First Time With My Stepbrother Boxed Set: A Stepbrother Romance Bundle (First Time With My Stepbrother Boxed Sets Book 1) (3 page)

Maddie frowned. “How am I supposed to communicate with him?”

“I’ve printed Braille cards for him to give you, don’t worry.”

“You’re amazing.”

“Of course.” Greg let go her hand and headed for their adjoining door. “If all goes well, we’ll both have the time of our lives this evening!”

Greg wasn’t kidding about the masseur’s cologne. Even before he was a few steps into her room, she was assaulted by a nasal punch of patchoulis. It wasn’t unpleasant, but maybe it could be dialed back by half a bottle or so. She smiled in the masseur’s direction and breathed shallowly as a set of cards was placed into her fingers. The top one read, ‘I am Anton. I will be giving you your deep-tissue massage today. While you read these cards, I’ll set up the massage table. It will be five feet in front of your bed, running parallel to the foot.’

She smiled. So like Greg to make sure she could find her way without having to ask for help. The second card listed the oil options, from sweet almond, wintergreen, lavender and pure wheat germ oil—she opted for the latter. That would soften her skin, too. She pulled a band off her wrist and bundled her hair into a loose bun at the back to keep her hair clear of her neck and shoulders. Then she read the next card.

‘I have placed a towel gown on the bed to your right’, it said. ‘Please undress in your own time and I will tap you on the wrist when the table is ready. Please lie face down on the table with your arms to your side behind you. I will tap the soles of your feet when the massage is complete.’

Maddie looped the gown over her forearm and made her way to the bathroom, where she slipped out of her skinny jeans and top and stripped down to her panties. She felt a little shiver as the material brushed against her bare nipples as she pulled it on. Even as she tied the gown around her, she felt weirdly exposed. She found the wall switch for the fan and silenced it, putting her ear to the little crack of the bathroom door. Anton was busy setting up the main room—she heard the clink of bottles on a side table, grunts of effort and snaps of hinges as he fought with the fold-out massage table. She wondered if Anton was cute.

She closed her eyes and a flash of Greg’s twenty-two year old face appeared inside her lids. She didn’t
want
to know if Anton was cute, or even what he looked like. For now, he could be Greg.

She imagined Greg’s hands working across her body and gripped the doorjamb, breathing just that little bit too fast. She pushed out to the bedroom and found the cards on the quilt where she’d left them. She thumbed through to the oil choice card and showed it to Anton, who grunted acknowledgement. Hopefully there were some little diagrams showing which Braille instruction related to which scent. Anton tapped her wrist to let her know he was ready to start and offered his elbow over to the table. She smiled at him, but didn’t take it. She needed to be in control in her own room.

It helped that she’d been Greg’s guinea pig a few times while he was doing his initial sports massage training. She got herself easily into position on her knees on the table, slipped her gown off backwards and lowered herself until her face was in the little porthole in the headrest. She closed her eyes as Anton got busy with the draping, covering her from the small of her back to the backs of her knees with towels. The warmth was delicious. There was a click, and distant music began. It was soothing.

A trickle of warmth ran the length of her spine and it took serious control to suppress inappropriate noises as he smoothed the oil across her back in wide strokes of his palms.

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Rats, she’d forgotten he didn’t speak English. Poor guy probably felt he had to respond in some way if she spoke, so she stayed quiet a little while, floating with the music. He started with her hands and arms, kneading the tension out of her stick-bearing elbow. Then his thumbs worked over the knots of her spine and out across the back of her shoulders. His touch started light but became more purposeful as he worked his way down, pushing from her spine outwards with the sides of his thumbs. Each stroke gave her a cool-warm flush and when his entire palm swept down her sides on both left and right, his fingertips just brushed the sides of her breasts. The intimacy made her catch her breath.

Oh, do that again.

She stifled a groan as he repeated the swiping motion over and over, perhaps six times. She realized she’d parted her legs a little under the towel. She pulled her knees back together again, hoping he hadn’t noticed anything more than a wriggle. Her face grew hot in the enclosure of the headrest. And then he was circling with his fingertips on the incredibly sensitive skin below her armpits. His touch was too firm to tickle but too luscious to relax through and she tightened inside. Very gently, he took her wrists from behind and pulled her arms around and up to the top of her head rest. She overlapped her forearms and slowed her breathing but he kept up that circling stroke all the way down to her waist. It took everything she had to not part her legs again.

She imagined Greg stroking her like this. They’d be talking as he worked and then he’d climb up onto the table, a knee on either side of her back and reach his hands further beneath her with each stroke until he was cupping her breasts in his palms.She imagined him sliding her nipples between his fingers and her pussy gave a sharp, wet twitch. She
couldn’t
get aroused. Anton would hear her change of breathing and—worse—he’d smell her getting hot.

“Do you mind if I talk?” Her voice came out in a squeak that embarrassed her.

