Chase the Pain: A Dark Mafia Billionaire Romance (Amatucci Family Book 1) Read online

  He drilled a finger into my ribs. “Friends don’t have to think of England when they’re getting a massage. I swear, no funny stuff.”

  I swatted his hand away. “Then get on with it already.”

  “Bossy.” He settled the bowl against my opposite hip. Placed my hand around the outside of it so it wouldn’t tip over.

  “How many of these have you done? You seem pretty skilled.” I watched his face.

  Sadness touched his grass-green eyes. “My Grams needed care for a while during my college years. She stayed at our house. One of the physical therapists taught me how to do this.”

  I swallowed back the snarky comment that was ready on my lips. “I’m sorry. Is she still here?”

  He nodded as he dipped his hand into the bowl. “Yeah.” He cupped his free hand under the one that was full, moved both hands towards my feet. “Yeah, she’s in long-term care at Good Shepherd.”

  My heart pinched. “Will she ever get to leave?” I asked softly.

  He shook his head.

  I wanted to touch him. To pat his leg or offer him comfort. But considering his previous behavior, I had a feeling it would either be misinterpreted or unwelcome. I kept my hands to myself. “I’m sorry. I’ve never lost someone I loved, but if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you.”

  He nodded. “Thanks.” He seemed to shake himself. He looked up at me. “You ready?”

  I nodded. If he’d done this for his grandmother, I felt I was pretty safe in getting it done and not having anything ‘unfriendly’ spring up.

  He dribbled the liquid over my legs. Warm, not quite hot, it was very soothing against my skin. He grabbed another palmful from the bowl at my hip and did the process again. And again.

  “Are you making a slip n slide on my legs?” I asked, humor in my tone.

  He shot me a wink. “More lotion means I won’t be able to dig into your muscles. Which is good. If the tissue has been damaged, then I need to refrain from jabbing into them. Lymphatic massage is about moving the fluid inside your tissue. Not the tissue itself.”

  All I heard was ‘barely any pressure.’ I struggled not to whine. Light, fleeting touches did nothing but annoy me. But, he was trying to be a friend, so I would shut up and let him do so.

  After I was lubed up to his apparent satisfaction, he started at my toes. Long, slow gliding strokes from each toe up to my knee. His hands were warm, the slightest bit rough.

  I couldn’t tell that he was doing a whole lot, but if he was trying to move the liquid that was inside my body, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. Over and over he ran the flat of his hands over my skin. The pressure was enough that I knew where his hands were, but that was about it.

  My mind began to empty as I mentally traced his hands over my skin. I’d never spent a lot of time thinking about my body. Not since getting divorced. While I’d been married, I’d had nothing else to think about.

  But here, now, with Ryker, I became aware of everything. My skin. How sore my lower legs were. Right over my ankles, it felt like I had boulders trying to procreate.

  As if he knew exactly where to go, he concentrated his light strokes over those areas. As he worked in smooth circles on my lower legs, I felt my body sink into the bed.

  His slight chuckle a low hum in the air. “Feel good?”

  I nodded. “Very. You’ve got good hands.”

  “I’ll tell Grams her therapist trained me well.”

  I smiled and looked at him. His expression was intense as he watched his hands. Little frowns would pucker his brows when he would hit a spot that needed extra attention. His fingertips would flatten against my flesh, angle the slightest bit deeper.

  By the time he got to my right knee, I was anticipating his touch. The surface of his skin had smoothed out against mine. But, if such a thing were possible, his hands had gotten warmer. Almost hot. Like he’d held a cup of freshly poured coffee for long moments before touching me.

  His fingers traced the joint softly. Moved in long gliding motions from just below my knee to directly above it. I lost count of the number of times he followed the same path.

  One particular spot on the inside, just over the edge of my bone had me sucking in a breath. My lower belly tightened in a rush. Holy cannoli, what the shit was that?

  “Okay?” he asked, his hands stalled on the point.

  I nodded. “Yeah. Just sensitive right there.” Please goddess don’t let him know what kind of sensitive.

  His brow tightened slightly. With slower speed and a hint more pressure, he prodded the area with more focus. Over and over he ran his fingers on that spot that made me feel like I was about to come off the bed.

