Clyde slowly stopped the rhythmic pressure of his hands.
For the past several minutes, he had been gently massaging Micah's calves and feet while the younger man lounged lazily across the couch. The quiet office had been filled only with the soft tick-tock from the wall clock and the faint hum of the air conditioner.
Micah had long since relaxed into the cushions, half-lying on his side with his legs stretched across Clyde's lap. The warmth of Clyde's hands and the steady pressure of the massage had made his muscles loosen one by one.
Satisfied that he had worked out the tension, Clyde carefully lowered Micah's foot back onto the couch.
"All done," he murmured. He began to rise from the couch, intending to return to the mountain of work waiting patiently on his desk. But before he could fully stand, something suddenly tightened around his waist.
Clyde froze.
