“Not together, of course. That would be . . . totally inappropriate. I mean, I’m going to bed. In my room. Alone. Thank you for the massage. It was great. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She moved past him, her body brushing the tip of his cock as she did. It was painful and exciting at the same time.
It was like being fourteen years old again, caught in the locker room with a hard-on because he’d been fantasizing about Miss Smith, the hot twenty-three-year-old gym teacher who’d given them all wet dreams. How many times had he—hell, all the boys—tried to disguise erections when they’d been running track while Miss Smith had stood out in the center of the field working with the girls?
But he wasn’t an awkward teenager anymore. He was old enough to control his libido around a desirable woman, especially a woman he had a working relationship with.
Fuck. He dragged his fingers through his hair and walked down the steps, deciding he needed a walk by the ocean to cool down his raging hormones.
He stood on the beach, his cock hard and throbbing and seemingly in no hurry to go flaccid.
Great. If he could just get thoughts of Alicia’s body, her scent, out of his head, he’d go soft.
Instead, his head was filled with her, and his cock stayed hard. How was he going to explain that if he ran into her when he went back inside? She was already nervous and skittish around him, and waving his erection around would no doubt send her packing. He didn’t want to scare her off.
Maybe he’d just jack off here at the edge of the ocean. There were no other homes within miles of this secluded beach property, no boats out on the water, which gave him plenty of privacy. He was hard and aching, and it wouldn’t take much time to get off.
He drew his sweats partway down and pulled out his cock, taking it firmly in his grasp. It jerked in his hand, and he rolled his thumb over the head.
Garrett imagined Alicia walking out right now, seeing him like this. He knew how she’d likely react, but he imagined how he’d want her to react.
He’d want her to drop to her knees and put her mouth on him. His balls tightened at the mental image of her lips surrounding the swollen head, her tongue flicking out to lick up the pearly drops of fluid that spilled from the tip.
She had a beautiful mouth. He’d thought about kissing her again—a lot. Granted, he concentrated on her hands because she touched him, but her mouth—yeah, he wanted her mouth on him. On his mouth, on his skin, and definitely on his cock.
His balls tightened, and he gripped his cock, squeezing it as he jerked his hand over the soft skin. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, so close to the edge he was ready to explode. But the fantasy of Alicia on her knees was too sweet to let go of.
Just a few more minutes.
*
ALICIA PRESSED A COLD WASHCLOTH TO HER NECK, splashed water on her face, paced back and forth in her room, and finally opened the window, hoping the night air would do something to bring her internal body temperature down.
But nothing worked.
Having Garrett’s hands on her hadn’t helped, and try as she might to convince him to stop, he hadn’t. First her hands, then her neck and shoulders. He’d given her goose bumps.
In therapy training, they had all touched each other. She’d had plenty of great-looking men put their hands on her, and she’d never gotten turned on. Not once. After all, this was her job. She’d never been attracted to any of the men she’d gone to school with or worked with, either in a peer capacity or with a patient.
Until now.
Staying here at the house was only going to make things worse. This had been such a mistake. But she was stronger than her libido and her fantasies, and she could gain control over them.
Couldn’t she?
She pressed her cool hands to her hot face. What was wrong with her? She had to get a grip on herself, had to put some distance between them, put this sexual fire out, or she would never be able to do her job.
Because physical distance was an impossibility. She had to be able to touch Garrett and not go up in flames every time she did.
She opened the back door, letting the cool breeze fan the flames.
And then stopped, her jaw dropping as she caught sight of Garrett.
She blinked, certain she was imagining what she saw.
But as her eyes adjusted to the darkness outside, she made out Garrett’s form at the edge of the water.
His sweats were drawn down low on his hips, and he had his cock in his hand, slowly drawing it through his fist. He had his head thrown back and his eyes closed, the tension in his body evident as he touched himself.
Her throat went desert dry. She couldn’t swallow, didn’t want to move, afraid the slightest movement would draw his attention. She had to get out of the light, so she took a step back, ashamed that she was watching him in this private moment but so enthralled by what he was doing she couldn’t turn away.