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KIM BALDWIN. Erin didn’t stop there, and Gable could not encourage her to
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Erin didn’t stop there, and Gable could not encourage her to. Once the pain was gone, she felt only a growing arousal.
Her skin was hypersensitive everywhere that Erin touched her.
She could feel the moisture building between her legs.
Erin pulled the blanket back farther, to massage Gable’s lower back.
Fingers danced enticingly along the very top of Gable’s ass, and she bit her lip to stif e a groan. God help me.
Erin’s hands worked their way along her sides, F ngertips barely touching the soft swell of her breasts where they lay pressed against the sheets.
Another soft moan escaped her lips. She prayed Erin hadn’t heard it.
It was forty-F ve minutes of sheer, sweet torture. Finally Erin pulled the blankets back up, and rested her hands momentarily on Gable’s shoulders. “All done. Don’t move for a minute. I’ll get your clothes.”
Somehow she spoke. “Thank you, Erin.”
“Any time. Be right back.”
Gable closed her eyes and took deep breaths, savoring the last moments of a most memorable massage.
Erin came back with her clothes, neatly folded, and set them on the edge of the bed. “Take your time getting up,” she said in a soft voice. “Slowly—so you don’t pull anything again.”
Gable swore she felt the lightest touch of Erin’s hands through her hair. But then she heard the door close, and she was alone again.
When she pulled back the blankets and reached for the clothes, she could smell the heady scent of her arousal, thick in the air. Uh-oh.
She was suddenly very glad they’d done this in Erin’s guest room, and not in the bed Erin slept in.
v
Erin fussed over her the rest of the afternoon and into the evening.
She got Gable comfortably ensconced on the couch and waited on her hand and foot, fetching drinks, a lap robe, and pillows for her back. While Gable surfed through TV channels, luxuriating in the unaccustomed pampering, Erin F xed them both a nice supper, topped off with a homemade cherry pie. Finally, at nine thirty, when Gable reluctantly announced she should be heading home, Erin insisted on
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FORCE OF NATURE
driving her, hoisting Gable’s bike into the back of the red pickup.
“Are you sure you can manage everything all right?” she asked later when they pulled up in front of Gable’s. “I can stay if you want me to.”
An offer Gable nobly ignored. “I’ll be F ne,” she said. “My back’s feeling a lot better.”
They got out and Erin hefted the bike out of the truck and wheeled it onto the porch, Gable falling into step beside her. “I want you to rest tomorrow. All day! No heavy lifting! And if you need anything, call me.”
“I will,” Gable promised.
“So do you think you’ll be able to go to the picnic Monday?”
“Oh sure. I’ll probably have to sit out some of the events, but I can certainly pitch in with the food and stuff.”
“I’d hate for you to miss it because you got hurt helping me out,”
Erin said.
“Would you stop apologizing already?”
They were face-to-face on the porch, lingering outside the door, as if both were reluctant to part company.
“Well, I better let you get inside and get some sleep,” Erin said, taking a step to plant a quick peck on Gable’s cheek. “Sorry you hurt your back. Sleep well. And do call me if you need anything at all.”
Gable nodded, relishing the unexpected, brief caress of Erin’s lips and the way it had seemed to warm her from within. “Drive safe, and I’ll see you Monday.”
v
Despite her sleep deprivation of late, Gable still had trouble dozing off that night. She lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling.
The massage had helped a lot, but her back was still bothering her and she couldn’t get comfortable. It didn’t help any that she couldn’t stop thinking about the way Erin touched her—delicate hands caressing her face, her stomach, her ass. Her imagination was fueled by the massage.
Now she had intimate knowledge of how it felt to have Erin really touch her.
She managed to doze off F nally at two a.m., and so was still asleep at nine when loud knocking at her front door awakened her. Erin! her hazy mind wished, still seduced by her dreams. Throwing on a robe,
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