“How great are my hands, Sydney?”
His calluses bit at her soft, pedicured flesh and she snagged her bottom lip with her teeth to staunch her moan. Even when he smoothed his fingers over her calves, encased in jeans, she experienced a potent reaction to his intense massage.
“Your hands are awesome. Still too low, in my opinion, but awesome.”
He shifted, kneeling flush against the couch so he could knead her thighs. He wedged his hips between her knees, bringing her eye-level with a bare chest still glistening from the heat. She took a deep breath and lost herself in the spicy male musk sizzling off his skin.
“How’s this?”
Sydney watched his gaze drop, watched the fascination intensify in his eyes, watched his mouth set in total concentration as he massaged her legs, his thumbs dipping lower and lower as his fingers worked their way higher and higher along her thighs—closer and closer to home. Every ounce of his attention was focused on his task, lulling her to complete relaxation.
He had one thing on his mind. And if that one thing was what Sydney suspected, she and Adam were about to have a very interesting afternoon.
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