  Recipes filled my head as I tried to get my mind off of what he was doing. Two and a half cups of sugar. One and a half cups of unsweetened cocoa powder. One and a quarter cups of sweet goddess, please, just a little harder.

  No. Wrong.

  “Cupcake? You good? Your body’s all tense. Am I hurting you?” He sounded concerned.

  “Maybe move to a different spot?” My words were a little shaky around the edges but I thought I sounded pretty normal. I looked at him.

  He nodded but continued to frown. He bent my knee the slightest degree, angled it outward from the midline of my body. “I swear I’m not creeping on your goodies. You’ve got a lot of fluid sitting in your inner thigh. You okay for me to drag it up and out towards your hip bone point?” He tapped the outside edge of the waistband of my boyshorts.

  “How are you going to drag it up and out?”

  He angled his hands down between my legs.

  I let out a peep, my eyes huge.

  He chuckled. “Hold on.” Once he had a soft, open-handed grip on my flesh, he somehow managed to flatten it and roll it outwards towards my hip in one smooth motion.

  My eyes almost rolled up inside my head. A low moan vibrated from my throat before I knew what was happening.

  My eyes popped wide again. I slapped a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how that happened.”

  He chuckled and got his hands between my legs again. “You’ve got tons of nerve endings, fluid, flesh, tissue, and muscle here. If you’ve been celibate, it doesn’t get touched very often. I’ll try not to let it go to my head.”

  My cheeks flushed as his smile widened.

  He did the motion again.

  Fire lit my insides. Sweet goddess and all the brownies, that was amazing. Another moan purled from my throat. I grabbed the extra pillow and slapped it over my face. “CARRY ON!” I yelled through the thick fluff.

  Holy fucking cannoli! I felt that everywhere. Gone was the sleepy haze that had invaded my mind as I followed his touch over my skin. No. Now, I had very definite ideas of where I wanted his hands. But they had nothing to do with lymphatic massage.

  Sweet bippy, this was going to be the best kind of torture.

  Chapter 24 – Ryker

  I bit my lip as she wiggled and slithered around on the bed. She was going to drive me fucking bonkers. Her moans had me believing in angels.

  Forcing myself to keep the pressure light, correct, was the worst lesson in self-control I’d had in at least a decade. Her pelvis dipped low and bumped up as I tried to keep being her friend.

  Think of Grams. Think of Grams. Think of Grams.

  Treat her like a princess. Grams’ sweet voice in my head helped clear the lust that was as thick as the lotion I was using on Willow. Sweet fuck, let this be over soon.

  Her left leg pushed into my hip.

  Shit. Her other leg. Not to mention the backs of her legs. I was going to implode. Or die. Can someone die from blue balls? Is that a thing?

  It had started out fine. Very platonic. I could feel the fluid sitting just beneath her skin. Felt it move out of the way under the light force of my hands. Her skin was losing that puffy purple and blue color. At least in her lower legs. Her ankles looked almost normal now.

  I’d been able to focus on healing. On helping her f
eel better. I’d been doing a damn good job of it, too.

  Now? Now all I wanted to do was slide my hands the slightest bit higher. Feel the wet heat of her pussy instead of the lotion that was rapidly cooling. I wanted to trace my fingers over flesh that was full of nerve endings and hear her moan again.

  “Ryker.”

  My head tipped back as I tried to concentrate through the lust. I was hallucinating her voice in my head calling me by my first name. My lovers weren’t allowed to do that. Ever. It was always Mr. Penn.

  But it felt right for Willow to use my first name.

  “Ryker.”

  One of her hands grabbed mine.

  I brought my head up in a flash, afraid I’d gotten carried away. She peeked at me from under the pillow. Her face was flushed under the lights of her bedroom. Her eyes were heavy and almost glowing. “You need to stop.”

  I ground my teeth together. I swallowed, made sure I could control my voice. “I need to do your other leg. I swear I’ll keep it kosher. But you’d hate me if I only did one leg. Not to mention feel like your left leg was encased in monster truck tires compared to your right.”

