Wild Seduction. Daire St. Denis

      She shook her head. Oh, no. This would not be good. “I can’t. I’ve got to be at work by seven.”

      “Plenty of time. It’s just a massage. That’s all.”

      Sure, but last time she’d given a massage to a man, that wasn’t all. That was only the beginning.

      * * *

      AFTER HIS RIDE, Colton had gone to the trailer to see how well it was set up. He’d gotten the whole massage idea quite by accident. It was when Angus, one of the hands who helped out as an outrider, was rubbing down his horse’s legs. It made him realize that he’d forgotten to book an appointment with Lucy. Quickly following that thought was the realization that Ms. Feisty in the short shorts owed him.

      A + B = C.

      Simple.

      Then he’d come back to the trailer to see if it would work for said appointment. All he’d had to do was hook up the electrical outlet and the water hose, and she was good to go. He’d picked up a few groceries and some beer from the corner store down the block from where the trailer was parked on the end of Elm and then had come back to meet Ashley.

      He’d had no intention of making this about anything other than a massage, until they started wrestling.

      Goddamn.

      She may be tiny, but she was strong, and feeling her writhe beneath him with those long, bare legs and that taut tummy? Well, fuck it all, he’d gotten the stiffest Johnson he could remember having in a long time.

      “So, where are we going to do this?” She eyed the couch and the bunk near the front of the trailer.

      There was a slide-out bedroom in the back, and Colton indicated that direction with a swing of his head. “Bedroom in the back.” He’d already made the bed with clean sheets from the cupboard.

      “Do you have any lotion or anything?”

      Shit. He knew he’d forgotten something. Reaching overhead, he opened a cupboard searching for something. There was a bottle of olive oil and some coconut oil. He passed them to her.

      “Do you want to taste like olives or coconut?”

      “And who might be doing the tasting?”

      Her eyes went large before quickly narrowing.

      “Seeing as you’re my girlfriend and all...”

      “Cool it, Colton.”

      “I’m just teasing.” He leaned over her and plucked a blade of grass out of her mussed hair, a reminder of the wrestling match.

      Bam.

      Just like that, blood pounded toward his cock.

      What was wrong with him? It must be the ride. Adrenaline always made him horny. That had to be it.

      He flicked the grass toward the sink and reached for the tub of coconut oil, unscrewed the top and sniffed.

      “Is it still good?”

      He passed it to her so she could do the same. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and took another. When she looked up, there was a guilty expression on her face. What was that about? She passed the tub back to him. “It needs to be heated.”

      With a raised brow, he took it and popped it into the small microwave oven. “How long?”

      “Not too long. Thirty seconds should do it.”

      He set the timer and then grinned at her. “You’ve done this before, I take it?”

      “Of course. I’m not a prude, you know.”

      “Never said you were.”

      Thirty seconds felt like three hours as Ashley avoided his gaze while they waited. She looked at the ceiling, the floor, the table, her fingernails, anywhere but at him. Finally, the bell rang, and he pulled the tub out of the oven and passed it to her. The scent of coconut pervaded the small space, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Ashley’s eyes fluttered closed as she took in another deep breath.

      Interesting.

      He eased past her and headed toward the back of the trailer and the door to the bedroom. It was a decent size for a trailer: queen-size bed with cupboards overhead and a built-in wardrobe in the corner. Dillon had used it while traveling the circuit, and Colton could see how it would be more comfortable than staying in crummy hotel rooms, town after town.

      “So, ah...” Ashley stood behind him, looking apprehensive.

      “You get comfortable, I’ll go change.”

      “Right.”

      “Good.” He moved past her, grazing her bare arms as he went. Sure the room was a decent size—for a trailer—but still close quarters with a woman you barely knew.

      Pausing by the door, he said, “Unless, of course, you care to help.”

      She shot him a cool look. “I’m good, thanks.”

      Colton didn’t realize he was smiling until he got to the tiny bathroom and saw his reflection in the mirror. Scrubbing a hand across his jaw did not remove his grin. Ah, hell. So he enjoyed teasing the woman. It wasn’t a crime to enjoy teasing the person who was using him as a gigolo. He was pretty sure in such situations teasing was mandatory.

      After hanging his hat on the back of the door, Colton stripped out of his shirt and jeans, hesitating for only a second before stepping out of his boxers, too. If this was a legit massage—which it was—then he’d be going in naked, like always.

      Wrapping the only towel in sight around his waist—a threadbare thing—Colton squeezed out of the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. Ashley was sitting primly on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, the tub of coconut oil open beside the bed.

      Her gaze flicked to his midsection and then up to his face. A tiny muscle twitched beside her mouth. “This is not professional.”

      “What do you mean?”

      Her gaze flicked down again.

      Colton glanced at himself.

      Jesus Christ.

      The thin towel did nothing to hide his raging hard-on.