“You call that pressing?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Tristan growled.
“Up on the table.” Aiden stayed still and waited for Tristan to climb up on top of him. He didn’t.
“What?”
“Up! Straddle me, one knee on each side, and then you lean on your hands.”
“I can’t climb up there. The table won’t hold both of us.”
“Of course, it will. It’s built to handle lots of weight, and I’m on it all the time with my clients, leaning, pushing, pulling. It’ll hold.”
Tristan grumbled but got up on the table. For a moment, Aiden panicked. If anyone came in now, his reputation would be screwed. This was not professional.
Tristan placed his knees on either side of Aiden’s hips and balanced there without putting any weight on him. The faint rasp of his jeans against Aiden’s naked skin sent a shiver thro
