Free Terms of Service by Emma Nichols Page B

into her sore muscles, feel it warm to his touch.  He wanted to hear her moan in pleasure, which was precisely what prevented him from acting on his desires.
    How many times today had he had to remind himself she was supposed to be punished and humiliated so he could recover from his divorce, get women out of his system once and for all?  It was no use.  Every time he looked at Hannah, he found himself desiring her, admiring her even.  He sighed.  Glancing at his watch, he realized she was only fifteen minutes into her massage.
    Standing, he moved toward the French doors he had exited earlier.  They still stood open.  He couldn’t help it.  He had to at least watch.  Slowly, silently, he slipped into the room and moved to one of the leather chairs near the fireplace.  Careful not to make a sound, he sat and put a finger to his lips as Sierra frowned at him.  He was paying her.  If he wanted to be in the room, he damn well should be able to.  Leaning back, he watched in fascination.
    “You are very tense,” Sierra commented as she rubbed the area between Hannah’s shoulder blades, the area that Hannah had so diligently tried to stretch out after her near accident on the stairs.
    Emitting a light laugh, Hannah responded.  “I’m not surprised.”  
    “Let me know if I hurt you,” Sierra commanded as she pressed extra hard, working to relieve the tension in Hannah’s taut shoulders.
    Gavin leaned forward and watched.  Hannah’s knuckles tensed.  She was most definitely in pain.  He could see her bottom lip as she bit down on it.  Still she refused to complain.  Instead, she lay there and took what was being dealt.  He was fascinated.  This was a woman who wouldn’t easily be broken, probably because she was used to hurt.  He sank deeply in his seat.  He really needed to ponder what he had seen.  This could change everything.
     
    ***
     
    It was their second day living together, one day before Hannah would be expected to report to Gavin’s office for work.  She felt the need to accomplish as much as possible in what time she had.  Rising early, she showered and woke the girls for breakfast.  To her delight, there was plenty of food in the kitchen.  Normally on a Sunday, she would cook a big breakfast of eggs, home fries, toast or cinnamon rolls, and hot chocolate.  She smiled.  There would be time for it next week.  Now she had to grab some cereal and find the nearest Lowe’s or Home Depot.
    There were at least a few items she knew she needed immediately.  Walking purposefully around the store, she picked up the spackle she would require to fix the holes, some sand paper, and the spackle spreader thingy.  So what if she didn’t know every tool’s proper name.  She had watched enough home improvement shows she knew what she was doing.
    Finally, she and the girls were in the area which would require the greatest amount of time: the paint department.  Initially she had hoped to go with something similar to the beachfront homes she had cleaned as a teenager in Wilmington, but she knew Gavin’s house was far too formal for her to simply wainscot the walls and paint a shade of pale sky blue.
    Frowning, she thought about how her room should be Gavin’s.  If she did a nice enough job on it, maybe he would be able to use it when she left.  Smiling, she picked a tinted Venetian plaster.  She’d make this room grand enough to be the master bedroom as it was intended.  Confident in her choice, she moved to the next aisle and found curtain rod assemblies and curtains.  After a trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond she’d really be in business.
    As she went through the checkout, however, she began to fill with one nagging doubt.  She wasn’t entirely certain of her ability to install the plaster.
    “Wow,” the woman running the register exclaimed, “I’ve heard this can be a bit tricky.  Are you doing it yourself?”  She gestured to the plaster.
    Biting her lower lip, Hannah answered,