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AIDEN
I watch as Cassidy leaves the room, head held high despite the heaviness of the conversation we just had. I am entirely fascinated by Cassidy’s many layers. There’s so much to this woman, and I feel like I’ve only scratched the surface. She buries her emotions so deep. It’s a wonder she has any relationships. They’re likely few and far between, as the wall she’s erected appears to be fortified by stone.
What did her parents do to her? It was clear there’s bad blood there.
It makes me think about my own past, and my stomach sours.
Whatever I can do to help Cassidy realize her dreams, I’ll do it.
Why?
Because she’s been a lifesaver in the short time I’ve known her.
Because she deserves it.
Because she makes me think of—I shake my head. Nope. That’s ridiculous.
I go about my nightly rituals, cleaning the kitchen, but this time, I don’t linger as long in the room. I do a quick clean before heading into the living room to prepare to watch the film.
Within moments, Cassidy stands in front of me, brow furrowed. “You’re done in the kitchen already?”
“Yep.”
“Are you okay?”
“I am.” I smile.
Her eyes narrow, clearly confused by how fast I cleaned the room. So am I.
She walks to the back of the couch, hovering back there, for what, I’m not sure.
Then her hands rest on my shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want a massage?”
“I’m fine. And that’s not your job.”
“It’ll help.”
She has a point, but as my assistant, isn’t massaging crossing the line?
She waits for my signal of what to do, and on a resigned sigh, I lift my right hand, and with that, the massage commences.
I groan at the way her knuckles knead my aching muscles. For not being a licensed massage therapist, this woman does it expertly. Her touch removes all of my worries and the need to organize or sort. I’m able to relax and melt into the couch.
I start the footage, and admittedly can’t even focus. My concentration is solely on the way her nimble fingers move across my shoulders and down my back. My cock hardens, and I shift slightly to hide my reaction to her touch.
I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, and I don’t want her to think that this is not appreciated.
I shake off the thought. Allowing myself to unwind.
When she’s done kneading my tight muscles, Cassidy taps my shoulders.
If I need something, she attends to it so I can focus. Tonight, it doesn’t feel right to order her around.
“You’re off duty starting now,” I say as she looks at me.
Her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t speak. I pat the spot next to me on the couch.
“Let’s watch a movie instead.”
