Fade Back (A Stepbrother Romance Novella) Read Online Free Page A

unattainable man made Becka horny enough to squeeze her legs together as she lay down, desperate to relieve the tingling. This was ridiculous. The air in the room felt hot, heavy with expectation. Yet it gave her goosebumps as she wrapped the towel he handed to her under her bra, to cover it up. She cursed mentally at this necessity—now he won’t appreciate her lacy number that covered her perfect perky breasts.
    "So, today I'm just going to do the outlines: only black, and then you'll need to come back for the next session. After something like this, most people need a week to recover. Are you ready?" Every word from Fitz’s mouth sounded laden with sexual promise to Becka, and it wasn't until the needle started buzzing that she finally felt the humming between her legs go down.
    "Okay, so quick note: this shouldn't really hurt, but you're going to want to wriggle. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT wriggle. Grip the table sides if you have to but keep your back straight and stay still. Let me know if you need a break, okay?”
    Becka nodded and closed her eyes tight. The bench she was on was somewhere between a dentist's chair and a massage table, padded with soft leather and smelling faintly of disinfectant, and the earthier tone of sweat beneath it. She thought about how many bodies had pressed into this seat, faces ringed with sweat and blushed with anticipation, how many girls lusted for Fitz’s touch as he drafted out the outlines, pressing cool sheets of transfer paper against the feverish skin of her body. She wondered how many of those girls had wanted to unzip those tattered jeans and put the advantages of this table to good use. A moan escaped from deep in her chest before she had a chance to stop it. When she heard Fitz chuckle, "I haven't even started yet,” it was almost too much for her to bear. She couldn't be left in silence here, or her imagination would get the better of her.
    "Are we allowed to talk during?"
    "We can, as long as you don't wriggle. Or laugh. And try not to breathe too much." His tone was teasing, but it made Becka want to do all three at once. Maybe if she just rolled onto her side, and kind of, you know... Oh stop it, let the man do his job, the angel on her shoulder said snippily. He probably gets this all the time.
    "That's okay, you can do most of the talking,” Becka said, and was surprised to hear a lengthy pause, punctuated only by the insistent buzzing of Fitz’s pen.
    "I could put the radio on if you think you'll be bored?"
    "No, I mean, tell me about yourself."
    "Oh, you don't want to hear that kind of shit. Do girls like you like TV?"
    “Girls like me?" Becka teased him, enjoying the nervous energy Fitz was projecting, distracting her from her own awkwardness.
    "You know, twenty-year-olds. You work down at Lux, don't you?"
    "How do you know that?"
    "Oh... Karen said something. She can be a real loud mouth."
    "Oh really?" Becka remembered the laconic-to-the-point-of-hostility Karen and raised an eyebrow.
    "....Yeah. She's pretty talkative one-on-one, you know."
    "I'll bet. I work at Lux but I'm not, like, married to it. Anyway I thought you were meant to be doing the talking. I'm just lying here. Still as a log. No wriggling."
    "No wriggling!” Becka’s eyes were closed but she could hear a smile in Fitz’s voice. “I’m a homebody I guess. Old dogs and all that."
    "Shut up, old? You can't be a day over twenty-nine.”
    "Ha! That's cute. Well, I feel old, anyway. I get restless sometimes, but that's when it's time to pack up my gear and go someplace else. I've guested in studios all up and down the country, just for the change of scenery. But everywhere you go, the same old problems come up."
    "Like what?" Becka asked softly.
    "Loneliness, mostly." Fitz replied, his voice like a lost puppy that Becka desperately wanted to scoop up and hold close. Instead, she changed the subject.
    "Where was your favorite place you lived?" Becka asked, thinking to herself, restless : that's