of hair leading to his navel.
No longer able to hold back, she bent her head and swirled her tongue around the shallow indentation.
"Shit," he hissed.
She smiled as she pulled away. Her hands closed around his cock as she scooted down to his knees to give herself better access.
Hot steel. He was hard as a rock and pulsing in her hand. With both hands wrapped around his dick, he still had two inches above her grip. Man, oh man, she wanted him inside her, filling her. He was made for a woman's pleasure.
He sucked in his breath when she lowered her head. Her tongue shot out and traced a delicate line around the head. Then she sucked him hard inside her mouth, taking him whole and deep.
His back came off the table like a shot, spasms ricocheting through his body. But he kept silent, according to Julie's dictate.
He tasted wholly male, or like she imagined someone as big and rugged as he was would taste. Strong. He was equal parts satiny, as her tongue glided over the smoothness of his shaft, and rough, as she encountered the pulsing veins and wrinkled flesh of his foreskin.
The crown of his dick was tight. Silky at the top, puckered around the flared edge. She lapped hungrily at it in anticipation of his release. Not that she planned to let that happen for a while yet.
She paused and pulled her head away, keeping her fingers curled around the base. She glanced up to see him staring down at her, his eyes glittering with lust. Yeah, well, she wasn't going to get any grand ideas that he wanted her. Wrap your lips around a man's cock and shove breasts at him, and he wouldn't give a shit about who you were or worry about deeper attraction.
She winced. Gee, try to not take that personally.
Determined not to look back at him, she lowered her eyes and set about driving him crazy.
Deep. Sucking. Swallowing as she guided him deeper still. His fists were curled into tight balls at his sides as he strained upward to thrust into her mouth.
And then she stopped. She released him slowly, letting her lips glide sensuously over his cock on its way out. He arched helplessly toward her, but she raised her head out of his reach.
"Goddamn, Julie, what do you want?" he asked desperately.
She loosened her hold on his dick and rocked back until her bottom rested on his knees. She stared levelly at him.
"I want you to beg."
He glared at her. "I don't beg. Ever."
She smiled, accepting his challenge. "Well see about that, Tucker."
She leaned down again, pulling his cock up so that the underside was accessible. With a long swipe, she licked from the base to the head and then rolled her mouth over the crown. She sucked him deep, taking all of him. Her nose met the short, crisp hairs of his groin, and still, she held him deep, swallowing.
His groan split the air. He was close. Really close. But she was determined not to make it easy. What was the point in giving the man the best head of his life if she was going to cut it short? She wanted him to remember. To lay awake at night, his skin alive with want. She wanted him to want her. To realize what he'd never have again.
If that made her vindictive, oh well.
He cursed when she pulled him close to his orgasm and then stopped, allowing him to slide away from sweet release. When he calmed beneath her, she began again, coaxing and unrelenting.
The third time he trembled beneath her, ready to explode in her mouth, she pulled away again.
"Julie, please! God, just finish it. I'm . . . begging."
With a wicked smile she descended, taking him hard. His hips arched convulsively, his ass bumping against the table as she fucked him with her mouth.
"Oh, God," he breathed. "Shit. Julie. I'm going to come."
Her grip tightened around him and she worked her hand up and down in unison with her mouth. His hips shot upward in one continuous bow. His cry ripped over her ears just as his cum shot into her mouth, hot and silky.
She took it all, sucking and swallowing as he shook beneath her. His hips fell as he slammed back onto the table, and she followed him down, her mouth never leaving his cock.
His hand tangled in her hair, the first time he actually touched her. His fingers glanced off her scalp as he almost tenderly stroked through her hair. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment, the pleasure of his touch.
Then, slowly, she pulled away, refusing to meet his eyes. This wasn't the time to get caught up in the ooey-gooey aftermath when half of what was said was bullshit and the other half was the result of the brain still not functioning after a mind-blowing orgasm.
She slid off the table and straightened her clothes. Across the room his robe, and the towel she'd tossed away, lay carelessly strewn. She hurried for both then turned and tossed them in Nathan's direction.
