Feeling lighter only lasted for two days; it wasn't long before the stress of my deadline began creeping back into the corners of my mind. Cannon had been away for work since my talk with Jace, so we hadn't gotten to hang out at all, and I had to admit I missed his company. Jace had been busy with Matt and the Edmonds proposal, and even Meredith had been preoccupied with jewelry orders for her Etsy shop.
Not to mention that I can't shake the feeling that I need to tell Cannon what I really am and what being with me would actually entail sooner rather than later. And that scares me more than anything. If he runs away screaming, I don't know what the hell I'll do. Probably just go back to Infernis with my proverbial tail between my legs.
And I'm sore from my pitiful workout. What a loser.
I'm laying on the couch watching a rerun of a sitcom on cable when I hear the front door open and close. When I hear shoes kicked haphazardly into the floor, I grin because I know exactly who it is.
But I play it cool when he comes around the corner and drops his duffel bag in front of the kitchen counter.
"Hey, Cannon," I say, sitting up and looking at him from over the back of the couch, pushing my curls over my shoulder. "Did you have a good trip?"
"It was business, but I think I've finally got everything figured out. I won't have to take off for a while now." He eyes the way I'm hunched over, too afraid to straighten my aching muscles. "What's wrong with you? You are sitting like the old lady who was next to me on the bus. And I'm pretty sure she was like a hundred-and two-years old."
My face flushes and I lift one shoulder in a shrug. "I worked out the day before yesterday, so I'm a little sore from that."
He raises an eyebrow and sits next to me, pushing a strand of hair out of my face. "What did you do, a bunch of dead weights or pull ups?"
I twist my lips and shake my head. "No, I just got on the treadmill."
"Ah, ran a couple miles?"
A snort escapes the back of my throat. "Hardly. I just walked for a bit."
"Yeah, but if you had it on a steep incline, only walking for a bit can get really tiring."
"Incline...zero. I'm just really out of shape, my dude," I say with a sheepish grin.
He laughs at that, and when I give him the stink-eye, he sobers. "I've heard I give one mean massage. I'd be happy to offer my services for free."
I cock my head to the side and look him up and down. "Hm. That actually sounds really nice. And I have missed you. Did you miss me while you were gone, or were you too busy entertaining your female coworkers at the 'after-hours' meetings?" I tease.
"The last thing I was thinking about was my coworkers. My thoughts didn't stray far from this place." He stands and holds out his hand to me. "Come with me to my room, and I'll take care of you."
I lace my fingers with his and he grabs his bag before leading me to his room just down from mine. When he opens the door, I'm hit with the relaxing scent of lavender. He must have tidied his room before he left, and his bed is made nicely, the slate blue and white bedding neat and wrinkle-free. Several ivory candles are placed in various places, his dresser, nightstand and the windowsill. He turns on the essential oil diffuser next to his bed and chooses soothing music on his phone.
"I suggest taking off your shirt and at least, unhooking your bra. After that, make yourself comfortable on the bed," he says, opening his closet door.
My palm slaps against my mouth when I get a glimpse inside the small walk-in closet. It looks as if a tropical storm blew through it and knocked all his clothes off the hangers. Bags and boxes are scattered in the mix. His closet is my worst organization nightmare come to life.
A messy closet is something I could never tolerate for myself, but it's something that could be improved upon. It's not that big of a deal. Right? It's not like he's in dire need of professional help, just someone to teach him how to hang up his clothes, separate his clean and dirty laundry, line his shoes up, and throw away bags and boxes. I could live with this for eternity.
I turn away and manage to get myself together long enough to slip off my hoodie and tank top before looking down at my bra. Closing my eyes, I chew on my bottom lip before deciding...fuck it. Might as well go ahead and dive on in. I contort my arm behind my back and unhook my bra, letting it fall to the floor and lay face down on the bed, my cheek turned to the side so I can watch for Cannon to come out of his closet. I want to see his reaction when he sees I've taken off more clothes than he probably expected.
He steps out with a bottle of massage oil in his hands. Opening the top, he brings the purple container to his nose and stops short when his eyes fall on me. "You look comfortable," he says in a deep drawl.
I smile and raise up on my elbows, my curls falling over my shoulder and barely concealing my bare breasts. "You did say to get comfortable, didn't you? I was just trying to follow doctor's orders."
"This might be the most uncomfortable massage I ever give."
"Do you want me to put back on my bra?"
"No! I'm going to have an erection the entire time."
"Oh." I bury my face in the pillow and smile. It's a good feeling knowing that I have that effect on him.
Cannon pours the oil into his palms and rubs them together. "I'm going to straddle your thighs. Is that all right?"
I nod and say yes, but my voice is muffled into the pillow, so I lift my head and look over my shoulder at him, flashing him a grin. "Absolutely."
His eyebrows flick upward before he crawls over me and settles over my thighs, and the tenting of his pants against my skin is immediately noticeable. I'm glad I'm still wearing my leggings because the warmth I was feeling in my lower abdomen slides down and pools between my legs.
My issue has never been what Cannon looks like or the way he acts. I'm attracted to him. It is just those moments when we are intimate that don't quite draw the spark I hope for. Hopefully, this is a change for the better.
Cannon glides his slick hands over my aching muscles. His touch is firm yet gentle. It feels good as he works the tight knot in each of my shoulders, and I moan when his long fingers press into my lower back. His touch is exactly what my body needs, and its response is more than pleased.
