Strong Silent Type(10)

By: Lorelei James


Inside the massage studio, chairs were lined up in front of a projection screen. All the seats but two were occupied.

Good Lord. They knew everyone in the room.

The owner of the hardware store and his wife held court in the front row. Dixie, proprietor of the Golden Boot, and her hubby of fifty years, sat next to Darnell Broken Nose, a board member of the Crow Agency and his wife, Leela. Libby expected Quinn to pull his ball cap down over his eyes out of embarrassment, but he nodded to the men and directed her to the two empty chairs.

Gorgeous, blonde and enormously pregnant AJ McKay stepped front and center. “Good to see everyone this afternoon. First we’ll watch a twenty-minute film on basics of massage and then we’ll get to the hands-on portion of the class.” She smiled. “If anyone has questions at any point, don’t hesitate to ask. And if you tend to be a little shy”—she looked directly at Quinn—“I’ll be happy to answer questions in private.”

The lights dimmed. The movie rolled. Libby expected soft-core porn or worse, a thinly disguised instruction manual, but the video struck a good balance between sensuality and the how-to aspects of massage.

After the video ended, Cord unfolded four padded tables and four six-foot high privacy screens, positioning one in each corner of the narrow room.

AJ walked through the maze, stacking towels, and draping sheets over each screen. “Next, I’ll demonstrate tricks and techniques on my guinea pig—I mean my helpful husband—before I turn you loose to experiment on your own.” She directed them to a massage room at the back of the building.

A shirtless Cord was stretched out on a padded table. AJ affectionately swept her hand up his spine. “You ready?”

Cord grinned over his shoulder and focused on the swell of her belly. “It’s obvious I’m always ready for you, baby doll.”

AJ dribbled oil on Cord’s naked back, but the look she leveled on him said she’d make him pay for that suggestive remark later, guaranteed.

Libby bit back a grin. The dynamics in the huge McKay family still fascinated her, even after being part of it for more than a decade. She got a huge kick out of how easily AJ led gruff Cord around by the nose.

The aroma of sandalwood and lemon filled the room. “First and foremost, there is a pronounced difference between giving your partner a sensual massage and a deep tissue massage.” She dug her thumbs into the base of Cord’s spine and followed the line up to his neck. “You don’t want to cause your partner any discomfort. The amount of pressure used isn’t as important as a strong and steady touch.”

In order to see AJ, Quinn leaned over Libby’s shoulder. Libby had a devil of a time focusing on AJ’s instructions when Quinn plastered his male hardness against her backside. Her blood raced. Her face heated. Her palms sweat. She’d be a horny basket case by the time Quinn actually put his hands on her.

“The other aspect of sensual massage is setting the mood. If you have children, you’ll want to plan this for when you have an hour of uninterrupted time. In most houses, the bed in the bedroom is the easiest place to set up. Music isn’t necessary, but I’ve found it can be both relaxing and arousing. Candles are good. They provide light, scent and ambience. Plain white cotton sheets are a smart choice. They can be warm or cool to the skin. And if you get carried away with the oil they’re easy to clean. But the single most important thing to bring is a positive attitude. Making your partner feel good shouldn’t be a chore. It should be a sensual enjoyment for both of you.”

When Quinn whispered, “Amen,” in Libby’s ear, a tremor of desire rippled through her.

AJ demonstrated a few more techniques and then dismissed everyone back to their areas.

“What do you suppose we’re gonna do now?” Libby asked when they were alone behind the partition.

Quinn held up a sheet with a cat-who-ate-the-mouse grin. “You’re supposed to strip.”

“Down to nothing?”

“What else does strip mean?”

“But all those people are out there—”

He eliminated the distance until they were a breath apart. “It’s just you and me. No one else matters.”

“You wouldn’t have a problem getting buck-ass nekkid with the family banker in the next cubicle?”

“Not if I knew it was gonna lead to you puttin’ your hands all over me. Damn, do I love havin’ your hands on me.”

When had closed-mouthed Quinn McKay become such a silver-tongued devil? “You don’t play fair.”

“Because I’m playin’ for keeps.” Quinn smooched her nose. “You want my help getting undressed?”

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