Until We Touch

Larissa knew the rest of the story. Taryn had been a junior PR person for the L.A. Stallions. When management found out that their star quarterback was getting a divorce, they did everything they could to make the situation easier. That meant firing Taryn so she wasn’t around to make Jack uncomfortable. Jack had protested. The last thing he’d wanted was for Taryn to lose her job. But the team had stood firm.

Not knowing how else to help, Jack had given Taryn the money to start her own firm. He’d been a silent partner and had thrown plenty of business her way. She’d thrived and had reached the point where she was going to buy him out when Kenny had taken that last hit. Jack had decided it was a good time to retire, as had Sam. Suddenly Jack and his friends had lots of free time on their hands. Then Jack had remembered he was half owner of a PR firm. They’d joined Score and the rest was history.

“I would love to have been a fly on the wall when Jack came to tell you he and Kenny and Sam were joining Score,” she said.

Taryn groaned. “There was a lot of swearing. I felt invaded and manipulated. I was not happy.”

“Still, it worked out.”

“It did. But you can’t tell Jack.”

Larissa chuckled. “I think he already knows.”

She wondered how things would have been different if there had been a baby. Imagining that made her chest tight, which was strange. Jack would be a good dad, she thought wistfully. Despite the fact that he pretended not to care, she knew things touched him deeply. His goal was to keep the world at bay and he mostly succeeded.

He’d lost so much already. His brother. After his brother’s death, his parents had gone away. Both physically and emotionally. Then his child with Taryn. She understood why he protected himself. She enabled that, she knew. Her causes became his causes. He could be a part of things without ever truly being touched by the circumstances.

They were a team. Maybe one that could do with a little therapy, but a team all the same. She counted on that. Needed it. As far as she was concerned, nothing was going to get in the way of their connection. Not her mother’s crazy statements or a kiss she still couldn’t quite explain.

CHAPTER FIVE

JACK HOVERED IN the hallway. Taryn’s massage had ended ten minutes ago and now it was his turn. He liked his turn. He liked knowing that in ninety minutes, his shoulder wouldn’t hurt and that he would sleep better that night because of it. He liked that he could completely relax because Larissa knew what she was doing and she always took care of him.

Except relaxing today seemed impossible. He and Larissa hadn’t spoken since that kiss. If he didn’t know better, he would say they’d been avoiding each other. Which meant they were going to have to talk now and he didn’t want to. Talking about kissing would remind him of the act, and going down that road was dangerous. Not to mention humiliating.

He was determined to keep things under control, so to speak. Which meant vigilance. He couldn’t allow his mind to wander. He had to stay focused on the pain. On staying ahead of his body. Because if he wasn’t careful, he would start to think about her hands on his body. Or worse, that damned kiss. And they all knew what would happen then.

The door opened and Taryn stepped out. She smiled at him. “Larissa’s on her A game today, big guy. Enjoy.”

He nodded and waited for her to walk past him. Then he started toward the half-open door, only to stop. He was naked, he thought suddenly. Buck-naked, except for the robe he would take off as soon as he got into the room. Naked and alone with a beautiful woman. Under what circumstances was that a good idea?

He swore under his breath. Why hadn’t they hired some guy to do the massages? It would have made all their lives easier, especially his. But it was too late now. Everyone liked Larissa and there was no way he wanted to replace her. It was just, dammit all to hell, why couldn’t he shut off his brain?

He walked purposefully toward the door and flung it open. Larissa looked up and smiled at him.

“You are not my last massage of the day,” she said. “A couple of days ago I was trying out some techniques on Dyna and she loved them. Now I get feline requests in the evening. I give her a kitty massage, then brush her. It’s becoming a ritual.”

Jack nodded because he couldn’t seem to speak. Had the massage table always looked so suggestive—with the top sheet pulled back? And what was up with the soft, sexy music? He glanced around the room, half looking for an escape, then told himself to suck it up. As long as he stayed focused, everything would be fine.

She looked at him, then away. Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “It doesn’t mean anything. It just happened. I’m going to ignore it and I think you should, too.”

