Distracted √

Distracted: Chapter Seventeen

"Okay, its Day Three in Pennsylvania and we really have to get some work done," Erin said. She flipped open her laptop and plugged it into the nearest outlet. Booting her computer, she clicked on the word processing icon. She typed a heading then waited for Spence.

He lolled on the sofa bed, his hair wet from their late morning swim. They spent the night at the cabin and made love twice, then again in the lake that morning.

"We've only got a bare-bones outline and a few raggedy-ass chapters. We have to move on. Patricia is going to fire me if I can't get you motivated."

"Erin, I don't have time to write a book; I'm too busy slaking my editor's lust."

She blushed and tossed a cinnamon bun at his head. He caught it and took a bite.

"Lord, if you would only work as hard on this book as you do making excuses."

"Let's make a deal: You give me a massage and I'll work steady for one hour." He rolled over, crossed his arms under his chin and winked at her. His hair, tousled with streaks of brown and red, shone like gold in the morning sun. His smile, white teeth against his tanned face, took her breath away. Does he know how beautiful he is, she wondered. Dazzled, she stood and walked over to the sofa bed. She stumbled over the covers, kicked off the night before.

"Ooof," she gasped as she fell against the arm of the sofa.

"Easy, easy," he drawled, stretching out an arm to help her up. "Don't injure yourself. I really need this massage."

She picked up the vial of lotion they had experimented with hours earlier and squirted some into her palm. She rubbed her hands together to warm the cream. Then, straddling his hips, she leaned over and began working her fingers into his muscled upper arms. "I like my men strong."

"Mm hmm," he replied.

She put more lotion in her hands and then, impishly, squirted a zigzag on his back. She kneaded his shoulders and pressed her thumb into a knot.

"Ow. That hurts!"

"It's supposed to. It's a trigger point. I press hard and it releases. That means the muscle relaxes."

"Where'd you learn that?"

"I worked one summer at Peachy's Chiropractic Clinic. Jimmy Peachy's a doctor."

"Chiropractors aren't doctors."

"Of course they are."

"Whatever."

Spence relaxed under Erin's care, and soon he was snoring. She tweaked his nose. "Hey, wake up. You promised to work for an hour."

He sat reluctantly, and started unbuttoning her shirt. "Your turn."

"I don't need a massage."

"Oh yes you do." He unclasped her bra, the straps falling off her shoulders. As she reached for her straps to pull it back on, Spence caught her wrists and tucked both of them behind her back.

"Fine, keep your shirt on," he said as he pushed the sleeves down her arms.

"Let go of me you galoot."

"In a minute," he said, tweaking her nose.

Erin leaned back, watching him mistrustfully. Her hands were pinned behind her and his added weight kept them there. Spence held the tube over her and squeezed. A line of cucumber lotion flowed onto her skin. She sucked her breath at the cold and her belly danced. He drew lines and symbols across her breasts, circling her nipples. Dots and dashes marched up her neck and out her collar bones.