Never Say Never (The Ladies Who Brunch 1)

The blonde winces. “I’m sorry, but Miss Montgomery is a very busy lady and her schedule is quite full. I can speak with her secretary and see if we can make you an appointment?”

Now it’s time to turn on the charm.

I lean forward, bracing my forearms on the counter, getting as close to the woman as possible so she can sense my sincerity, but not too close that she thinks I’m actually interested in her. “I’m sure you can do me this tiny favor, right? I mean, I haven’t seen Charlotte since we were kids. When I found out she works just a few blocks away from me, I had to come by and say hello. It’s not every day that two people who grew up together on the opposite side of the country end up working only three blocks away from each other, am I right?”

“Oh my gosh. That’s incredible,” she squeals.

“Exactly. And I know she’s going to be just as excited to see me as I am to see her.” I hope she doesn’t have any sharp objects in her office though, on second thought.

Shaking her head, she relents. “Okay. I can’t let this reunion pass you two by. Go on ahead. Her office is down the hallway on your right, last door on the left.”

“You’re a peach.” Another wink, and then I stand up again and straighten my suit out. “Thank you, Emily,” I say as I glance at her name plate on the counter by the computer.

“Of course. I hope you two reminisce for hours.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll have plenty to discuss.”

With a pep in my step and satisfaction running through me, I head in the direction Emily told me to go, anxious to get this initial meeting over with. As I turn down the hallway, I catch glimpses of several offices, all with frosted glass windows so the outlines of people are visible, but no details can be determined.

The door to Charlotte’s office is open, so I step inside to see a large room, complete with a small kitchenette to my right, a few couches around a coffee table to my left, and a desk in the center of the room, with a closed door behind it.

As I walk up to the desk, I realize this is where her secretary sits, since the name plate in front of me obviously doesn’t show hers. Grateful for one less person to have to go through to get to the girl, I step around the desk and head for the frosted glass door that closes off Charlotte’s office from this room.

Blowing out a nervous breath, I raise my hand and knock on the door, awaiting an acknowledgment from the other side.

“Come in,” a voice calls back, a voice that just hearing again has my veins pumping blood through my body at a faster rate.

I twist the knob and push open the door, fully expecting to see Charlotte sitting behind her desk like a queen on her throne, ready to smite any peasants that step foot in front of her. But that’s not what I see at all.

The chair behind her desk is empty, but I know she’s in here. I heard her voice.

And that’s when my eyes veer to the left to find Charlotte face down on a massage table, with a sheet covering her lower half, and nothing else.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Seriously?

“Running late today?” she asks, pulling me from the panic attack I’m having as my feet remain frozen in place.

What should I say? She clearly thinks I’m the massage therapist here for her massage.

“Let’s get going, please. I have a meeting in an hour and don’t want to be late.” She snaps her fingers in the air, but keeps her head down in the hole for her face.

Not sure what to do without giving myself away, I decide to deepen my voice at a poor attempt at disguise and just go along with this charade, slowly closing the door behind me. “Uh, yeah. Sorry about that. I had trouble finding the place.”

“Wait? You’re not Sonya,” she says, lifting her head up slightly, preparing to come face to face with me. But I don’t want her to see me. Not like this.

Then what the fuck are you going to do, Damien?

I guess I’m giving her a massage, subconscious.

Practically running across the room, I press my hand to the back of her head, holding her in place.

“What the…”

“Just relax. Don’t move. This is your time. Seeing me will ruin the illusion of the ambiance.” What am I even saying?

She sighs. “Okay, I guess you’re right. I really need this. Let’s get going, shall we?”

“Absolutely.”

I’ve never given a massage in my life, but how hard can it be?

I look to my side and notice a table with oils and lotions on top, and a few hot towels in a warmer. Damn, it must be nice to have these types of perks at your job. Perhaps I need to talk to Dave about in-office massages for all of the employees. Maybe after I earn this promotion.

“Is it okay for me to use these oils?”

“That’s what they’re there for. I always supply the products I like so Sonya doesn’t have to take the price of them out of her commission.”

“Well, that’s thoughtful of you.” Huh. Didn’t expect something like that from Charlotte given she’s receiving a massage in the middle of the day at her place of employment. If that doesn’t scream high maintenance, I don’t know what does.