  She studied me, her sage eyes heated and begging. I knew she wasn’t begging me to touch her. Not really. Not in the way I wanted to. But damn did I want to see her looking at me like that soon.

  So fucking soon.

  I lifted my hands away from her right thigh. I grabbed the bowl at her hip. “I need to go warm this up again.” I got up and walked out of the room. The bowl was low enough that hopefully she hadn’t seen how hard I was.

  I put the bowl back in the microwave. Hit the thirty seconds button. I opened the freezer and stuffed my head in there. I’ve got to get my body under control if I’m going to go back in there and finish helping her legs. Fuck, friendship is hard.

  I let the freezer door shut as I moved to the sink. I flipped the water on, wrenched it to the cold side. I let the water run over my hands for a moment. Then, looking over my shoulder in both directions to make sure the coast was still clear, I shoved my hands down my pants and gripped my dick. That fucker was hard as steel.

  I hissed out a breath as the shock of the colder temperature softened the iron somewhat. The microwave dinged as I pulled my hands out of my pants. I hurried to wash my hands and get back to Willow.

  I walked back into her room and just about dropped the bowl on the stone floor. She was spread-eagle, just the black tank and panties covering the good bits. Her left leg glistened under the light. Like the finest sheen of sweat has decorated her.

  “Ryker? You good?” she asked, her brows high as she raised her head and stared at me.

  I jolted into motion. “Yeah.” I swallowed. “All good.” I walked over to her bed, bowl held low again. I climbed onto the other side of the bed. Wrenched my long legs into the crossed-legged position. Willow’s leg I’m working on needs to stay as straight as possible. If it bends or dips down, that’s where all the fluid will pool.

  I scooched up until my knees nestled against her hip and her knee. The bowl went against her far hip and I started again at her toes. The old lotion had congealed slightly in the cooler air, but as soon as I added the warmer lotion, it beaded up, ready to be used.

  Grams. Grams. Grams.

  Gams. Gams. Gams.

  Fuck, Willow has the sexiest legs I think I’ve ever seen. Like the women from the 1950s, her ankles are narrow and slim. From there, the slight swell of her calves blossoms before dipping in for her knees. Then it was all flowering flesh from knees to hips. Her hips and ass…I was in hell while touching heaven.

  I struggled not to rush. To get to her thighs so I could hear her moan as my hands moved over her flesh. I resorted to counting. Ten long seconds to get from toes to just over her ankle. Twenty times each.

  Fifteen seconds to trail from ankle to knee. Her skin was still mottled, but the healthy glow of the surface had me biting my lip. I wanted to trail my tongue up her skin. Taste her everywhere.

  One day. Hopefully, one day fucking soon, I’d get to. It was either that or go fucking insane.

  Finally, her leg from knee down was done. I was back at the gates of Valhalla. Standing outside, hoping for a glimpse beyond the gate.

  The breath backed up in my chest as I gathered her flesh in my hands. As I leaned forward to roll it up and out to her hip bone, I made the mistake of looking up into her face.

  Lust, so rich and thick I could practically taste it, pulled at her face. Her lips were swollen as if she’d been biting at them. Pink rode her cheeks. They brought out the sparkle in her eyes as her pupils blew out.

  My fingers gripped instead of rolled.

  Her eyes fluttered while her body rippled under my hands as a moan lifted from her mouth. Her hand landed on my thigh. On another moan, her nails sank into the denim and flesh.

  Sweet pain sparked through my mind. Without thought, I pushed my thigh up against her hand. Deepened the pressure of her nails against me.

  We stayed there for long moments. Long enough that my lungs started pleading for oxygen. I inhaled so quickly, I let out a low whistle.

  She dropped her hand from my leg like I was a hot potato and she was allergic to starch.

  I rocked back, sat up straight. My hands no longer touched her body. They hovered somewhere over her belly. Two sides of my mind fought a vicious and bloody battle.

  The good side must have won because I let them fall back into my lap instead of on her. I closed my eyes, breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth until I could no longer feel my heartbeat in my ears.

  “Holy fucking cannoli,” she breathed.

  I chuckled. “Yeah. It wasn’t ever like that with Grams.”