Anton finished her back massage and re-draped her towel, covering her back but exposing her panties and legs to the cool air in the room.

She was given a moment’s respite as he started work on her calves, kneading deeply into the muscles. The cool-warm flashes still hit her with every stroke, but as her legs were stiff, the initial ache took the edge off her arousal. She felt it was vital to keep talking as he moved up towards the back of her knees.

“
Don’t
tell your boss, but this is an incredible massage. The best I’ve ever had and… Greg does the best massages.” She stuck her thumb up in approval, wanting to show her appreciation in some tiny way.

Anton chuckled, but ‘Hmmm-hmmmed’ in exactly the same way he’d replied to everything else she’d said.

“You’re so totally lucky having him as a boss. He’s honest and strong and
such
a hard worker. He built his business up from the ground, you know? Seven years—that’s all it took from masseur to the boss of four centers. I’m so beyond proud of him,” she murmured as Anton’s hands slid over the backs of her knees and up onto her thighs. He had big hands, this guy, his thumbs pushing carefully into the tissue. Her pussy twitched again as he moved further north but she felt too limp and languid to care. If he was going to be
this
good at what he did, he’d better get used to turning his clients on while he was still a trainee. She let her mouth run away from her as a distraction from the urge to rock her hips onto the table beneath. She knew she was talking her head off but didn’t care. It wasn’t like he could repeat any of it ,anyway.

“You stay good at this and stay loyal, and Greg will take care of you like he takes care of everyone else. He’s already told me how damn good you are at this, but there’s no jealousy. He’s so generous, but he can be a handful… I remember once, he told one of his office staff that she was on the internet way too much on company time. Just because he’d been nice about it, she figured could keep doing it. So he downloaded a soundfile to her hard drive and she couldn’t open her browser without the ‘Criminal Minds’ theme blasting at top volume.” Maddie giggled, but a sudden, hard sweep right up her inner thighs made her exhale in a rush. Anton’s fingertips were almost at her panties. He dragged his palms back down again but she couldn’t help moaning with need. She was getting so turned on that even if he turned out to be some untrustworthy guy, she wasn’t sure she’d resist if he tried stroking her between her legs. The thought of it made her panties wet. He had to be nearly through by now. Another few minutes. Then she’d tip him, hit the shower, and get herself off.

Because she had to come at this point.
Had to.

Anton’s circling motions on the backs of her thighs made her eyes water.

Oh hell, just keep talking. He doesn’t understand any of it, anyway. Might as well get it off your chest…

“And this isn’t going to interest you one little bit but, oh, Greg is so gorgeous. I remember exactly what he looks like and he’s just gotten better with age. He lets me get so close it’s like handing my soul to him. I use any excuse to touch him—always have. If I haven’t… held hands with him or hugged him in a few days, I’m like a crabby… girl… who hasn’t gotten her… fix…”

Anton’s palms paused on the back of her knees and she got her breath back.

“When we camped out when we were younger, I’d always freak out about being alone, and he’d stay with me until I felt safe. Usually, he’d fall asleep with me. I could
really
draw out the drama, trust me.” She felt a little ashamed, remembering what Greg had said about her not crying so easily. She’d grown out of the habit of creating a drama because she didn’t want to abuse his trust. But at the height of her crush, she’d go to any lengths to touch him. “If it was a warm night, he’d strip down to his underwear and I’d run my hands over his body. And I mean…
all over
his body—cock and balls, the whole deal. I tried to keep the pressure light but feeling him get hard set me on fire. I had to put my hand down into my panties to touch myself because he turned me on so much.”

Maddie’s face lit up with heat as Anton patted the bottom of her feet, his signal he’d finished, and cleared his throat.

Wow. That was a serious over-share.

She giggled nervously. “Thank you, father, for hearing my confession.”

“You’re welcome.”

The voice was low and hoarse, but it was, without a doubt, Greg’s, and it pierced her like a blade between the shoulders. Her heart leapt up into her throat.

No wonder he’d worn so much fricking spray.

To disguise himself.

Total deception, from the one guy she totally trusted. Her face burning with mortification, Maddie tossed herself onto her back then sat bolt upright. “Greg?”

He laughed softly. “You and I have different memories of those ‘younger days.’ You really think I
slept
through that?”

She felt shaky, she was so angry. “What? You were… awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God,” Maddie choked.

“I don’t mean I didn’t want it! It felt so fucking good, but I had to lie there and take it! Do you know how hard that was?”

She’d been called on the one thing she’d done—over and over again—that she’d held to her heart as a huge, guilty secret. Touching her stepbrother. Intimately. Often. Getting herself off as he shifted his lithe body on the couch or the ground of a tent, unconsciously grinding his hips beneath her touch, his low moans vibrating through his chest. But the morning after, each time, he’d been the same old Greg with that easy affection she’d never had from any other guy, even before she lost her sight. The thought that he’d known about what she was doing…
every
time she’d done it… and never said so.