GREY SWEATS
JESS
Luke guided me gently toward the bed, his large hand steady and sure across the small of my back. I followed without resistance, a faint heat rising in my cheeks as he pulled back the covers and gestured for me to lie down.
“On your back,” he murmured, his voice low, almost coaxing. I hesitated, clutching the towel wrapped snugly around me. Luke’s eyes softened, his fingers brushing against my arm réassuringly. “Trust me, babe.”
I sank onto the bed with a deep breath, letting the tension seep out of my body. Luke reached for a pillow and slid it beneath my knees, adjusting it until I felt perfectly supported. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands gliding over my ankle with a featherlight touch that sent a shiver up my spine.
“Relax,” he murmured, unscrewing the cap of the massage oil. The warm and calming scent of lavender and sandalwood filled the room. I closed my eyes, focusing on the soft flicker of candlelight behind my lids, the distant hum of night sounds outside the window, and the quiet creak of the bed beneath his weight.
His hands were warm as he began with my feet, the oil slick and soothing against my skin. At first, his touch was light, exploring, as though mapping out the areas that carried the most tension. Then, he pressed deeper, his thumbs kneading into my arches.
0.00%
11:54
I couldn’t hold back the small gasp that escaped when his thumb found a particular spot beneath the ball of my foot. A ripple of pleasure shot up my leg, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
Luke chuckled, a deep, rich sound that filled the room like a caress. “I knew you’d cave,” he teased, his grin audible in his voice.
“I didn’t cave,” I muttered, though the breathiness of my tone betrayed me.
“You did,” he countered, his grin now visible as I dared to peek at him through half–lidded eyes. The way he looked at me smug and entirely too self–assured–should have been infuriating, but all I could focus on was the feel of his hands working magic on my feet.
His fingers moved up to my calves, his touch firm yet careful as he kneaded the tight muscles there. My body surrendered to the blissful sensation, each stroke of his hands drawing out a sigh, a moan, a whispered “Luke.”
“Here?” he asked softly, his fingers finding another sensitive spot just beneath my knee.
I hummed in agreement, my body arching slightly as another wave of pleasure rolled through me. The sensations were overwhelming in the best way, each touch grounding me while setting my senses aflame.
“You’re tense,” he noted, his hands continuing their path up and down my calf in slow, deliberate strokes.
“No kidding,” I breathed, my voice a little shaky from the
11-54
intensity of his touch.
His laughter was softer this time, laced with something warmer. “I’ve got you,” he promised, his tone wrapping around me like the scent of the candles.
With every stroke of his hands, I felt the world’s weight melt away, replaced by the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence, and the growing heat between us. Luke didn’t rush or push; he let his hands speak for him, each movement reverent and intimate.
My mind quieted for the first time in weeks, and all I could focus on was him.
This moment.
Us.
Luke’s hands trailed higher, his fingers working their way over my thighs with the same deliberate care that had me melting into the bed. My thighs, tender from too much walking lately and not nearly enough jogging, ached under his touch.
“Shit. Luke – I just remembered I couldn’t shave because…” I mumbled, but Luke shushed me. I don’t care, babe. Relax.”
But that ache didn’t stand a chance against the warmth of his hands and the way he seemed to know exactly where to press to ease the tension.
“Hmm,” I hummed, closing my eyes as his fingers kneaded a particularly tight spot. I felt a twinge of self–consciousness for not keeping up with my old routines, but Luke didn’t seem to care. His touch was steady and focused, as though he saw
46.98%
11.54 m
nothing but the need to make me feel good.
Then his hands paused, lingering a little longer at the curve of my thighs, I cracked an eye open to see him no longer sitting but standing next to the bed. His gaze burned, tracing every inch of me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sounding a little too breathy for my liking.
Luke didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head, studying me with that maddening, unreadable expression of his. Finally, he smirked, his lips twitching with.amusement, and I knew what he was waiting for.
I rolled my eyes, slapping an arm dramatically across my forehead. “Nice sweats,” I said, refusing to look directly at him because I already knew.
“Yeah?” he replied, his voice full of that infuriating confidence.
“Yeah,” I muttered, still not daring to glance.
But curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked from beneath my arm. Sure enough, his grey sweatpants were tented in a place that was very, very hard to miss.
“Subtle,” I quipped, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt.
Luke didn’t flinch. His smirk widened into a full grin, one that was cocky enough to make my cheeks burn. “Just being honest,” he replied, his voice low and teasing.
I groaned, half out of embarrassment, half because my body
11:54
was doing absolutely nothing to help me resist him. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re beautiful,” he shot back without missing a beat.
That simple statement, delivered with so much sincerity, left me speechless. My heart raced as he leaned down, his hand brushing against my cheek.
“Now,” he murmured, his voice softer, teasing, melting into something deeper. “Are you going to let me finish what I started, or are you just going to keep complaining abo
