Page 63 of Black Light: Cured

“I knew you didn’t respect what I did, but I never imagined you’d have such a vitriolic response

to me. You think we don’t have proof to back us up? Take a look at the International Journal of

Therapeutic Massage & Bodywork or the IJTMB if that’s too long to remember.”

Sighing, I once more move to cage her in between my arms, to stop this senseless fighting, but she

ducks underneath and races over to a small table lined with oils. Before I can say a word, she comes

back over to me and chucks the liquid out, splashing it all over my expensive suit and tie.

Lavender. The floral scent pours into the room and nearly chokes me.

“You’re far too tense for your own good,” she snaps out, flinging another dose on me. “You need

to lighten the fuck up and relax.”

The moment she’s done flinging that shit at me, her jaw drops as she looks at me in surprise, as if

she hadn’t planned on that happening.

“I’m sorry. I just—”

I don’t even let her finish the sentence before I grab her by the wrist and spin her, pinning her to

the door. Her pulse is frantic under my strong grip, mirroring my own. We both stare at each other, our

harsh breaths intermingling. It would be so easy to bend down and kiss those parted lips, to claim her

mouth like I want to claim her body.

Refraining, I lean down until my forehead rests on hers. “First of all,” I growl, resisting the urge

to smile as I feel her tremble beneath me. “I detest the smell of lavender.”

Her shaky laugh skitters down my spine exactly like I imagine her nails raking down my back

would feel. “That makes two of us. Just because I massage doesn’t mean I like the stuff.” Her nose

crinkles up as she turns her face away from my sprinkled shirt and tie. “I actually hate it too.”

That little admission brings a soft smile to my face as well as ideas for potential punishments.

Keeping my hand firmly around her wrist, I turn her in my grasp until her face is against the door and

my chest is against her back.

“Second of all,” I whisper into her ear, keeping my other hand planted next to her on the door so it

doesn’t wander to places it shouldn’t. “I’d rather wear your ass out as my form of stress relief.

Spanking you last night relaxed me in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Her body quivers underneath mine, and it takes every inch of willpower not to strip her then and

there and show her exactly how I feel about her, massage be damned. “And each night,” I continue,

pausing to slide my lips across the shell of her ear. “When I slide my hand around my cock to get