Page 30 of All In

Harlow’s voice startles me, and I jerk my head up. He’s already under the drape. “Are you watching me undress?”

He shrugs, but his cheeks are pink. “No. But I’m not, not watching. I mean, you’re right there. It’s not like there’s a whole lot else to look at.”

Great. Harlow is watching me undress, but only because there’s nothing else to look at.

Why do I even care? I shouldn’t. I don’t.

I shift a little, pushing my boxers down my legs with a quick exhaled breath. I’m not shy or ashamed of my body, but I’ve also never showed it to Harlow before, and I can feel his eyes boring into my back. Which means he can also see my ass.

A shiver runs through me, and I quickly slide onto the bed and pull the drape over my lap.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling.

Harlow giggles. “This is gonna be fun. I love getting massages.”

“I’ve only had a few. Never an oil massage.”

“Ugh,” Harlow groans. “It’s so good. You’re missing out.”

I smile up at the ceiling. “Well, I won’t be for long.”

There’s a soft knock at the door, and Harlow calls out for them to come in.

I take a deep breath. It’s just a massage. I’ll close my eyes and relax, and then when we’re done, we’ll go back to the hotel and take a nap. Dressed. It’ll be okay.

Chapter 10

Harlow

I’m the worst husband in the world.

Not because I wouldn’t be a good husband. I’d like to think I’d be a fanfuckingtastic husband. What it really is, is that I’m the worst best friend in the world.

This was a mistake. Not the marriage. This massage.

First off, Grayson is fucking… hot. That’s really what it comes down to. He’s hot.

And yeah, we’ve known each other for literally ever, and I already know he’s attractive. But I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. It was like it unlocked something in my brain. He’s not hot in an abstract best friend way. He’s fucking hot. Like really fucking hot. Burn to the touch hot. Drop to my knees and—nope. No. Nuh-uh. Those are definitely bad best friend thoughts.

But we’ve already established that my dick is a whore. A real big fucking whore, as it turns out. And it’s very intrigued, because very hot, very naked Grayson is just a few feet away. But that’s not even the biggest problem.

I mean… it’s a contributing factor for sure. But the real problem is the unholy, ungodly groan he just let out.

I’ve never been so thankful in my entire life to be lying on my stomach.

The massage therapist must hit a tender spot on his back because he, honest to God, whimpers. I swear I’m not strong enough for this. My whore dick pulses as I bite into my lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

“I’m sorry, you have a bit of a tense spot here.”

“It’s okay,” Gray responds, his voice a raspy drawl that has my stomach heating.

“How much longer do we have?” I ask softly.

“We’re just about done,” Mara answers.

Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.

Although… I don’t know how I’m supposed to get up and dressed without Grayson noticing the way this whole thing has affected me.