“Hi, Cindy; that shouldn't be a problem. I have an opening for either a one- or two-hour massage from 1 to 3 p.m. or time for a one-hour massage after 4 p.m.; which would they prefer?”
“Let me ask,” Cindy said. I could hear her conferring in muffled tones with the customer. Then, she came back on the line. “He'd like to do a two-hour massage at one o'clock.”
“Great, I'll pencil him in. What's his full name?”
“Christian Wall.”
“Excellent. I'll be waiting for him. I'm assuming you can give him directions to find me?”
“Of course.” She lowered her voice. “But can I just say, you don't sound very excited.”
I frowned, wondering what she expected. Did she think I'd never given a massage to a guy before or something? “I assure you, Cindy, I'm excited about all of my customers, new and returning,” I said.
“All right,” Cindy said, not sounding convinced.
“My first client has just walked in the door, so you'll have to excuse me,” I said. “But you can tell Mr. Wall that I'm looking forward to seeing him this afternoon.”
That afternoon, I hurriedly finished up the paperwork just before Christian came into the shop. Finally, I thought. God, I hated paperwork.
I looked up as the bells chimed over the door, and my breath caught in my throat. Man, oh man, was he gorgeous. He had dark hair that he had styled into a swept back, messy do. He was muscular, and he had tattoos swirling down his right arm. And those hazel eyes… I swallowed hard.
But the thing of it was, he no doubt knew that he was gorgeous, and he probably had an ego the size of the planet. I couldn't stand guys with huge egos. Anyway, at the moment, he was just another customer.
“Hi, and welcome to Paradise Massage,” I said. “I'm Gretchen, and I'll be your masseuse today.”
The guy gave me a once-over, and I could practically see the gears turning in his head. Yeah, he probably thought I was just dying to drop my panties for him. He could think again.
“I don't do happy-ending massages,” I warned him before he could even get something like that in his mind.
He blinked at me for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Oh shit,” he said. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be that obvious about it. Just, you're pretty hot, and I've probably just got this whole thing off on the wrong foot.”
“Here's your robe,” I told him frostily, holding out the garment. “If you want to go change in the room there, I'll be in in a moment to get started.”
The man grimaced. “Do I have to wear these?” he asked. “I always find it's better to get a massage without clothes in the way.” I frowned at him, wondering just where he got off. But he held up both hands. “That's not a come-on, I just actually feel that way,” he said defensively. “And I have a lot of tension that needs to be worked out, so I want the best.”
I sighed and finally relented. It wasn't as though he was some old pervert asking if I'd give him a naked massage, after all. And I was kind of curious to see what those abs looked like without a shirt in the way. “Fine,” I said. “But don't tell anyone that I do this, okay? I keep a pretty upscale clientele, and I don't need anyone getting uncomfortable or thinking that I do more than I do, okay?”
“My lips are sealed,” Christian said. “I hope it goes without saying, but you won't tell anyone about this either, will you?”
“Who would I tell?” I asked, baffled. “Unless your girlfriend or someone is going to come in here tomorrow and ask about this, no, this goes no further than between us.”
Christian snorted. “I don't have a girlfriend,” he said.
“I don't have a boyfriend either,” I said. Then, I bit my lip. Jesus, why had I said that? He so didn't need to know that. And he didn't need another reason to hit on me.
“I'll just go strip down, then,” Christian said, nodding toward the other room. “Come in when you're ready.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten, wondering how he had me this riled up already. I wasn't even sure if I was upset with him or lusting after him. It was a very strange, chaotic mix of feelings inside of me.
I entered the massage room, glad to find that he had laid down on his stomach first. It didn't mean that he wasn't going to roll over later in the massage and give me a full view of his manhood. But for now, maybe I could concentrate and get into the rhythm of the thing, remember that he was just another client.
“So, you're here in Hawaii on vacation, then?” I asked quietly, beginning to work my way up his body, feeling for the points that would need special attention. I paused when I reached his lower back, and it cracked in four places before I'd even really started adding pressure. “God, you're tight.”
“Aren't I supposed to be saying that?” he asked. But his voice sounded fuzzy and a bit blissed-out already. “Yeah, I'm just here on vacation. I live in New York. The city, not the state.”
“Oh. Nice. What do you do there?”
He let out a tight sigh. I wondered if maybe he was one of those people who didn't like to talk while having a massage. But then, he gave a little shrug of his shoulders. “I'm in real estate.”