Read The Princess and the Porn Star for Free Online

“It’ll be cold, just so you know.”
    “Thanks for the warning.”
    His other hand warmed my heel, and he lifted my foot just a little. Then he smoothed the ointment onto my skin, working his way from my Achilles heel to the top of my foot and back. Gentle, circular motions, pressing in just enough to massage the sore tissue without irritating it.
    I couldn’t lie: it felt good.
    And it wasn’t just because of the ointment or the fact that I finally had those damned shoes off. What could I say? I liked his hands. I liked the contrast between the cool ointment and the warmth of his fingers, and the gentle way he cradled my foot was… I just liked it.
    He probably gives a hell of a foot mass—
    I cleared my throat. “So, Buck, do—”
    “Lee.” He glanced up through his lashes. “Call me Lee.”
    Heat rushed into my face. Of course he had a real name, and for some reason, knowing that added a whole new dimension to how much I liked what he was doing to my ankle.
    Jesus, what is wrong with me?
    “Oh. Okay. Lee.” I paused. “In that case, call me Rachel.”
    He smiled. “Will do.”
    Our eyes met again, and the silence teetered on the brink of awkward, so I said, “You have to use this stuff a lot?”
    Lee nodded. “Last couple of years, I’ve started having problems with my neck and my hip.”
    “Job related?”
    He looked up again and smirked. “Well, my job hasn’t helped …”
    I laughed. “No, I can’t imagine it has.”
    He gestured at his neck. “Car accident, actually. Screwed up my neck and my shoulder.”
    “And your hip?”
    “No.” He chuckled, and my God, Buck Harder the porn star actually blushed. “No, that one’s definitely an on-the-job injury.”
    I…had no idea what to say to that.
    “I think that’s about enough.” He eased my foot back to the floor and then sat back on his heels. “Give it ten or fifteen minutes, and it should make a difference.”
    “Already has, actually.” I carefully flexed and straightened my ankle, testing the irritated joint, and it really did feel better. “Wow. That’s amazing. Thanks.”
    He smiled. “Any time.” He picked up the jar to screw the cap back on. “What about you? What happened to your ankle?”
    My face warmed again. “I broke it. A few years ago.” I shifted in my seat and quickly said, “So, this isn’t your usual kind of…um…production, is it?” Way to be articulate and not at all awkward, Rachel. Oh well. At least the subject was changed.
    Lee gave a quiet laugh and shook his head. “Not really, no.” He glanced up. “And I’m guessing I’m not your usual backup dancer?”
    It was my turn for a soft laugh. “No.”
    We exchanged a glance, then both dropped our gazes. I wasn’t sure what to say. How do you follow a conversation like that, especially when that conversation followed an almost-foot-massage from your porn star co-star?
    Buck stood. “Well, I’ll leave you alone.” He gestured at his own tight leather pants. “I need to change clothes myself before I suffocate.”
    I laughed again. “So I’m not the only one who can’t move or breathe?”
    “God, no.” He tugged at the collar of the painted-on shirt. “I’m not used to putting something like this on and leaving—” He stopped abruptly, his cheeks coloring again.
    “And leaving, what?”
    “Leaving it on,” he said.
    “What does— ooh . Right.”
    We looked at each other again and laughed.
    “Well,” I said. “I guess I should see if I can walk.”
    “Need a hand?”
    I didn’t know if I did or not, but at this point, I wasn’t going to turn him away, so when he extended his hand, I clasped mine around his forearm. Leather creaked on both of us as he helped me ease myself up out of my chair. I carefully tested my ankle before putting weight on it, and to my surprise, it wasn’t bad. Still very tender, but bearable.
    “Wow,” I said. “That feels so much better.”
    “Probably doesn’t hurt you’re out of those