Confined with the CEO and the Bodyguard

impressive lump under my crisp white towel. I feel my brows pull into a scowl. Like I need the temptation at this particular moment.
“Thinking about where I’ll go if things don’t work out here at the Black Diamond,” I say quickly. “Where I’ll go if you kick me out.”
“Do you have anywhere else to live? Family?”
“No.”
I dig my elbow into Beau’s iliotibial band, partly to cut off any more questions about my past. He tenses and then moans with release. This does not alleviate my desire in any way. I do feel momentary satisfaction that I’ve identified a problem spot, though. “We’ll keep working on this. Your hips are very tight, Mr. Reed. Your lower lumbar isn’t getting better because your pelvic region is locked up.”
“Is that so,” he drawls. I may have pushed a little too hard. His face is ashen beneath his tan.
I am saved by the bell, literally. A timer beeps quietly in the background. I turn it off, and when I return to Beau’s side, I find him watching me with hooded eyes. My stomach flips. I glance away. “I’ll give you some stretches to do. I’ll meet you in the living room after you shower and dress.”
I open the door to the bathroom. Beau doesn’t wait for me to leave. He rolls over and off the side of the table, standing up. I try not to look—professionalism, Sadie—but I get a clear view of his naked butt.
I drop my eyes and gather the linens. When I stand straight again with my arms full of bundled cotton, I find him inches from my side. He cups my chin. “You’re skittish, Sadie Banes. What happened to turn you into such a scaredy-cat?”
I jerk away. My gaze drops to the floor. Heat flushes through me as I realize I’m staring at his erect cock. Wow.
There are so many ways this could go wrong.
I summon every last ounce of my hard-won discipline. I will not screw up this opportunity. “Ask me sometime when you have your clothes on.”
He chuckles and swings into the shower.
I toss the sheets into the laundry and wash my hands. There’s no point in changing my oil-spotted outfit. If I wanted to look sexy I’d have stuck with stripping.
Dakota raps on the door the instant I fold onto the couch. “Hey,” he says. “Is this still a good time?”
He smells faintly of mint and masculinity. I am so comforted by his arrival that I close my eyes.
“Yes. Perfect. Beau is just taking a shower. I’ll set up the table as soon as he’s finished.”
Dakota laughs. “That might be a while. He’s a bit of a princess.”
“Really?” I snort. “I would not have guessed that about him.” I flip through Dakota’s questionnaire and try to resume my thin façade of professionalism. “So, you have upper-back tension that causes soreness in your shoulders. Is this related to phone usage?”
“Like staring down at a device? No. It’s all about holding my arms out like this while training Diablo.” Dakota demonstrates.
“Who’s Diablo?” I ask, thinking it might be a dog. I’ve seen one or two around the property. It wasn’t clear whether they were the same animal or different ones with similar markings. They seem to hang out around the barn, where the Hinsons live in a converted apartment upstairs. I know this because Beau has told me quite a bit about the inner functions of The Black Diamond Ranch over text messages.
“The horse that threw Beau a few weeks ago.” Dakota flashes me a grin. My heart flutters in a very different way. More curiosity and yearning, less angsty wrongness.
“Are you going to sell that devil beast?” asks Beau. His abrupt arrival startles me. I drop the pen I’m holding, and bend to pick it up. In retrospect, I should’ve spent my quarantine time doing just about anything other than masturbating several times a day to the thought of fucking these two men. It seemed harmless at the time, but now, being in the same room with them is torturing my nerves.
Especially since they get to be naked.
Professionalism, Sadie, I remind myself sternly.
It does not help matters to find both men subtly eyeing the front of my ratty shirt when I sit up again. “Beau, let me show you two stretches for your IT band and lower back.” I cross my legs and bend forward until there’s a gentle pull up the side of my thigh. When he doesn’t mimic me, I stand up.
“You want me to do that?” he asks. His eyes twinkle with teasing humor.
“Yes.” To my surprise, he complies. I admit that I enjoy watching his body contort. The fresh gray Henley-style shirt he’s wearing is rolled up to expose his sinewy forearms. You’d look too, okay?
Besides, they’ve been checking me out since the day I arrived here. Turnabout is fair play and all.
“Great. Now cross your legs the other way and do it again. Hold that stretch for thirty seconds on each side, and repeat the exercises twice a day.”
I am proud of myself for regaining my equanimity. I briskly scoop up my clipboard and cast a glance at Dakota. “Ready?”
“Didn’t you say there were two exercises?” drawls Beau.
So much for my composure.
“Right.” I drop the objects I’m holding onto the couch and stretch my arms overhead. Both men watch me intently. Suddenly, I feel the side of me that gyrated against poles for the pleasure of men (and occasionally women; honestly, they were the best tippers) take over. I enjoyed performing when I was on the stage. It was dealing with the lap dances and working the floor for tips that I didn’t care for, but that’s how you make the real money as a stripper. Guys will tip you a hundred bucks to flirt with them in a booth for half an hour, but you usually get a single dollar for wiggling your ass in their face. It’s all about the personal touch, so to speak.
Anyway, I stick out my chest and