Open a book, it's like starting an adventure. You never know in advance whether it will make you travel, cry, laugh or shudder...
Ouvrir un livre, c'est débuter une nouvelle aventure qui va vous faire voyager, rire, pleurer ou frisonner...
Today is my turn to host the Mine Blog Tour and I'm happy to let you have a peek inside this awesome story.
Here, enjoy an extract of MINE...
“Up on the table, Riptide,” I command. I just like ordering him around because he gives me this whatever look of amusement. Like he does now, like he’s supremely entertained by me. He lies down on the table, which is much like a massage table, at the center of the small room. Nearby there’s also a refrigerator, for meds and cold items which I’ll raid later for his ice massage.
He spreads face down first, and his body temp is so high after his workout, I can feel his heat before I even touch him.
“You feel okay?” I ask, caressing my gaze up the line of his spine. “Anything knot up? Bothering you?”
“I’d like to have my hands on you as soon as possible,” he whisper-growls at me, and I bite the inside of my cheek.
“Alright, but like they say, ladies first.”
He groans. “Don’t torture me, baby, I want to fuck you already.”
I bend over and set a kiss on his ear. “It’s not torture, try to relax,” I whisper, and I really want him to relax, focus on his body; I curl my fingers around his shoulders. The breath hisses out through his teeth, and I also quietly hold my own—but our contact does that to me. Exhaling softly, I acclimate to him and start massaging with my fingers. He also acclimates to me and I know he’s starting to relax when he groans softly.
We’re so connected, I can’t touch his skin without feeling delicious little ripples radiate through me. It sometimes feel as if I am tapping into that powerful source that makes Remington Tate Remington Tate. Every centimeter of my body becomes cognizant of his muscle and skin under my fingers—and of everything else about him. The way he smells right this second, of ocean and soap, and just him. The way his chest expands with his exertion. The way his hair is spiky and rumpled and wet.
I love working on him with my hands.
This is my job, but this is also my love.
I can’t think of anything better than this.
I feel each muscle, one at a time, seeking their heat, digging deep into the belly of the muscle so that there is perfect blood flow into every part of his body. I massage and separate the fascia, kneading the muscle tissue with my fingers to provide good nourishment to the area. When the muscle is loosened, his blood, ripe with every nutrient of his healthy way of living, enters to help repair and grow that muscle.
Once I’ve rubbed him down on both sides, I go to the fridge so I can give him an ice massage. Ice massages are perfect for any knot or injury, but Remington loves them, and I sometimes give him one to speed general recovery.
There’s a Styrofoam cup already in the freezer. It contains a frozen block of water inside, and I rub my palm over it several times, to smooth out the ice and make sure it won’t nick his skin. Then I run it all over his muscles while I hold the back of the cup, almost like I’m sliding roll-on deodorant over his skin.
He lays there and lets me tend him, his sexy male pheromones clinging to his skin like sweat, his body so hot, the ice immediately begins melting. I watch the rivulets of water zigzag playfully along his broad back, and when he flips over, those rivulets do the same down the front of his hard chest.
My eyes follow them while my brain swims with thoughts of licking each of them up with my tongue, especially the ones that slide into his belly button, the ones that curl around his nipples. While I watch and mentally lick every beautiful inch of him, he watches me work on him, his gaze hot and tender and, somehow, grateful.
“I love the way you work out,” I whisper.
“I love the way you work me.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!