As he spoke she increased the pressure on her closed fists as she rocked them into the tightness in his lower back. She leaned into it, feeling his stress, working it out. That job in France had been a big deal. He had given it up, his dream of working abroad, all for an angry ex and an unplanned child. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like, raising a baby unsure of the love of your partner.
JT groaned audibly, and she eased up.
“No, don’t stop,” he rushed. “Jesus, that feels so good.”
Biting back a little smirk she resumed, opening her fists and working her thumbs into the little dimples above his butt. She had forgotten about those.
“Ok if I go a little lower?” She asked huskily, her thumbs already slipping beneath the hem of the towel.
“Uh huh,” he groaned again, clearly enjoying her ministrations.
Wondering how bold she could be before he stopped her, Maggie let her thumbs glide into the muscle of his butt. So tight, even here. Trust a guy like JT to store tension in every possible place, even his ass. He was always wound so tight. He’d either be working out for hours or fucking her brains out to release it. She used to marvel at how her body could clear his mind, bring him sleep, coax his smile.
But that was six years ago, she reminded herself. Surely the span of years had made them both different people.
Maggie absently turned this idea over in her mind as she kneaded his ass, her fingers wrapping around to his hips. Was she different? In some ways, yes. She had felt true heartbreak after he left her, the kind that makes you doubt if love is even real. Then Derrick and the happiness with him, milder than JT but still so good. A wedding and then a diagnosis and then heartbreak of an altogether different kind. A widow at 27, not even financially stable or fulfilled in her work. The avalanche of medical and funeral expenses had nearly bankrupted her, and Derrick’s assets were long gone. It was certainly not what she had thought her life would look like.
But if you stripped that down and got to the core, she was still the same. She still felt that same schoolgirl thrill when JT looked at her with his burning gaze. Her appetite was the same, maybe even greater now with its added starvation. She still wanted that crazy love, the kind that fast forwarded time and made all the troubles in your life seem paltry and ridiculous. Nothing mattered, really, when you had a connection like that. Maggie remembered it vividly.
A gentle chime sounded, waking Maggie from her daydreaming. She straightened, easing her hands off of his butt. Jesus, not how she’d imagined her morning going, she thought with a gentle laugh.
“Flip over for me,” she said softly, going back to the side table for a little spearmint lotion. Something to wake him up a bit, keep him refreshed the rest of his day.
“On my back?” he clarified, his voice sounding a bit hoarse.
“Yeah. I can get your shoulders more that way in the time we’ve got left.”
She turned back to him, expecting to see him shifting, but he had propped himself up on his elbows once more, looking at her. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was blushing.