If It Fornicates (Market Garden, #4)

“Okay.”

Both hands moved left, framing Nick’s shoulder, and then Spencer pulled it back a little with one hand while he dug in with the other. Something inside rubbed together like dry bones.

“There’s your knot. Well, knots.”

“Don’t ask me to make cogent conversation.”

Spencer chuckled. “Relax and think of England?”

Nick laughed softly. “Whatever.”

“Just keep breathing.”

Through gritted teeth, Nick said, “You giving orders now?”

“No.” Spencer pressed a little harder, sending an eye-watering bolt of red pain through Nick’s shoulder. “Just offering suggestions so you stay conscious.”

“Not sure I want to at this point.” Eyes shut tight, Nick pushed out a breath through his parted lips. “Fuck . . .”

“Quit fighting it.”

Nick started to protest, the Dom rearing his head and wondering just who the fuck Spencer thought he was, ordering Nick around, but Spencer’s comment drew his attention to where hands met shoulder, and he realised he was fighting him. Pulling back when Spencer pushed, stiffening muscles Spencer was trying to release.

Exhaling slowly, he willed himself to relax. The red faded. The tension started to ease. Spencer kept the pressure on the tender muscles, alternately kneading with his knuckles (which hurt) and the heel of his hand (which hurt less) until finally, the stiffness melted.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Nick slurred as his entire shoulder started to relax.

“Didn’t, to be honest.” Spencer was using his palms now, making firm circles over the area that he’d just worked on. “Guess I have a knack for it.”

“You should’ve gone into this line of work instead of the one you’re in.” Nick rolled his shoulder under Spencer’s hands. “You’re damned good at it.”

Spencer didn’t respond. He lifted one hand away and picked up the massage oil. Room temperature liquid pooled on Nick’s back beside Spencer’s other hand, like he’d poured it over the back of that hand and the excess was spilling onto Nick’s skin.

Spencer put the bottle aside, and then continued working on Nick. He inched towards Nick’s other shoulder, making smooth, slick circles and melting the tight muscles beneath them. By the time he had Nick’s right shoulder in his hands, it was almost as relaxed as the other one.

“Is conversation still out?” Spencer slowly applied more pressure to Nick’s muscles.

“It will be if you hit another knot like that other one, but we’re good for now.” Nick’s eyelids were heavy. “Assuming I don’t fall asleep.”

“If you’re that relaxed, be my guest.”

The room was silent except the soft hiss of slick hands over skin.

Nick brought up one arm and folded it under his head to prop himself up, and then turned so he could see Spencer in his peripheral vision. “Something on your mind?”

“I . . .” Spencer’s hands faltered before resuming their gentle circles. “Just thinking about a few things, but nothing . . . nothing earth-shattering.”

Nick’s shoulders may have been relaxed, but something knotted in his gut. “Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity. What’s up?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment. Judging by the slower and slightly less focused motions of his hands, he was distracted. Thinking. Perhaps trying to form the words. Finally, “I was thinking about our conversation the other night. About things I want us to do together.”

“Mm-hmm?”

The motions were a little steadier and more confident now. “I guess it just got me thinking, and—” Words and hands both paused. Hands started again. Words still hung in suspended animation.

“You can ask for anything, Spencer,” Nick said softly. “There’s no rule against telling me what you like or what you think you might like.”

“It’s just your decision whether or not it happens?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay.” Silence fell again, and Spencer kept rubbing Nick’s shoulder. “Do you ever let other men fuck you?”

Nick cleared his throat. “Are you asking if I let my clients fuck me? Or are you asking if I’ll let you?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Which answer do you want more?”

The silence lasted awhile this time. Possibly a full minute or more, though Nick lost track of time as he tried to stay conscious while Spencer’s hands turned his bones to liquid. God in heaven, this man needed to change careers.

Spencer drew a deep breath. “Would you let me?”

There was no way Spencer missed the full-body shudder. Or the goose bumps prickling Nick’s scalp and all the way down to his feet. Especially the ones on the skin Spencer was still massaging.

“Is that what you want?” Nick asked.

“I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“Yes,” Spencer said without hesitation this time. “I want to.”

Nick swallowed. “To answer your other question, no, I don’t let my clients fuck me. And I’ve only ever let a few guys do it. Three I can think of.”