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  “Are you doing okay?” Kathryn’s knitted brow and observing eyes work as a truth serum. “You’ve worked like a machine all week. No sleep.”

  There is only one person who could have told Kathryn about my lack of sleep since I had intentionally kept it from her to avoid any worry. “Mrs. Carter,” she says, confirming my hunch.

  “Is that right?” I laugh. “What other secrets did Mrs. Carter share?”

  “This whole billionaire thing is a ruse, and you’re really a spy like James Bond.” She punches my shoulder hard. I retaliate by beginning to tickle her. My mother coined the term hickle, which means a hugging tickle. Kathryn gets lost in a fit of giggles as I play along her sensitive ribs like a piano.

  “Stop. It. Adam!” She squirms against me, causing my dick to stir and salute. My innocent hickling appears to have backfired since I’m experiencing the torture, too.

  “Okay, but only because you’re making me as hard as a rock.” She quits moving that sweet ass but places a hand over my crotch

  “Just checking,” she explains with a shrug, and I quietly moan when her hand presses against me.

  “I haven’t given another person a hickle since my childhood.” I stroke her sides, grazing the outside of her breasts.

  “A ‘hickle’?” She places her hand on the side of her neck.

  “Not a hickey.” I smirk, although the thought of marking her is tempting. “It’s a term my mother used when she combined her hugs with a tickle.”

  Kathryn moves on my lap to straddle me so we’re face-to-face. “Oh, Adam. That’s so sweet.” She runs her hands along my jaw to the back of my head, twisting and pulling my hair around her fingers. I love it, so I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation. I’m relaxed and sated; there is nothing more in this moment I need than Kathryn. I have to fight my exhaustion because if she keeps this up, I’ll be asleep in no time.

  “You know what you just did?” she asks. I open my eyes and gaze at her even though my lids feel as if they weigh ten pounds. “You shared something with me that had to do with your mother. A memory surfaced, and you let yourself enjoy it. When was the last time that happened?”

  I scan through my memory and come up empty, with the exception of an event a few days ago.

  “Last weekend, when I held my mother’s photo. It’s the only time over the last ten years I’ve allowed myself to remember the good times. And there were many.”

  “Of course there were. Having them pop up like this one did is good.” She bends down and kisses me but pulls away before I can take it further. I wanted more. I always want more.

  “Thank you, baby,” I murmur.

  I’m not feeling tearful, only grateful to her since she’s the one who’s helped me face the past I’d stuffed away. Grateful she’s in my life. Grateful I can go back to my childhood memories and... feel. The emotional novocaine that hindered me has worn off. The numbness is gone, and I hug her to my chest. In a short time, she has brought me back to life. Kathryn hugs me back, soothing us both as she rocks me.

  After a few minutes, she sits up, rises to her feet, and holds out a hand. “Come with me. You need to rest, and I planned a little something to help you get a good night sleep.”

  “Lead the way, beautiful.”

  My body aches, and my legs feel like dead weight. Nothing stops me from following Kathryn’s beaconing smile.

  We stop at her office, or my term for it, her harem tent. Kathryn stands in the doorway.

  “I think you’re too tired tonight. It’s best if I give you a massage in bed. I’m bending the rules, but once I’m finished, you may be too tired to move.”

  “Damn, what kind of massage is this?”

  She releases my hand and trails her fingers up my arm, pressing gently into my flesh.

  “The kind of massage that will leave you spent. Especially in your condition.” She steps closer to me when she speaks. “Head to my bedroom. Let me get a couple things, and I’ll meet you there. And get undressed.” She reaches up and kisses me, and then traces my jawline with her lips from a tender spot under my ear to the tip of my chin.

  I dutifully obey her commands and shuffle off to her room. I begin taking my clothes off on my way. In her room, I toss my shirt on the bench at the end of her bed. I rid myself of everything but my boxer-briefs and turn around when she waltzes into the room, carrying two items. A candle and a small bottle of oil.

  Kathryn sets her treasures on the nightstand. She flings back the cover and top sheet from the bed and throws them onto the floor. For a petite woman, her strength can’t be denied. She packs power in her curves.

