Healed by His Touch (2 page)

strokes, occasionally pausing to knead a

knot or apply direct pressure to an area

that was overly tight.

“How is this pressure?” Marco asked.

“Tell me if you would like more or less.”

“That feels so good,” Jessica

murmured through the face cradle. “The

pressure is perfect.”

He worked his way down her back, his

hands intuitively finding the tension built

during months of bickering over the

possessions that she and Daniel had

amassed during their 10-year marriage.

When their assets were finally divided,

Jessica would remain a very rich woman.

But she couldn’t help thinking that she

would gladly forfeit everything except the

country house to keep Marco massaging

her body.

Jessica felt warm liquid land on her

lower back and Marco’s hands reached

lower and lower, spreading the oil across

every inch of her skin. He reached beneath

the sheet and massaged her buttocks,

slowly circling the rounded orbs, again

and again.

Instinctively, Jessica relaxed her legs,

silently inviting Marco to enter the

opening between her cheeks. Slowly, he

slid his fingers in and out, skimming

across the puckered flesh and teasing the

space below.

Jessica’s groan caused Marco’s fingers

to retreat, halting the sweet sensations.

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice was

barely a whisper.

“No, please don’t.” Marco’s touch was

making her burn with desire and the last

thing she wanted was for him to stop.

But instead of returning to his previous

position, he removed the sheet that had

draped her legs and moved around toward

her feet. Warm oil was added to her right

leg and Marco let his hands slowly travel

from her slim ankle to her shapely calf and

up the back of her well-toned thigh.

As he reached the point where her leg

ended and the crease of her ass began, he

let one hand move up and over her hip

while the other hand slid toward her inner

thigh. Jessica’s legs opened a bit more

and Marco’s knuckles brushed over her

hairless mound, causing the flesh to swell

in response.

He returned to her ankle and repeated

the previous movements before switching

to her left leg for a similar motion. Each

time his knuckles grazed her core, she

longed for a deeper probing. But Marco

had other tantalizing ideas.

“It’s time to turn over,” he said in his

whispery voice. Jessica complied, letting

his strong arms guide her.

It occurred to her that she was now

fully exposed, which was something she

had never experienced during a massage

before. Part of her wished that Marco

would protect her modesty by replacing

the discarded drape. Another part was

grateful that her nakedness provided full

access to the areas that longed to be

touched.

“You are a very beautiful woman,”

Marco said. Jessica’s eyes were closed

but she could feel the heat in his words as

he assessed her body with approval.

She blushed. “Thank you.” Always be

polite. Daniel taught her that.

Jessica kept her eyes closed as Marco

added oil to her arms, working his magic

on her limbs. He paused at her left hand,

taking time to twirl the large diamond

solitaire and matching platinum band.

“I’m getting divorced,” Jessica offered.

“I am sorry.” Marco squeezed her hand

before moving to her chest area.

He worked on the tightness around her

neck and collar bone, smooth, rhythmic

strokes easing her pain . . . and some of

her sadness. Eventually, his warm hands

traveled to her breasts. He cupped them

firmly, squeezing with just the right

amount of pressure. He rolled her nipples

between his fingers and thumbs,

simultaneously bringing them to exquisite

attention.

A soft sigh escaped Jessica’s lips and

she ached for Marco to take her breasts

into his mouth, one after the other, using

his tongue to flick and tease.

He lingered, waiting for an indication

that she wanted more. But she stayed

silent.

Marco left her breasts and Jessica’s

breath quickened as his hands slid down

her belly, the oil he added creating a

warm, smooth path to her most private

places. He let a single finger dip into her

slit, mixing massage oil with her body’s

own lubrication. Her clit eagerly emerged

from its protective folds, longing for more

than passing attention. Jessica couldn’t

remember the last time she was this

aroused, but stopped herself from lifting

her hips to deepen the penetration of his

finger.

Coward!

Marco’s voice interrupted her

pleasure. “Tell me what you want,

Jessica.”

Release! I want sweet release!

“I . . . don’t know,” she finally said,

inwardly cursing her response. Daniel had

been the dominant one in their

relationship, telling her what to do and

how to do it, even in the bedroom. She

was used to taking directions, not giving

them.

In response, Marco continued his

superficial assault, turning his attention to

the top side of her legs and her feet. More

oil, more massaging, more subtle passes

across her moist mound. Not quite deep

enough or steady enough to bring her to

peak.

After a while, Marco’s touch lightened

and he moved back toward her head. He

cupped her face in his hands and leaned

forward to whisper in her ear. “Our time

is up. Shall I book you another

appointment a week from today?”

The burning between her legs began to

subside as she realized with

disappointment that her massage wasn’t

going to include a happy ending from

Marco. This time.

“Yes. Thank you,” Jessica replied, her

voice wavering.

“I’ll leave an appointment card for you

at the desk. Take as long as you need to

get dressed. My next appointment doesn’t

start for 30 minutes.”

She heard his footsteps walk toward

the door and stop. “Think about what you

want, Jessica. Next time, perhaps you will

trust me enough to ask for what you need.”

He left the treatment room and Jessica

was alone again. Lying naked on the table,

she thought about his words.

