A heavy smell of jasmine oil, soft incense, and warm skin hung thick in Kelly's quiet, dimly lit bedroom.
Liam lay face down on a thick, cushioned tatami mat laid out across the floor, his cheek pressed into a soft cotton towel.
His broad shoulders were glossy with lavender-scented massage oil, his back glistening under the low, warm glow of a bedside lamp.
Soft music hummed from a small speaker in the corner, a world away from the harsh, echoing slams of Elena's private training gym.
Kelly's hands—warm, slick, and surprisingly firm—slid up the deep channels of his spine, her thumbs digging into the tight knots between his shoulder blades with rhythmic, deliberate pressure.
"Is this pressure okay, Liam?" Kelly asked softly, her voice a soothing whisper right above him.
Liam let out a long, shuddering groan of pure, unadulterated relief, his forehead sinking deeper into the towel. "God... yes. Don't stop. Don't ever stop."