At first he thought she meant his erection. While ignoring it made the most sense, a part of him felt a little snubbed. Only then he realized she was talking about the kiss.

The one that had rocked his world and left him hard for the rest of the night. Kissing Larissa had been an impulse—one he couldn’t regret. Not that he would repeat it. Because that led to yet another dangerous place.

“You’re right,” he said. “Ignoring it would be best.”

“Good. Then let’s get on with it.”

She politely turned her back, as she always did. He shrugged out of his robe and hung it on the back of the door, stepped out of his shower shoes, then walked to the table. He stared at it for a second.

“I want to start on my back,” he said.

“Sure.”

He figured he would have a better shot at staying in control during the first half of the massage, when he wasn’t so relaxed.

“I want you to really dig in on my shoulder.”

“Is it bothering you more than usual?”

“Yes,” he lied, hoping the pain she inflicted would help.

He got on the table, faceup, and draped the sheet over himself. Larissa moved next to him. She already had the moist pack out of the hot water. She draped it across his shoulder, then tucked it under. The warmth immediately went to work. He began to relax.

“Should I leave the sheet on or put on a towel?” she asked.

Because she always draped a towel across his groin, he thought. “The towel is fine.”

She crossed to the cabinet and pulled out a towel. He closed his eyes and thought about the last offensive play of the regular season game during the 2010 season. The Stallions had been on the twenty yard line with fifteen seconds left. They’d been down by three and—

She pulled off the sheet. Truly pulled it so that yards and yards of warm, soft linen rode against his penis. It was like silk, he thought, enjoying the sensation. Not as good as Larissa touching him, but still nice. What would make it better was if she was pulling it away to crawl in next to him. Then they would—

He swore silently and opened his eyes. Larissa draped the towel across him, then turned away. She pumped oil onto her hands, as if she hadn’t felt anything. Which she hadn’t, he reminded himself. He was the only idiot in the room.

He forced his brain back to the game, reliving the entire play. He’d thrown a perfect pass to Kenny who had caught it, scoring the winning points. As he remembered the elation of the moment, Larissa slid her hands across his chest.

She’d done it a thousand times before, to stay connected as she moved from one side to the other. It was normal and expected and not in the least bit sexy. The only problem was the light touch was just enough to get his blood pumping a little too fast.

No way, he thought, grinding his teeth together. He would not be controlled by his dick. He was a bigger man than that. Only thinking the word bigger wasn’t his smartest idea.

Sports, he thought frantically, as his blood heated and the familiar growing ache began. Ah, a game they’d lost. Right. Against Dallas. He’d been intercepted in the third quarter and it had all gone to shit after that. He relived the play and the subsequent disaster. It seemed to be enough to cool himself down. He breathed a little easier.

She massaged both arms. She would do his right shoulder before he turned over, so it made sense that her next move was his legs. She walked around the table and put her hands on his left thigh. As her thumbs dug in, her fingers slid along his skin and by the time she got to his knee, he was hard as steel. He had to give Larissa points. She never faltered in her work. Even though his dick formed a good-size tent in the towel. Heat burned in him—half from arousal, half from humiliation.

“I’m ignoring it,” he said at last.

“Me, too.”

He couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed like her voice was a little strangled. Humor or mortification? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know which.

She continued to work her way down his leg before circling the table and starting on his other leg. She half turned to reach the oil. As she moved, the towel got caught or something because he suddenly felt it sliding off. He opened his eyes and started to sit up. Instinctively he reached for it, just as she did the same. He grabbed and she stretched and their hands met, right on his erect penis, her hand trapped beneath his, his long, hard shaft below that.

For the first time ever, Jack got the real appeal of a “happy ending.” In that split second, all he could think was how much he wanted her to touch him there. With her hands or her mouth—he didn’t much care which. As long as they stopped before he came so he could please her as much and then they would finish the whole thing with some old-fashioned intercourse.

Which was not to be, he thought, instantly releasing her hand and half expecting her to jump back and shriek. She didn’t jump or yell, instead she studied him.

“If you want to go take care of that, I can wait,” she said.