The Masseuse (2 page)

“Don’t you have friends to ease your tension?”

She shook her head. Work was her life. She had a sister, with whom she was close, and a few select friends she saw a few times a year, but work had always been priority. Even with Kirk… She dismissed the thought. There was no use going down that road again. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.”

Jezebel snorted. Was he a walking ad for the place?

He continued to work her lower back, his thumbs pressing hard and releasing, before he spoke again. “You keep your tension in your lower back, your shoulders...”

When his oily hands cupped her bottom, Jezebel gasped and lifted her head.

“Easy,” Ramsey said softly. “I’m a professional.”

Before she could speak, his fingers were kneading her buttocks. Jezebel tensed, unsure of how she felt about this. She’d never had a masseuse touch her naked buttocks, not because the option hadn’t been available, but because...well, it was her buttocks—her big, private ass, and she was selective about who touched it.

“Relax, Jezebel,” Ramsey murmured. “You’re tensing up.”

She blinked. “That’s because you’re touching my butt.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He slowed his kneading to an almost sensual caress.

No
.

Jezebel placed her face back in the face rest and closed her eyes. She was thinking too much again. It was a massage. Just a massage.

“Where do you work?” Ramsey asked after minutes of his firm touch.

“A hedge fund,” she murmured, allowing his voice to take her mind from what he was doing to her bottom.

“Ah, a financial executive?”

She chuckled. “How’d you figure?”

“Lucky guess.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Yes.” His touch grew firmer. “You’re obviously used to being in control and your manner speaks to it.”

“Are you calling me bossy?”

He chuckled. “I’m saying you know what you want and you aren’t afraid to set a person down for it.”

She thought about how she’d torn into him for being late and almost apologized. It wasn’t his fault after all. She decided she’d leave a sizeable tip. The man was quite talented.

Gradually, Jezebel allowed her body to go jelly, closing her eyes and basking in his strong, yet gentle touch. When his fingers gripped her buttocks and pulled, the pads digging into her, she moaned as pleasure jolted straight to her sex, before biting her lip.

No. No. No.

“I’m sure the tension in my ass is all gone by now,” she stated.

Ramsey laughed and removed his hands. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve had a massage.” She sighed.

He chuckled. “Roll over.”

“I’m not a dog, you know.”

“I know.” He feathered a hand down her back, pausing just before his fingers touched her bottom. “Please roll over, Jezebel.”

A towel draped along her back and she was grateful. As she shimmed to turn over, she quipped, “I like when you say please.”

“I figured.” She peeped up at him when she was on her back, the towel draped over her breasts and unnecessarily warm sex. He gave her an easy smile. “Now, I’m going to ease the tension on this side of your body.”

Because she expected magic from him by now, it came as no surprise. He worked her upper shoulders, before moving down to upper arms, her fingers, her upper thighs. She was falling into a light doze when his voice caressed her ear. “I’m going to remove the towel now.”

Her eyes flew open to find him watching her with a brow raised, as if patiently waiting for her protest.

“You can choose not to have this part of the massage, Jezebel, but I would strongly recommend it for a woman in your field.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What does
this part
include?”

He never took his gaze from hers. “A massage of your belly, your shoulders, your breasts...”

She blinked rapidly. Her breasts? “You do this for all of your clients?”

He nodded. “Every one of them.”

Reluctantly, she placed both hands at her sides. It was a full body massage after all. And if he did it for everyone else, she shouldn’t feel strange at all, despite the fact that no one had touched her this intimately in close to a year—more than a year considering her last relationship had ended way before they actually broke up. “Okay, go ahead.”

He smiled softly and nodded. Slowly, he removed the towel and rather than stare up at those dark onyx eyes of his, Jezebel closed her eyes and tried to relax.

The first touch of his fingers to her belly made her gasp. After a few soft caresses, she thought about telling him to stop. This wasn’t easing any tension. In fact, it was creating significant tension just a few inches lower...

His oiled fingers slithered up to her breasts, gently massaging around one, and slowly building up to the nipple. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to stop, that this was too intimate, when he asked, “Do you work-out?”

