In Deep: Chase & Emma (All In Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

month. I’d like to
work with you on an as-needed basis, starting the day, ending the
day, sometimes in the middle, too.”
    I nodded. That was a
lot. But he’d be my only client.
    “I have a chance to
make history at these games, win gold medals and maybe even break a
world record. I think I can do it, especially if I work with the
right team. I’d like you to be a part of it.”
    My breath caught in my
throat as I looked up at him, feeling a sudden rush of excitement.
I’d always loved the Olympic Games, the triumph of will and
athleticism, the inspiring moments of personal achievement and
victory hovering over the risk of heartbreak and failure. I usually
watched them with my parents, holding my breath, jumping up to cheer
at a perfect vault or record-breaking sprint. Watching athletes fly
through water had always been our favorite. Swimming was huge in
Florida where the weather made it a year-round sport. I’d done some
recreational team swimming as a kid, enough so I really understood
what a Herculean impossibility it was to swim that fast.
    Chase was one of the
greatest swimmers of all time. He’d missed the last Olympic Games
in 2012 due to an injury, leaving the spotlight to others. Now he had
his chance. As a part of his team, Chase was offering me a chance to
make history.
    “Let’s do it.” I
smiled up at him.
    “Thank you.” He
reached out and gave my shoulder a brief squeeze. The contact buzzed
through me as I nodded, my stomach doing a slow flip. I didn’t know
what kind of a ride we’d be on for the next month, but I knew I
wanted to be on it.
    Wasting no time—that
precious asset—he pulled off his shirt and shorts, standing before
me in just boxer briefs. I think I managed to keep a calm,
professional mask on my face but inside I was leaping around and
freaking out. Those abs! That V! He’s hung like a horse!
    “Tonight, focus on my
right shoulder and left quad.” He climbed onto the massage table,
lying on his back.
    I asked him a bit about
each, making sure he didn’t perceive any recent injury or
aggravation. He had general muscle fatigue, plus some symptoms of
overuse. I would have to talk to his coaches and get the full plan on
how he was going to taper. Somehow I didn’t think “scaling back”
was a frequent phrase used in Chase’s vocabulary. He might need
some help with that.
    Zeroing in on the task
at hand, I worked on his thigh, focusing on my every touch, making
sure I applied enough but not too much pressure, easing his tension.
I could feel some grittiness in his quad, maybe scar tissue, and he
needed care and attention. I could lose myself in my work, and I did
just that, but right as I gave his warm and relaxed muscle a pat and
said “turn over,” something snapped me right out of it.
    His cock, long and hard
and fully aroused, strained against his briefs. Fully covered, I
still could see every impressive inch of it pressing against the
thin, form-fitting cotton. My mouth fell slightly open as I noticed
the ridge around his crown. So huge. What would it feel like to be
with a man that big? And in his kind of athletic condition? He could
probably fuck me all night.
    He flipped over, not
saying a word. I hadn’t even met his eyes. I was too busy staring
at his cock. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my racing heart.
    Every professional
massage therapist had a story about a client becoming aroused. It was
only natural when a man was getting a rubdown with warm oils and
stroking hands. It was the masseuse’s responsibility to maintain
strict professional standards, not drawing attention to the
potentially embarrassing situation but also clearly shutting down any
alternate scenarios. There would be no happy ending from a
professional masseuse.
    Thankfully, I’d never
had a client make an inappropriate advance. That wasn’t even
happening now. Chase lay there on his stomach as I began working on
his back and shoulder, breathing deeply, silent.
    I was the problem.