okay,” he returned easily, his movements relaxed despite the soaring temperature of his skin. “I’m finding your workshop informative too.”
And without another word, his white cotton dress shirt slithered off his shoulders, leaving Jessica facing the bronzed expanse of wide shoulders and taut sinew. From somewhere in the room, a dreamy feminine sigh seemed to encapsulate her thoughts completely.
“Maybe a little massage oil?” Ingrid said, passing her a bottle of vanilla honeysuckle blend. “It highlights the muscle groups, you know.”
The wicked grin on the woman’s face assured Jessica she was loving every second of class so far. Just what she wanted.
Working up her courage, she squirted some oil between her palms and rubbed them together for warmth. The scent filled the air as she lifted her hands to touch him again. Forcing her fingers onto his back, she braced herself for the electric shock all over again.
This time, her breasts ached and her breath caught. Her heart pounded so hard she feared the whole class would see the palpitations given that her camisole didn’t exactly provide extensive coverage.
“This is the friction touch.” She demonstrated briefly to minimize the sweet torment of caressing him. “And now we’ll learn the vibration touch.”
Scavenging up her autopilot teaching mode to take over, Jessica’s lips moved, spouting out her lesson. But in her head, she continued to linger on the idea of a vibration touch.
Never in her life had she found a need for the battery-operated toys some women used to find pleasure. But after tonight, she would seriously investigate the options ASAP. Something about touching Rocco Easton had made her realize she would need to find a way to take the sexual edge off her thoughts or she might never think straight again.
WARDING OFF pleasure—surprisingly—wasn’t all that different from warding off pain. Rocco had to mentally travel somewhere else in order to withstand the experience, his body growing more and more susceptible to its physical reactions.
Jessica’s hands proved as seductive as her charm had been to his father. Rocco fell deeper under their spell the longer she talked, the longer she worked her lubricated fingers over his skin. Interestingly, the seduction didn’t come from her obvious assets. She didn’t employ the more expected female tactics, like brushing her half-bared breasts against his back. Instead, she simply followed the guidelines she had set out in her workshop, using her professed techniques to the letter.
There was, he thought, something honest in that at least. And he had to believe he hadn’t abandoned his mission despite the way he’d allowed himself to come into such intimate contact with his investigative subject tonight. No matter what Jessica’s financial picture might be, he believed she sincerely embraced the principles she taught in this workshop by the way she kept the class on track.
Not once in the half hour—he glanced at the clock—no, forty-five minutes that he’d been here had Jessica rested her fingers or deviated from what he suspected was a well-rehearsed lecture. She gave her students more information than they’d ever retain.
“Ladies, this is a good touch to use on a man’s inner thigh.” Jessica’s words suddenly blasted their way into his consciousness, wrenching him back to the moment before he could steel himself for the impact.
A couple of the lecture attendees asked her some follow-up questions about that statement, but Rocco’s brain kept envisioning Jessica applying her skillful hands to his thighs. She touched him with light surface caresses in a quick, upward movement. What would that feel like if she transplanted it somewhere more overtly sexual?
Rocco was thankful for his foresight in putting his shirt on his lap after he removed it, as his blood surged south like a rogue wave.
“What do you think, Rocco?” Jessica leaned down into his field of vision, half-bending around his shoulders to make eye contact. “The question was—which touch did you find most effective for relaxation and which for erotic purposes?”
For a minute, the words sounded like Greek, since the only language he wanted to speak was physical. He was more interested in making this woman sigh with pleasure and call out his name. He wanted to see how fast he could get her naked and have her splayed on the chaise underneath him.
Except that he wasn’t here to sleep with her. He was here to investigate Jessica’s character. Test the legitimacy of her business and see if it seemed to generate enough income to finance her automobile. Too bad he was too freaking distracted by the raging erection he sported to comprehend much about her other than the fact that she turned him on.
“The first touches were the most relaxing.” Either that or he’d had more control early in the evening. “I think the styles of massage increased in, uh—firepower—as we went. Perhaps Jessica designed the program that way intentionally.”
“And what about the scent?” another student pressed.
“How did vanilla honeysuckle strike you?”
Like a freaking thunderbolt?
“Good.” He nodded. “Definitely a good scent.”
He looked to Jessica mostly to take some of the class scrutiny off of him. He’d never been this publicly aroused. The only time he’d been close, he’d marched his date out of the bar to take her home with him. That didn’t seem like an option now.
“Where’s everyone going?” He blinked his way through his turned-on state as he noticed two of the women disappearing into the connected suite.
“We’ve finished the erotic-massage portion of the retreat.” Jessica’s hand slowed on his back, her fingernails scratching lightly over his skin before coming to rest in the center of his shoulders. “A few of the women had dinner reservations downstairs they didn’t want to miss, but I know they all appreciated your willingness to sit in for the demonstration.”
The remaining women in the room zipped purses and jingled keys. Some moved toward the door while others checked cell phones and made calls.
One of the women paused in her conversation, and called over to Jessica, “Don’t fool yourself, hon. Those women are lighting out of here to look for men to try those massage moves for themselves. You got this class so hot and bothered I don’t think anyone can face the idea of going back to their hotel room alone.”
“There’s a tip for you though, Rocco.” The dark-haired woman who’d originally invited him in gestured to a bar glass full of cash. “We didn’t want you to sacrifice any income on our behalf.”
Ah crap. He’d wanted to assess Jessica Winslow’s potential as a scam artist and yet the presence of the overflowing tip jar made him feel like the one doing the scamming.
The heaviness in his limbs made it tough to stand. The heaviness between his thighs made it a bad idea anyhow. He willed away the effects of Jessica’s massage, wishing he could recover faster. He never should have allowed himself to get personally involved in the debtor’s world. It was pretty much the cardinal rule of repossession work and, of course, impossible to honor if you were looking out for personal interests like his father’s business. His father’s pride and independence.
“The pleasure was all mine.” He’d fork over the cash to the waiter who’d brought the appetizers halfway