Grateful for the distraction, she nodded.

“How often?” His hands closed around her breasts, lightly squeezing them and she bit the inside of her lip to keep from whimpering. Seriously? She, the consummate professional, was getting turned on by a man doing his job? How ridiculous was she going to get before this massage was over?

“Weekly.”

His hands moved back to her belly, sliding over her it before moving to further down.

“Ramsey, I don’t think—”

“Once? Twice?” His hands eased one of her legs out so that it bent at the knee and the sole of one foot touched her inner thigh.

Her eyes flew open. “What are you doing?”

He released her, holding up his oily palms and smiling reassuringly. “I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”

“What were you going to do?”

“Massage the muscles at your upper thigh.”

Jezebel nodded slowly and willed herself to relax. She was supposed to be easing tension not having an apoplectic fit. His fingers whispered over her hip before moving to her upper thigh. “You’re tense again.”

That’s because his finger was a hair away from her sex and the massage had left her feeling very...stimulated.

His onyx eyes caught hers and he lifted a brow. Jezebel closed her eyes again. He was a professional. She was being silly.

“So, how often do you exercise?”

“Are you called me fat?” she bit out. She wasn’t stick thin, but she was healthy at 5’7, 145 pounds.

“If I did, I’d be lying.” His warm fingers gently rotated against her thigh. “I was only curious because you’re in great shape.”

“Twice during the work week, and if I have time, on Sunday evenings.”

“For how long?”

“Two hours usually.”

“That’s good.” He straightened her leg and moved to the other. “Do you go to a gym?”

“No.” She moaned when his fingers stroked her in a way that made her forget where she was. “I have an exercise room...in my house.”

“Ah,” he murmured. “Well, to ease tension, you should try going to the spa in the gym weekly.”

Jezebel chuckled. “Do you have black female friends?” Opening her eyes, she found him peering down at her curiously. “My hair is straightened. A day in that overheated place would turn me into a poodle.”

He grinned. “Straighten it again when you’re finished.”

“I’ll take that as a no, you do not have black female friends.”

Ramsey only lifted a brow and moved away. She heard the sound of the pipes running and then heard him wiping his hands. Jezebel sighed. Was it over, she wondered with a little frown. She’d have to start making regular appointments here.

He appeared above her again, and she heard the clinking of bottles.

“Ramsey,” she began, about to tell him to give her his card and the dates he was available, when his hand brushed her sex.

She froze, the words clogging in her throat as a finger stroked over her clitoris.

Jezebel blinked up at him in shock, but he wasn’t even looking at her. He was staring directly at her exposed flesh, his expression one of intense concentration and something else, something hot. When his thumb pressed against her, Jezebel almost cried out and begged for more before she remembered where she was and why this was
not
happening.

She snapped her legs closed, trapping his tanned hand between her dark thighs. Licorice- colored eyes touched hers. She shook her head once. “No.”

“You still have tension, Jezebel,” he reminded, but she caught the flash of something hot in those eyes.

She shook her head again, this time more furiously. “No, Ramsey.”

They remained like that, staring at each other for long moments, before he nodded. “May I have my hand back?”

Jezebel unlocked her thighs and he stepped away. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. She wasn’t that desperate yet to get laid in a spa. As she remained there, her sex pulsed. Confused, she sawed her thighs together, which only made her feel warmer. Her button grew warm, then hot… Instantly, her nipples peaked, and she could feel her sex growing moist.

“Is everything okay?” Ramsey asked from beside her. The smirk on his face told her he’d done something to make her this way.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

“I only wanted to ease your tension,” he began. “It’s red cream.”

“What?” She moaned and sawed her thighs together as her sex began to demand more. “What the hell is red cream?”

“It aids in relaxation. It’s also used for the pleasures of the flesh.” He looked down at her breasts. “May I?”

“No!” she hissed angrily. “Don’t touch me.”

He stepped away. “You can always touch yourself, Jezebel.”