“Sonya is a godsend when it comes to my sciatic pain, and the lower back issues I’ve been having. So I hope you’re up for the challenge.”

“I’m always up for a challenge,” I reply, forgetting to mask my voice for a moment since that competitive edge I always get around her slams right back into me, just like old times.

“Are you going to start?” she asks, slightly annoyed, yet reminding me of what I have to follow through now that I committed to this.

“Oh. Yes, of course.” I reach for the oil, but then think twice about removing my jacket and rolling up my sleeves before I begin. The last thing I need is to go back to the office covered in oil stains that probably won’t come out of this suit. At least I’ll smell good though.

After I shuck my jacket and roll up my sleeves of my white button-down to my elbows, I squirt some oil in my hands, lather them up, and gently press my palms to Charlotte’s back, trying to recall every feeling and memory of getting a massage I’ve ever had in my life—which hasn’t been that many, unfortunately.

“Here.” She lifts up slightly, moving her long hair to the side, exposing her neck. And as she does and I get even more of a glimpse of her silky skin, it finally hits me—I’m fucking massaging Charlotte Montgomery.

Hell has to have frozen over for this woman to allow me to touch her.

Newsflash, she doesn’t actually know it’s you, fucker.

Battling my internal dialogue, I slowly start to move my hands up and down her back, making a trail that starts at the base of her spine and then moving my hands out along her shoulder blades as I work my way up, pressing deeply to loosen up her muscles. A sunflower tattoo covers one of her shoulder blades, instantly bringing forth memories of a younger version of her walking down the halls of our school with her backpack covered in the same flower.

I focus back on kneading her muscles, and she definitely feels stiff.

Yeah, seems like other things are getting stiff now too.

She’s so soft and this oil smells fucking amazing, like peaches and cream, with a hint of mint.

As I brush my knuckles over her neck to the base of her skull where it meets her spine, she lets out a moan, and through no fault of my own, my dick fucking twitches.

What the actual fuck?

“That feels so good. You can go harder if you like.”

Tipping my head back, I stare at the ceiling, clenching my jaw in agony as her words stir up other settings where those words coming out of her mouth would be music to my ears.

But that’s the last thing I should be thinking about. Hell, that’s not something I’ve ever thought about Charlotte up until this moment.

This is not how this reunion was supposed to go.

But I’m knee deep in this predicament, so I might as well give one-hundred percent. I’m no quitter, and I’m not starting now. Besides, it will be worth every ounce of shock on Charlotte’s face if she ever finds out about this.

With renewed purpose and delight in pulling this off without her knowing, I get to work and rub the woman down, seeing just how many moans I can get to escape from her lips.

“Are you new to this?” she asks, halfway through the hour.

“Actually, yeah. Today is my first day.” Not a lie, technically.

“Well, you’re doing amazing. I’ll make sure to give you a glowing review.”

“I appreciate that.” A good ‘grade’ from Charlotte Montgomery? Oh, this is going to make her face turn beet red. I can’t fucking wait.

“Would you mind moving down to my sciatic now?” she asks, reaching behind her and shoving the sheet south, exposing her ass to me.

And fuck me sideways—seeing it in person after admiring it the other day is making my slacks tent up faster than a clown coming out of a Jack-in-the-Box.

Her black, silk thong is perfectly situated between luscious mounds of flesh, the kind that a man like me loves to smack just so I can see it turn red from my hand. And it’s not just her ass that is perfect—no, her entire bottom half has filled out into womanly curves that only a grown man can appreciate.

No offense to the naturally skinny women, but this man here loves some meat to grab onto. I want a woman that has some weight to her, that embraces her body and isn’t afraid to let me see all of it—stretch marks, cellulite, and everything in between. It’s those curves and that meat that make me lose my fucking mind.

And Charlotte’s body—well, at least her backside—fits the bill for what turns me on the most.

Glancing down, I realize my dick is completely unaware that we’re supposed to be flying under the radar, so I’m forced to push my hips back slightly as I hover over her so she doesn’t feel my third arm poking her too, if you catch my drift.

When I first touch her ass, I have to fight my own moan from leaving my lips. Her muscles are toned, but not overly so, and her skin is smooth and blemish free—it’s a sight I’ll never forget as long as I live.

Jesus, now I’m thinking about envisioning her butt as I jerk off later. God, help me, please.

“Yes, right there.”