  “Lie down on the middle of the bed.” She runs her finger under the elastic waistband of my briefs, her sexy assertiveness making my cock twitch. “And take off everything.”

  I peel them off and climb on the bed as ordered. The second my back hits the bed, I sink down into the soft sheets and close my eyes. If left alone for two seconds, I might be out for the night. The thought of missing out on her massage forces me to open my eyes as wide as they will go. I’ll be damned if I’m going to fall asleep before her massage.

  “Good.” I hear her approval before I see her standing by the bed. Her clothes are gone, and the La Perla lingerie I purchased adorns her body.

  “Holy fuck,” I mutter. The deep blue lace matches her eyes. The contrast of the dark shade and her pale, luminous skin arouses me, and I find myself itching to caress her body. “Join me, beautiful. You look good enough to eat.”

  A devilish smile spreads across her face, mirroring mine. My arousal stands at attention with the hope of what’s to come.

  “Lift up your head.” She rests a pillow underneath me. “Bra on or off for this?”

  “What kind of question is that?” She chuckles at my reply and toys with the straps before finally letting them fall down her arms. “Seriously, you look as sexy as hell, but I’d rather have you bare.”

  “Fine.” Kathryn maintains eye contact while removing her undergarments. “In the end, most men prefer lingerie on the floor.”

  She winks and sashays back to the bed; her tits bounce as her hips sway. Without a thought, I wrap my hand around my cock.

  “Hold on.” She eyes me as I try to curb my need. “Hands at your sides and relax. You need patience. Tantric training rule number one.”

  I slap my hands down to my side and follow her every whim. “Such a spoiled man.” She waves her finger at me in warning and then leans over the nightstand. A red votive candle sits inside a clear glass tumbler. She picks up the lighter next to it and lights the candle. The flickering flame grows tall and a stream of smoke rises.

  “I’m trying to be patient but you’re a fucking goddess, and as you can see...” I say while directing my gaze down to my raging erection. “I’m having a hell of a time.”

  She places her finger over my mouth. “Hush. Please, relax.”

  Kathryn sits next to me on the bed. I inch my hand toward her hip and steal a touch of her skin. “You really have trouble following directions, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I concede while lowering my eyes. I quickly return my gaze to hers. “With you naked before me and my dick eager to be buried inside you, I have no control.” I let my fingers ease over her hips toward her sex. But she catches on fast and places her hand over mine.

  “You’re incorrigible.” Her reprimand precedes her sweet laugh, and she stills my hands. “Let me wash away the week.”

  “I’m all yours.” Truer words have never been spoken. As much as I want to possess her, the evidence speaks for itself. She owns me completely.

  Kathryn kneels next to me on the bed and takes the bottle of oil off the nightstand. She raises the bottle above me and tips it so that a thin stream of oil flows from the opening. She dribbles the oil down one arm and then another. Next she zigzags the liquid across my abs while being careful of my stitches.

  “How’s the injury?”

  “Forgotten.” I hate lying to her, but truthfully,
the shooting still haunts me. The few hours of sleep I’ve had this week have been disturbed by troubling dreams where Simon is very much alive and taunting me.

  “Not buying it.” She shakes her head at me. “But for now, it’s my mission to erase everything from your mind.”

  Kathryn continues trickling a path of oil down my legs. As I look down, every area of my body glistens, with the exception of my cock. The damn thing feels needy and lonely.

  “I want to see your reactions and you to see mine. So make eye contact with me as much as possible. Keep your hands at your sides, but unlike our coin fun, keep your muscles relaxed.”

  I nod because not agreeing to this is laughable, and she runs her hands up my arms, rubbing the oil into my skin.

  Our eyes stay connected, and I love how her entire body moves up and down in sync with her hands. She puts her all into the massage. Straddling my waist, she brings her hands to the top of my shoulders, and spreads her fingers over them. My muscles turn to putty under her touch. After she spends several minutes working and digging, the built-up tension leaves me.