As her body bucked, Jezebel shook her head and moaned. “Oh my God.” What the hell was in the stupid red cream?

“Touch yourself,” Ramsey instructed. “The sooner you ease the ache, the sooner it will stop.”

“Get out!”

He sighed. “This is all a part of the experience. I know you enjoy being in control but you have to let go at some point.”

His footsteps moved away and between the sweet ache and her need, she managed to gasp out, “Wait!”

The pipe turned on and she breathed a sigh of relief. He was washing his hands. When he returned, the glass bottles clinked again, and then he asked one question, “Will you allow me to ease you?”

What did that mean? Jezebel wondered before she shook her head. She didn’t care. She wanted…she wanted to come. “Yes.”

At her acceptance, two of his fingers were pressed deep and she mewled, arching into his hand. His free hand went to her belly, holding her down, and then his fingers moved. Slowly, but surely, they thrust into her wet sex, curling forward to rub against her secret spot…

“Oh my God!” she moaned, moments before a series of shocks traveled through her body. He halted all movement, and smiled down at her, but then his fingers moved again, faster this time, and his thumb found her clit.

“Ugh!” The tension built again. The hand at her belly moved, and was suddenly cupping, stroking, pulling at her breasts. “Oh...oh...Ramsey!”

“Almost there,” he encouraged, his voice husky and low. She’d never heard anyone sound that sexy. “Come...come now, Jezebel.”

She did, crying out as her belly tightened, her hips pushed off the table, before falling limply back onto it.

His fingers left her and she gasped, sucking in much-needed oxygen as she tried to figure out what had just happened. The water turned on again, and she lifted to her elbows to stare at him. When he turned to face her, the great bulge at the front of his pants made her feel a bit better.
Good.
So she hadn’t been the only one affected.

Ramsey gave her a pained smile as he towel dried his hands. For the first time, she paid attention to them. His fingers were long with short, blunt nails: clean, masculine hands.

“There’s a bathroom to your left,” he said in that husk-tinged voice. He indicated the bathroom with a nod of his head. “Take a shower first, the bath gel was left out for you, and then soak in the tub for fifteen minutes.”

She only stared at him.

Ramsey nodded and turned to leave.

“Are you serious?” she demanded. He turned back to her with a lifted brow. “That’s it?”

“I’m sorry?”

“That’s it?” she repeated.

He nodded slowly and looked above her head. “It’s been an hour and ten minutes, Jezebel. That’s all the time we have for today.”

An hour ten minutes? Her eyes widened. He smiled. How old was he anyway? He looked young, like he was younger than thirty, but there was something in his eyes, something that told her he’d seen things most hadn’t, had the type of wisdom that came with it. He seemed to be one of those slow agers too, with tight skin.

Pushing aside her embarrassment at what he’d just done to her, she boldly forged ahead, “Do you have a card?”

Ramsey seemed surprised but smiled his pleasure. He shook his head. “We aren’t all as prepared or sophisticated as you.”

“What days do you work?”

“Would you like another
full body massage
with me?”

She stared at him long and hard before nodding. “Yes.”

He smiled. “I work daily.”

“Are you free next week?”

“I’ll find time for you.”

Jezebel blushed, and then grew angry with herself. Why was she acting like this? She wasn’t a teenager with her first crush. She was an adult, and this was just like any other…transaction. She knew what she wanted; he knew what he could give her.

Pushing from the table, she wrapped the towel around her nakedness, though at this point, it didn’t even matter. The man had had his fingers inside her, for crying out loud. Modesty had been pushed out the window and wasn’t crawling back in anytime soon.

“Leave your number at the front desk,” she instructed. “I’ll call you to make another appointment.”

He dipped his head. “I’m glad you enjoyed our first time together.”

“I did.” She saw no need to hide the fact. Despite her reservations, he already knew just how much she’d enjoyed it. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Jezebel was at the bathroom door when she looked over her shoulder at him. He was staring at her, the expression on his face so intense she wondered if she’d imagined it when she blinked and found it gone. “You’re not married, are you?”