Think about what you want, Jessica . .

. perhaps you will trust me . . . ask for

what you need . . .

How could she make him understand

how completely Daniel had shattered her

trust? Or how good wives didn’t ask for

pleasure, they gave it? And why it wasn’t

proper for her to tell Marco that she

needed his fingers inside of her, slow and

sweet or hard and fast?

She reached between her legs, dipping

into the wetness and circling her bud of

desire. Raising her knees for leverage, she

thrust her hips forward to increase the

intensity. Pretending that her fingers

belonged to Marco, she finished the job he

started, biting her lip to stifle a moan as

she climaxed.

When her breathing slowed, she got

dressed, touched up her make-up and

smoothed her hair. Slipping a $100 bill

under a book on the desk, she exited the

room and headed toward the reception

area to pay for her service and pick up her

appointment card.

***

Marco was captivated by his newest

client. When he saw on his appointment

calendar that she was referred to him by

Angela Valentine, he expected another

bossy billionaire’s wife looking for

expensive foreplay. But instead of a rich

bitch seeking adventure with a Latin lover,

he found someone more complex.

On the surface, she was a polished ice

princess with flawless skin, manicured

nails and long blonde hair. Yet the subtle

clues he gathered during their time

together hinted that there was more to

Jessica Duncan than designer clothes, an

expensive bag and a large diamond on her

left ring finger that screamed, “Married to

money!”

Marco was rarely aroused by clients.

When he was working, he usually

achieved a certain level of detachment,

approaching the person on his table as

flesh and bone in need of healing - one

way or another. But thinking about

Jessica’s creamy white breasts and warm,

moist center made him instantly hard.

Underneath her smooth “Miss

Manners” exterior was smoldering

sensuality and a curvaceous body built for

lovemaking. She had responded to his

touch in a way that no other client had,

even the insatiable Angela Valentine. He

knew she was close to climaxing on

several occasions and it took every ounce

of his self-restraint to not push her over

the edge.

Not unless she asked.

Whoever put that ring on Jessica’s

finger had hurt her. Deeply. Marco vowed

that he would find a way to heal her pain

and break through the icy barrier that

stopped her from accepting his ultimate

pleasure.

***

“You look like the cat that ate the

canary,” Angela commented at lunch the

next day. The two women were having a

leisurely meal on the outdoor deck at the

club, nibbling salads and sharing a bottle

of chardonnay. “I take it things went well

with Marco?”

“He was everything you professed,”

Jessica replied with a smile.

“Glad to hear it.” Angela sipped her

wine, adding, “His hands have done

wonders for my marriage.”

“Really?” Jessica was confused. “Isn’t

seeing Marco a little bit like cheating on

Russell?”

“Oh, god no!” Angela seemed

genuinely horrified. “I made it clear right

from the start that I loved my husband and

wasn’t looking to have an affair.” Jessica

was somehow relieved, but still confused.

“The first time I saw Marco,” Angela

explained. “I told him I wanted to leave

his table completely relaxed and horny as

hell. That’s exactly what I got then and

what I’ve continued to get, week after

week. When I go home after one of

Marco’s massages, Russ and I fuck like

rabbits.” Angela paused to take another

sip of wine. “Honestly, Jess, our sex life

hasn’t been this good in years.”

“Does Russell know that Marco makes

you hot?” The second glass of wine had

increased Jessica’s curiosity and loosened

her lips.

“Of course. It’s a fantasy thing for him.

He loves the thought of another man

getting my engine started as long as he gets

to drive me home. If Marco made house

calls, Russ would probably put him on

retainer.”

Jessica pondered her friend’s

response, wishing she was uninhibited

enough to ask Marco for what she wanted,

and wondering what, exactly, that was.

“Are you seeing him again?” Angela

asked.

Jessica nodded. “Next week.” She had

six more days to figure out what she

wanted - and gather the courage to

verbalize her desires.

***

Jessica slept poorly that night,

dreaming in fragments and waking every

few hours drenched in sweat. She chalked

it up to too much morning sun followed by

afternoon wine. At one point, her dreams

carried her back to another time, when she

and Daniel were young lovers.

“Let’s try something new,” he said

with a wicked grin, waving a handful of

silk scarves seductively back and forth.

The motion reminded Jessica of the

deliberate swish of a cat’s tail just

before the pounce.

Daniel sensed her fear, he always did.

As he walked closer, she could see that

his pupils were dilated. Her fear excited

him.

“Do you trust me?” he asked,

wrapping the scarves around her neck

and using them as a tether to draw her

closer.

“Yes.” She wasn’t sure if she did, but

it was the obedient answer he expected.

Daniel kissed her softly on the lips.

“Finish undressing for me,” he

commanded. She was already stripped to

her underclothes, so discarding her lace

bra and matching thong didn’t take long.

“You waxed it all away,” Daniel said,

clearly pleased as he reached out and

stroked her.

“You asked me to,” Jessica

responded, trying not to recall the

intense pain of her first Brazilian.

“Now I’m asking you to trust me.”

Jessica always did what Daniel asked.

He led her to the four-poster bed and

motioned for her to lie down. He didn’t

explain what he was going to do with the