Sophie had just said that, hadn’t she? She’d implied that she could practice a happy-ending massage on someone...and that someone could be Dash.
Maybe she’d turned feral at the sight of him reading a romance novel, or that yuzu tonic had more than just vitamins in it. Either way, she’d developed a borderline-unhealthy curiosity about the noises he’d make and the pleasure that would flash through him as he came.
The problem was she had no idea if her feelings were one-sided. But he’d floated the idea of them being friends with benefits, so she wanted to redeem some of those VIP Member perks.
As her hand rested on his knee, she waited for a sign, any sign, that he might be interested in more. Like, say, him acknowledging that her hand was there. But instead, he pulled into the driveway, parked the car, and killed the engine. Which likely meant that all signs pointed to a big unfortunate no.
He gently lifted her hand away from his knee, and her stomach sank at the realization that she was being rejected by him. Again. Would she ever learn? Was this another part of her deep issues with intimacy?
Eventually he said, “I haven’t done this in a long time.”
She wanted to tread lightly, as she was (sadly) unable to read his mind. “By this do you mean...?”
He sighed. “I haven’t been with someone in a long time.”
Her brows furrowed, because he hadn’t told her no, exactly, and his words seemed to imply that he would be open to her being the next someone.
“I see. Well.” Sophie took off her sunglasses and her eyelashes fluttered as she chose her words carefully. “The thing about a sensual massage is that all you have to do is lie there, so the stakes are low for you.”
His eyebrows rose, and she laughed.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. And you’d be helping me, too. Book research, and all.” She held up her backpack and patted the laptop inside, as if for evidence.
Dash took his sunglasses off and folded them in his lap before he looked back up. “Well, I’d hate to hinder any progress you’re making on what is sure to be a very juicy new novel.”
The flutters she’d become so used to when she was around him returned in full force. He watched her through hooded steely-blue eyes, and she froze at the intensity of his stare.
Eventually he broke the silence. “My place or yours?”
“What a line,” she replied with a laugh.
He laughed, too. “I told you it’s been a long time.”
She looked toward her door. “I don’t know that I’m ready to introduce you to my son, Rain Boots, yet. Let’s do yours.”
Dash gave her an amused look, and she felt a kind of cautious hope that made her nervous. Because she knew she couldn’t expect more than what Dash was able to give, but she would take what he had for now.
When they got to Dash’s house, he quickly led Sophie to his room, and she was surprised by how much...stuff was there. Dash’s neatly made bed was against a wall accented with a muted brown, yellow, and red patterned wallpaper—which reminded her of an early film he’d made with Wes Anderson—and on the opposite side was a long dresser, topped with dozens of ceramic dishes and vases. Above those were framed movie posters of Dash’s films, and on the floor were piles of DVD screeners. Even the ceiling had something going on—gorgeous dark-wood exposed beams in neat rows.
She picked up a ceramic tray from the dresser and turned it over in her hand. “This is cute. Where’d you get it?”
“I made it,” he said.
She blinked at him, still holding the tray. Then she brought it closer and examined every side. “I know you said you crafted, but these are... I mean, you could sell these, like, in stores.” She carefully placed the tray back on the table. “Poppy could even sell these at the spa—you’d both make a fortune.”
“I couldn’t ask her to do that.” He placed his palm against the wall, and Sophie’s eyes followed the line of his arm.
She didn’t know how to do this with him—how to be in a room and not be next to him. The oval window was open, and a warm breeze came through that made the place smell like fir and wet earth. She moved toward him as she said, “You wouldn’t have to ask her. If she knew you were this talented, she’d beg to sell them.”
When she stood a few inches from him, he ran a hand up her arm and a trail of goose bumps erupted at his touch. He eyed them, then her. “We don’t have to do anything. I just want you to know that.”
“I know we don’t have to.” Sophie stepped toward him, so they were eye to eye. If she’d learned something from the past two weeks it was that she’d spent most of her relationships trying to be what the other person wanted. But she was done hiding who she was. Sophie wouldn’t try to be perfect for Dash. She was going to speak her mind, because she knew Dash could handle it. “All I want is to get you naked, lie you down on that bed, and trace the lines of your tattoos with body oil.” She licked her lips at the thought of it, then said, “Does that sound good?”
A flush crossed Dash’s cheeks, and she was so surprised to see him caught off guard that she let out a chuckle.
“Whatever you want,” he eventually replied.
They weren’t one and done, and maybe they didn’t need a label. Their whole thing could just be to go with the flow and have fun. In fact, because they were friends with no added relationship pressures, she started to think she was more comfortable around Dash than she’d ever been with anyone else.
Dash took a step back to peel his shirt off and over his head. Sophie exhaled sharply as she eyed his beautifully inked torso, with lines that dipped into the top of his pants. He was a work of art.
“Usually, I leave the room while my clients undress, but I’ll stay, just in case you need assistance.” She had never been much into role play, but something about being in the room with Dash—an actor—made her feel like she could try.
And her words did seem to do the trick, as his mouth quirked up and he tugged at his belt buckle. “Might need a professional’s hand here.”
She stepped close and slowly released the belt from the buckle, then pulled it out and away from him. She tossed the belt over her shoulder and watched as Dash unbuttoned his jeans and took the zipper down. As he pushed his pants off, his boxers came, too, and she saw the hard length of him.
Sophie had seen a few dicks in her time, but this was...a cock. Hard and thick, and bouncing from the attention. She brought a hand to her lips to cover her gasp of delight.
“Show-off,” she said.
“Once a performer, always a performer.” He made a cutesy shrug.
She removed her hand from her mouth and finally locked eyes with him. They both shared an easy smile. Dash’s chest rose and fell as he stared back. She sensed they were both ready, so she cleared her throat.