Page 42 of Cold Foot King

“I can cook soup from a can, too. Are you even more attracted to me now?”

He belted out a laugh. “I can cook. We’re good.”

“Wait, can you really? That’s hot.”

“At least, I can cook if I can remember. It’s been a few years eating prison food. I spent most of it in solitary confinement, too.”

“Let me guess. Because of fighting?”

“Ding, ding, ding.”

“Monster.”

“You have no idea.” Oooh, the confidence his voice oozed. Why was it such a turn-on that he could handle himself in a fight?

Probably because only a battle-tested man would match her. He could understand the bloodlust, and the fight for control, and he wouldn’t be disgusted if he ever saw her lioness at war. The reason she felt comfortable talking about being the bad guy was that King had seen and done dark shit.

“Want me to massage your temples,” she asked, holding her fingers up like little guns.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He hesitated. “Okay, what do I do?”

“Lay your head in my lap, friend.”

“Friend,” he repeated as he maneuvered forward to give her room to slide under him with a pillow on her lap. “I don’t recall ever letting someone touch me like this, much less a friend, but you just go ahead and tell yourself whatever you like.”

“I also saw you showering today. I saw your back and your front. We will be elevated to best-friend status in no time.”

“You’re so weird,” he mumbled, but she put two fingers on each side of his head, right at his temples, and began a slow, rotating circular massage, and King groaned in ecstasy.

A smile confiscated her lips. Okay, this was awesome. He was noisy when something felt good.

She kept it up and watched as, muscle by muscle, his entire body relaxed. His eyes were closed, and his breathing had deepened, but still, she kept on. Eventually, she moved to his cheekbones, and then behind his ears, and down the sides of his neck. Next, she massaged the thick muscle of his chest and upper shoulders, and then moved back to his temples. He made the sexiest noises as she worked over his body, and she couldn’t help but think of how fun he would be in bed, now that they were out of the uncomfortable prison situation.

As minutes drifted by, she couldn’t help but feel powerful with his reaction to her touch. He was a huge, dominant, ferocious silverback to the outside world, but with her, he relaxed and let his guard down. Everything about him was attractive.

Eventually, he reached his arm back and rested his hand on her butt. It felt intimate, like a hug, and the fluttering sensation was back in her chest. Outside of this room, there was a competition for a place in Wreck’s Crew, but in here, it felt like the rest of the world and all its problems didn’t exist. After everything she’d been through, it felt like absolute peace.

The phone alarm startled her. Had it been an hour already?

King inhaled deep and looked up at her sleepily. “That feels so good,” he rumbled in a tired voice.

“Drink your water, and we’ll do another round.”

“Are you getting tired? Want me to do you?”

“Later. Right now we are working on you.”

His sleepy smile was so sexy. She reached for the water, and he drank the whole tumbler down as she set an alarm for another hour.

And they went on like that for hours.

He slept between water breaks, and she drifted into this heightened state of relaxation, taking care of his body until she was sleepy too. She started nodding off, and he caught her, looking up at her. Without a word, he pulled her down beside him, pulled the covers over them, and hugged her close to him, her back against his strong chest.

“You’re safe,” he rumbled against the back of her head. “Sleep.”