Page 14 of Platinum Pressure

“Now when you aggravate your knee and end up pushing your surgery back even further into the future, then what?” I asked.

He yelped. “Damn. I almost dropped my croissant!”

I cackled at the sight of him clutching his chest at his big-ass size. “You need to sit your ass down. Why are you up without your crutches?”

“I was hungry.”

I shook my head. “No excuse. When you need something and no one is around to get it for you, you need to use those crutches every time.” I went over to the couch and grabbed the crutches off the side of the coffee table and brought them over to Platinum. I took the breakfast croissants out of his hand and took them over to the couch.

“Thanks.”

The grumble in his voice amused me. He was hardheaded as hell, but a hard head would make a soft ass if he kept doing the opposite from my regimen. When he made his way back over to the couch, I elevated his leg while he ate his food. I opened the curtains and allowed the sun to kiss the room.

I set up for the day, which consisted of logging into the iPad, opening Platinum’s chart, and deciding what we would do today.

“Today’s agenda will solely rely on what your leg looks like when I take off your brace and see the state of healing.”

He nodded. “Cool.”

I removed the covering and took pictures to add to his chart. The leg had lots of discoloration and swelling. A sigh slid from my lips.

“Today will be a rest day. There is a lot of irritation in the knee and tightness in the surrounding areas. I’m going to do some massages to help ease the tension in your calf, thigh, and ankle. As long as you’re comfortable.”

“Do what you’ve got to do.”

Once he’d given me the okay, I dug into my backpack to grab the gloves, oil, and a towel. After I grabbed a chair from the dining room, I set the towel in my lap and positioned his leg to rest on the towel.

For an athletic man, he had nice feet. There weren’t any bunions, black toes, or cracked skin. He had hairy toe knuckles, but those tiny hairs were an indicator of healthy circulation and blood flow. I started with his toes, applying the appropriate amount of oil, and worked it through each toe and used pressure along the sole of his foot.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch.

“Damn.”

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“Quite the opposite, actually. Don’t stop.”

The slight breathiness of his sentence sent a tingle to the pearl between my legs. I pushed those thoughts away and moved my hands up to his calves, making sure the knee didn’t bend as I worked out the tightness in the back of his leg.

It was inappropriate for my body to react the way it did to Platinum’s sounds of gratitude. He wasn’t my first male client, and I shouldn’t have been turned on by the way he reacted to my touch.

None of your clients were Platinum mothafuckin Jones, bitch. Everyone in your position would react the same way when a man that fine was enjoying a massage.

When I got to his thighs, I couldn’t help but notice the twitch in his loosely fitted basketball shorts as I worked out the tightness in his quads. I diverted my gaze before my mind wandered down into dangerous territory.

Platinum was a patient.

Nurses couldn’t date patients.

Nurses couldn’t fantasize about patients.

“Shit.”

The sound of his low moan brought me out of my thoughts just as he placed one of the couch throw pillows into his lap. I finished the last few massages and set his leg gently on the mountain of pillows before standing up to put some distance between us.

The air was thick with tension—a tension I didn’t want to sit in much longer.

“Let me put this chair back and record the time the session ended.”