Up For Grabs

Nathan's just trying to be a good wingman—pickup duty for his buddy's leftover junk at the ex's place. Key in hand, he lets himself in and starts tossing things in boxes. One old shoebox catches his eye: half-used lotions, concert wristbands, and a neon coupon screaming "SEXY MASSAGE—REDEEM FOR A HAPPY ENDING." He chuckles, pockets it, and that exact moment Kenzie storms in, arms crossed, already rolling her eyes. She knows the drill, figures she’ll let the guy finish and get out. Nathan, never one to waste an opening, shoots his shot the second she turns her back. Kenzie’s jaw practically hits the floor. Her ex’s best friend? Really? Still, heat creeps up her neck. She hates that she notices the stupid smirk. He dangles the coupon like a poker chip. "Trade ya," he grins. "You rub my back, I disappear forever." She wants to smack him. Instead she marches him to the spare room and the padded table she uses for legit clients, muttering curses the whole way. Oil in her hands, she kneels beside him, digs her thumbs between his shoulder blades, all business. Nathan’s already moaning, loud and fake. Two minutes later he flips the script, pulling her onto the table instead. Surprise shifts to a gasp when his slick fingers slide between her thighs, circling slow, then testing, then curling right where it counts. Her head tips back; she feels that first, dangerous flutter that says she’s in trouble. He flashes a second coupon. "Happy ending redemption available, last chance." She answers by yanking his sweats down. Straddling his hips, she sinks onto him, riding hard enough the table creaks. Every thrust shakes the ghost of her ex right out of her head; she decides, with a wicked little grin aimed down at Nathan, that some messes really are worth making twice.