  “That feels wonderful,” I moan and she answers with a brilliant smile. “Your fingers are magical.”

  Continuing over my chest, her hands flutter down my abs. My breath hitches when Kathryn pushes herself over my straining dick. Instead of pressing against me, she lays her body entirely over mine.

  Body to body, the oil covering me now rubs all over her. She gently slides up and down the length of me in sensuous movements. Her eyes are on fire, burning away any other cares I have in the world.

  She travels along my body, her glorious tits rubbing delicately against my chest. It takes everything I have to not touch her because it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. The view of her sliding over me... well, I’ve never imagined anything like this in my wildest dreams. And I’ve had some pretty fucking wild dreams.

  Now that her body is slick, she maneuvers her legs between mine and pushes them apart. She sits up on her knees and drags her oiled-covered hands over my legs. Starting at the top of my feet and then moving to the sides of my calves, she spreads the oil. I want to close my eyes and absorb the feeling, but not watching this beautiful woman in action would be a crime.

  Stopping to massage my thighs, Kathryn kneads the muscle with the heels of her palms to release any tension. Right now, I’m so loose; I could melt into the sheets.

  After a couple more rounds from my feet to thighs, she pauses at the side of my hips. I glance down at her lingering touch, and she tsk-tsk at me for breaking eye contact. Her lips turned up in a slow smile. She is clearly in control here.

  I lie still in surrender, giving her free rein. After managing all the issues and carrying the burdens of my company this week, it feels good to just fucking let go.

  “You’re finally starting to relax,” she says, showing that she has once again read my body.

  “Yes,” I mumble because even my jaw appears to be on shutdown.

  “Good. Now, you’re ready for the fun part of the lingam massage.” There is a hint of mischief in her eyes She’s fully aware I have no fucking idea what she means. She takes the oil bottle from the nightstand and pours more into her hands.

  “No clue, baby.” My voice slurs as I force my slack jaw to move.

  “That’s tantric for lingam or penis massage.” That got my slack jaw moving in response.

  “I thought you might like that.” She chuckles while I nod eagerly.

  Scooting closer to me, but still between my legs, Kathryn crisscrosses her legs and lifts mine to rest over hers. Her shins are touching the backs of my thighs and my ass. This position leaves my cock and balls vulnerable to her as if they’re being served on a silver platter.

  The process begins with long strokes up my thighs that end at my waist. She’s careful to miss my stitches, ending her ministrations just below them.

  “Adam.”

  “Yes?” My voice is nothing but a whisper.

  “Look into my eyes.” I comply. “And breathe a little deeper.” I begin to exaggerate each intake and exhale, hoping to meet her approval. “Yes, like that. I’m going to mirror you.”

  As I inhale, Kathryn exhales. A complementary rhythm continues as her hands explore me, inching closer to my length.

  “My touches are an act of devotion,” she explains. What does that really mean? Devotion of my cock? “This is more than sex. Tantra defines my gentle touch as honoring you and your body.”

  “I’m fully in, beautiful,” I rasp as her hands wander over my skin.

  Our breathing mimics each other's once again, her hands moving closer to where I need them. I feel them near my balls, and my cock twitches.

  “Oh God.” My moan betrays my impatience.

  “This will not be quick. So relax and enjoy.” The twinkle in her eye makes me hope I survive.

  Kathryn never looks down at her fingers. They move on their own, knowing and searching me. She centers on the area below my balls and inner thighs. Although her touch is sensual, it feels like more than just sex. I can tell she wants me to feel something more. I think it’s the honor part she mentioned.

  While pressing her thumbs in the sensitive area below my balls, her other fingers extend over my sac, caressing and fondling me. There is no hurry, just Kathryn giving me pleasure. She doesn’t bring her touch directly to my cock, but rather returns to my inner thighs and repeats her motions all over again. And again. Occasionally, skimming my erection as her fingers manipulate me.

  I want to move so badly, and I can’t stop myself when I do. My hips start making tiny pulses toward her. Not quite thrusts, but forward movements, in hopes of hurrying her along. Finally she does what I’m desperate for—she encircles my erection.

