Susan Mallery - Until We Touch

She asked the question without thinking, then remembered Jack and Taryn had been married briefly. She’d gotten pregnant and he’d insisted they do the right thing. When she lost the baby a few weeks later, they’d gotten divorced. As far as Larissa knew, they’d never been in love and the topic of their marriage wasn’t the least bit sensitive. At least not on the surface.

“Taryn wouldn’t appreciate the idea of being given or taken,” he said. “My guess is if she goes the big wedding route, she’ll hustle herself down the aisle.”

Larissa began to work on his back. His skin was warm and the oil she used allowed her hands to slide easily. The rhythm of her movements anchored her in place. The music was nice. Soothing, she thought.

“I got another call about the chiweenies,” she told him. “They’re going to make one more visit to talk to the lady. They’re pretty sure it’s a hoarding situation. The animal-rescue people are working with local law enforcement to get her to surrender the animals to avoid charges.”

“You’re not bringing dogs to my house.”

She smiled. “Would I do that?”

“In a heartbeat.”

* * *

JACK DID HIS best to give himself over to the massage. Much of the time, being worked on by Larissa was the best part of his day. His shoulder provided a steady ache and as he wouldn’t take drugs for it, he’d learned to live with the pain.

The heat pack she used eased some of it. Later she would dig her needle fingers into the joints, searching out scarring and grinding it into submission. That part wasn’t fun, but the result was relief—at least for a few hours.

Her voice washed over him. She told him about her causes and what was happening in town. Sometimes he listened and sometimes he didn’t. He’d learned that if it was important, she would tell him again.

But today he couldn’t relax. Not the way he usually did. Something was off. Not the massage table. It was the same, as were the sheets and the music. Even the oil she used was familiar.

But there was something. He tried closing his eyes, but that didn’t help. Her hands continued to move on his body, sliding down his back. Lower and lower. She worked his shoulder last—leaving it until he was ready to turn over. That way she could attack it from both sides. That’s what always happened. She put heat on his shoulder, did the whole back of him, then his shoulder. He turned over, she did the front of the shoulder, wrapped it in heat and then tackled the rest of him. They had a routine. It worked. So what was his problem?

Her hands stroked lower and lower on his back. He knew what was next. She would slide down his hip, then come up to the side of his butt and dig in to some pressure point. She would grind until he was about ready to come off the table, and then suddenly it would ease. Pain would flow out of him as if she’d pulled the cork on a bottle.

Sure enough she started on his right side. He wasn’t sure if she used her fingers or knuckles or what, but she unerringly found that damned spot every time and pushed to what felt like the center of his pelvis bone. The pain was sharp and white, almost like a knife. Nerve pain, he thought, recognizing the difference. He began to tense. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, there was a sudden absence of pain and he went limp.

Larissa walked around to the other side of the table and rested her hand on the small of his back, as if silently telling him she was there. Her fingers slipped down the side of his hip then up to his butt where she dug in again. Her free hand rested on the back of his thigh.

Did she always do that? Rest her hand there? Because it felt nice. She had good hands. Strong. The way she moved them. There was a confidence a guy could get used to. If she would just move that other hand a little higher and toward the center. If he parted his legs a little she could—

The sharp pain grew, but it wasn’t enough to distract him, and when it faded, there was a new ache in its place. A growing ache that he couldn’t immediately place. It was as if—

Jack silently swore as he realized he had an erection. What the hell? Now? During a massage? What was he—fifteen?

Stop it, he told himself. No way could he be aroused. Not like this. He never had been before. Okay, maybe a couple of times when it had been a long time between women, but then he thought about his relationship with Larissa and knew that was never going to happen. They were friends. He cared about her. He knew better than to sleep with someone he cared about.

The realization had always been enough to take care of the problem. But it wasn’t today. The more he thought he shouldn’t, the bigger he got. The more he told himself not to, the more he imagined what it would be like. Her hands moving all over him. Him touching her in return. His mouth exploring every part of her before he settled between her thighs and—

Shit!

Without having anything close to a plan, he grabbed the sheet below him and pulled it free of the pad. It came up easily.

“Jack?” Larissa stepped back from the table. “What are you doing?”

“I have to go,” he said, scrambling to his feet. He was careful to keep the sheet bunched around his raging hard-on and then bolted.

The locker room was across the hall. He raced inside, then headed directly for the showers. He turned on the cold water, then stepped into the spray.

Ten minutes later, order had been restored in his personal universe. Jack dried off and dressed. He picked up the soggy shoulder wrap and wondered how he was going to explain what had happened to Larissa. Maybe he could tell her he got sick. Would she believe that?

The locker room door opened. Jack groaned and turned, prepared to lie his way out of the problem. But luck was with him and instead of Larissa, he saw Kenny strolling toward him.

“What?” his friend demanded. “Larissa is out there, wringing her hands. She says you ran away without an explanation.” Kenny put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Bro, she’s worried. What’s up?”

Not the best choice of words, Jack thought, not sure if he was going to laugh or start swearing again.

He dropped the soggy pack onto the bench and settled next to it. He rested his head in his hands.

“I got a boner during the massage,” he admitted.

Kenny snickered. “Seriously? That’s what all the fuss is about? It happens. It’s no big deal.”

Jack dropped his hands and glanced at his friend. Kenny’s blue eyes were filled with amusement.

“You, too?” Jack asked.

“Sure. Larissa doesn’t care. We joke about it. Eventually it goes away. Why did this time freak you out?”

“Because I don’t usually have that problem.”

“You and Sam,” Kenny said. “You make things too complicated. Look, you’re not seeing anyone, you’re naked and a beautiful woman is rubbing on you. Biology, man. It’s all about biology.”

Maybe, Jack thought, but that didn’t explain why he felt so strange about it all.

“She’s out there, worrying,” Kenny told him. “Tell her you’re fine.”

“You do it.”

Kenny shook his head. “You’re making this more than it is. If you don’t talk about it now, you’re going to have to explain it later. It’s not going to get easier with time.”

Jack shrugged. That was a problem he would deal with when he had to. Until he figured out what had happened, avoiding Larissa seemed like a damned good plan.

* * *

LARISSA WALKED UP the front walk of Jack’s house. The imposing two-story structure was elegant. One of several sleek custom homes on the golf course. The yard was perfectly manicured, the windows large, the paint fresh. Jack was a big believer in hiring the right person for the job and it showed. Everything in his life was well tended.