I clench my thighs together and press my pelvis into the mattress. Every rotation of his fingers and stroke of his palms does something to me. My imagination runs wild with thoughts of him leaning in and kissing the back of my neck. I picture him grinding his hard length into the soft bump of my ass. I so badly want him to take this to the next level. I'm ready for him to move on from professional masseuse to the naughty type found in the short stories I sometimes read to spark my imagination and my libido.
He leans forward, his lips against my ear, and whispers, "Does that feel good?" The shift in his position causes the bulge in his pants to rub against my inner thigh and a whimper escapes me.
"Yes," I breathe. "It's perfect, Cannon." I look up at him from the corner of my eye. "But you can keep going..."
His lips move from my ear down the side of my neck, and his hands trail up my ribcage, his fingertips brushing the sides of my breasts, causing my whole body to break out into goosebumps. I hold my breath, waiting for the at spark to take hold, to light a fire in me that makes my entire body throb for more attention. I want him to take what he needs, giving me what I want.
Cannon kneads my lower back and kisses across my shoulders. His hips move behind me in shallow thrusts. It's timid, sweet, and so not what I need. I understand that he is polite and thoughtful. What I need is to know he is passionate, hungry, uncontrollably horny.
I know what I have to do if I want this to go the way I want it to—I have to take control. It's not what I want. I want to be dominated, told what to do, bossed around, for lack of a better word. But maybe I do need to show him instead of just expecting him to know. Because this isn't just about an orgasm; it's quite literally my entire life on the line here.
I have to try.
Without any warning, I flip over onto my back and bare my entire chest to him for the first time. "Cannon, I want you to touch me," I say with the authority of a princess. I surprise even myself.
He stares down at me with his eyes locked on my chest. I almost shy away from his scrutinizing gaze, questioning if I took this too far. I cover my breasts and move to wiggle out from under him, but his hand comes down on my shoulder.
"Don't. Don't cover yourself," he says, his words so thick they barely make it out of his throat.
I lower my arms and rest them on my stomach. "Are you sure? I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean to take it too far. I understand you may not have been ready for this yet. Don't feel like you have to do anything you don't want to do. I just—" I lift my hips toward his and his erection brushes against my pelvis. "I really want your hands on me."
He gazes at my chest for a second longer before lifting his gaze to mine. "I want to touch you, Desi."
"Good." I take his hand and drag it up my stomach to my breast, squeezing my fingers around his. He lowers his mouth to my other nipple and sucks. It's a pleasant sensation, the wet laps of his tongue and the suction of his lips. He continues to knead my other breast. Everything he does is enjoyable, and I am definitely turned on.
He's doing everything I've asked him to do. But I still don't have that feeling.
And it's not his fault.
It's me. I feel something for someone else that I just don't feel with him.
The moment Jace enters my brain, the throb between my legs intensifies and my nipples harden. The little coils in my abdomen tighten, and I know that all it will take is a few more moments of stimulation and I will come apart at Cannon's hand.
But thinking of Jace while being with Cannon feels so wrong. I force Jace from my brain and grip the back of Cannon's neck, bringing his face to mine. "Kiss me," I murmur, lifting my hips to his again.
His lips press to mine with the same tenderness he shows my body. The tip of his tongue sweeps over the seam of my mouth gently asking for permission inside. I grant it to him steer the kiss into something deeper, our tongues brushing over each other. And it is a really good kiss.
When I need to take a breath, I pull my lips from his and kiss the tip of his nose.
"I could do this all night," Cannon says, dropping his lips to my neck and peppering it with kisses.
I hum an agreeable sound and run my fingertips absently up the back of his shirt. Horrifyingly, a yawn slips through my lips. "Oh my God," I mutter, slapping my forehead with my free hand. "I'm sorry. Massages make me so sleepy. You really are so good at them. Now your kisses are so sweet they're lulling me into the coziest place."
He rolls off me and pulls me into his arms, and I rest my head on his chest. "I don't mind just holding you. It feels nice to have you in my arms."
"I like having you hold me. You make me feel safe."
"I'm glad you feel that way. I hope you know how much your friendship means to me. More than anything else, I want you to know I'm always here for you in whatever capacity you need."
I look up at him and say, "Now that you mention it, a friend is exactly what I needed the past couple of days after what happened with Jace."
His eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean, what happened with Jace?"
"Well, it's obvious that he and I had something going on for a minute...still not entirely sure what, but there was something there. In fact," I stop for a moment and take a deep breath before continuing, "I was starting to have real feelings for him. But he shut me down pretty hard the other night, and it stung. Bad."
"Did you talk to him about it? Jace is always reasonable."
"Yeah, we finally talked about it today, and everything is going to be okay. But I have to admit that I'm still a little bit hurt from it all, so I just wanted you to be aware of it. Just in case you don't want to get involved with me right now. You know I've always wanted to be really open with you about everything." Liar, the little voice inside me accuses. Not quite everything. You still haven't told him what you are.
"And I already told you that you're free to do what you want, Desi. We will be what we will be. I'm not trying to force it or hurry it along. And if it turns out to be nothing, that's fine with me as well. In the end, the most important thing is that we are still friends."
That's not so different from what Jace said to me, but when Cannon says it, it doesn't hurt; instead, it makes me feel like there's no pressure, no strings.
It makes me feel free.