  One hand starts at the base and rises to the head, followed by the other. My muscles tighten and a release builds from deep inside of me, making me quake.

  “Not yet,” Kathryn tells me. I want to believe her voice was my imagination. But when she removes her hands from around me and starts her manipulations all over again, I know the words spoken were hers.

  “Fuck!” I cry, hoping for mercy, but she denies me and continues on.

  “Pleasure will build and plateau. Then build again.”

  My body fights within itself. I’m in the crosshairs between pleasurable relaxation and physical exhaustion. A toxic mix like I’ve never experienced before. Determined to survive at the hands of this siren, I steel myself to focus on the pleasure.

  On the third or fourth cycle of her tantric massage—hell, I’ve lost count—I begin to understand what she said about plateaus. It’s as if she’s making me climb a sexual staircase, taking me upward, floor by floor, with the true destination somewhere above me.

  Even though I’m flat against the bed, a part of me reaches for something, seeking a higher place. The whole fucking experience is a rush. It’s not the emotional high from our first tantric time, but a sensory high.

  “Floating yet?” Her question startles me back to reality. Floating describes everything I’m feeling. I nod because speaking would require too much of me at the moment.

  “Good.” She sounds pleased. “Close your eyes. Imagine this bed is a pool of water and you’re floating in the warmth of the sun.”

  Closing my eyes, I feel as if I’m propped up, buoyant and relaxed beyond measure. Once again she starts a pattern, but this time she’s more determined and leads me on without a pause.

  Tremors start in my legs. I blink quickly to see her look of satisfaction. Without speaking, her hands strokes harder, firmer, and unrelenting.

  Fucking finally...

  “Close those eyes now.” Her voice weaves through me as I follow her directions.

  Higher and higher, I chase my release in my mind. With my body shaking, every thought and feeling converges on my cock as she works me with her hands.

  The buildup gathers inside me, pulling its strength from each cell like the reverse of a bomb exploding outward be
cause all my energy pools together. As I feel myself reaching toward some violent release, Kathryn calls me back.

  “Adam, Adam,” she pleads, but I’m unable or more likely unwilling to respond. “Open your eyes if you can.”

  The second I flash my eyes open, she wraps her soft lips around the head of my cock. All the sensations collide together as she sucks me until I explode.

  “Fuck!” I shout, arching my back and hitting the back of her throat. She swallows around me.

  Spasm after spasm rattles me until I collapse. She lifts her head and releases me from her hot, wet mouth.

  “Never...” The word lazily falls from my tongue. I can’t speak anything else yet. Hell, I don’t even know my own fucking name.

  “Never… experienced an orgasm like that, right?” She guesses correctly with a smug smile. Not only is this woman quickly becoming my world, she’s finishing my sentences, too.

  I can’t even move my limbs. The week’s exhaustion I’ve held at bay can’t be stopped and I close my eyes. She pulls the covers from the floor over us and cuddles up next to me.

  “Sleep, Adam. Sleep.” I fall into a welcoming abyss before the sounds of her voice disappear.

  Chapter 11

  I’m ripped from my sleep from a nightmare fresh in my mind. Another dream about Simon. Sitting up in bed, the covers fall into my lap. I gaze at the woman lying next to me. Kathryn doesn’t stir from her slumber as I throw my legs over the side of the bed and walk to the windows. The pre-dawn view of Central Park looks so peaceful, the only ounce of serenity inside this beast of a city called New York. A shiver runs through me, the dream chasing me even now that I’m fully awake. I stretch my neck and roll my head, hoping to God all the tension from the week hasn’t found its way back to me, but it’s a stupid thought because it has.

  “Dammit,” I say under my breath and run my fingers through my hair. My mind keeps taking me back to the shooting. Even in my waking hours, I can’t seem to escape it. I relive the shooting even in my stray thoughts. Like a scary flashback when I least expect it. During a conference call yesterday with our division in London, I swore I heard Simon’s maniacal laughter. I shut the call down without giving an explanation. I probably upset the London crew, but I didn’t care. I needed to escape, much like I do now.