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“How often do you do that?” he asks. “Go for massages?”

It’s a luxury I’ve only allowed myself when it’s been gifted from a friend. “Maybe once a year if I’m lucky?”

His thumbs dance along my spine before pressing into the muscles on either side. “You need one.”

I groan. “Maybe I’ll treat myself with my Christmas bonus.” The words come out as a husky whisper, because sweet baby Jesus