  We both paused as my words settled on the air around us.

  As if on some signal, we both burst into laughter. I fell back, my head tipping off the side of the bed as huge gusts of emotion poured through me. Not quite the release I had in mind, but it would do for now. I’d done it. I’d been a nice friend. Surely, I was up to like ninety points for this. Hell, maybe even ninety-five.

  “What the hell is going on?” Tali said from the door. Her voice was ice cold and her brothers all stood behind her. Rage in their eyes.

  Well fuck.

  Chapter 25 – Willow

  I hurried to sit up. My body was mostly mush, so it took a hot minute. I grabbed onto Ryker’s leg to help.

  He shoved me away like I was a leper.

  I fell back against the pillows.

  “Minus five points,” I said under my breath. “Jerk.”

  He sighed, reached over and helped me sit. “Can I have them back now?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Maybe.”

  “What are you two whispering about? Why is Ryker on your bed?” Tali asked, arms crossed, one hip popped out. She tapped her long red nails against her opposite arm. “I’m waiting.”

  “He was helping me with my legs. Apparently there’s a type of massage that helps move fluid around. Lymphatic massage.” I looked at Rafe, glared. “At least he didn’t drug me.”

  Rafe ducked his head, scooted away from the doorway.

  “That’s not going to save you, Rafe. We’re going to have words, you and me,” I yelled after him. I looked at the other Amatucci siblings. “How’s Mama?”

  Tali shook her head. “Nope. Still on you and Ryker.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He was helping me after I had a nightmare.” I shrugged. I didn’t know what else they wanted me to say. Had it gotten a little more heated than I’d planned? Yes. But we’d kept our hands to ourselves. No harm, no foul.

  “None of you were here to help. It fell to me.” Ryker gathered up the bowl, pulled the towel out from under my body. “I couldn’t just let her suffer.”

  I smiled at him. Turned to the Amatuccis. “See. Just helping out a friend.”

  Dom snorted. “Helped himself into your bed.”

  “Farther than you’ve gotten and you’ve known her how many years?” Ryke
r said.

  I sucked in a breath. Felt part of my heart crack. I wasn’t some kind of trophy in a competition. “You just dropped into the negatives, Ryker. You asshole. Get out.” I pointed towards the door.

  His lips thinned down into a tight, mulish line. He turned fully to look at me, his back to the Amatuccis. “Make sure you drink a lot of water tomorrow.” He looked like he was going to say something else, but he snapped his mouth closed and spun on his heel. Strode from the room. If he’d been a steam engine locomotive, I think I would have heard that whistle blowing from a mile away.

  He slammed the bowl into Dom’s belly as he passed. “Take care of that for me, will you?”

  I could feel myself vibrating with the urge to run after him and give him a piece of my mind. But not while the Amatuccis were here. What had happened in this bed was between him and me alone. As much as I wanted to put my adopted siblings at ease, Ryker and I were both adults and we’d honored the boundaries we set up before anything happened.

  Tali walked into the bedroom fully, her brows pulled up and together as she searched my face. “You’re okay? Really?”

  I heaved a sigh. “Yeah, Tali. All he did was massage my legs.”

  “And all the sexy moaning?” Turo asked. “I can go beat the shit out of him. No fuss, no muss.” He dusted his hands off.

  “According to Ryker, there’re a lot of nerve endings in your thighs. Since I’ve been celibate, mine haven’t been touched in a while. Combine that with the relief of having some of this stupid swelling being pushed out, it felt like heaven.” I wasn’t going to mention the fact that I’d been this close to begging Ryker to touch me. And not just on my legs.

  I hadn’t been that turned on in my entire life. And while baking had been up there on my list of wants, it had taken a distant second place to appeasing that arousal. I’d need to be even more on my guard with Ryker in the future. If he could make my body sing like that with just a platonic massage, what could he do when he set his mind to actually seducing me?

  I shuddered delicately as all kinds of ideas ran through my mind. I was definitely going to have to be more careful. I wasn’t willing to be a convenient orifice for Ryker’s pleasure. I’d buy him a pocket pussy before I submitted myself to that kind of use.