The Rub Down (2 page)

“I’ve had a massage before, but not a sports massage. What’s the difference?”

“A relaxation massage is just that. My strokes are slow and steady. When you walk away from the session, you feel refreshed and renewed.” I paused so she could absorb the information. “A sports massage is faster paced, and more precise. I combine several different methods, including deep tissue. The purpose is to prevent or treat injuries, relieve muscle aches, and increase flexibility.”

“That sounds like exactly what I need. I definitely don’t want an injury, and my muscles do ache.” She ran her hand across the linen-covered table.

Something about this woman had me hanging on her every word and my cock taking notice. She wasn’t saying anything profound, yet I was enraptured. I couldn’t wait to get my hands all over her. I wanted to make her body feel really good. Shaking my dirty thoughts away, I focused on getting my head in the game.

“So, do you have any questions for me?” When she shook her head, I folded back the covers. “I’m going to step out for a few minutes, so you can get ready. Take your time, and just try to relax.”

I left the room so she could get under the sheet and blanket on the heated table. Once in the hall, I rested against the wall, took a deep breath, and prayed her neck and back were the ugliest I had ever seen. The chances of that were slim, but some wishes did come true.

Alexa

When Jeff told me I needed to see his buddy for massages at a place called The Rub Down, I thought it was going to be some dump in Chinatown. The name sounded like a cheesy, dirty hole in the wall.

I was way off.

The Rub Down was a huge slice of serenity in the middle of one of the nicest areas in Boston. The moment I walked in, the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders. The place was magnificent with a soothing palette of ivories and soft pinks. Behind the reception desk was a water wall, and the sound of a rushing stream added to the calming environment.

Since it was my first time there, the receptionist, Jessica, gave me a quick tour, sharing her knowledge of the spa and the treatments they offered. Once she showed me how to work the complicated locks in the locker room, she left me to get ready for my massage. I stored my clothes and slipped on the most decadent ivory bathrobe with The Rub Down logo threaded in pink. The outer shell was microfiber, and the softest terry cloth cotton lining the inside caressed my skin. Saying a prayer that I would remember how to open the locker when I was finished, I walked into the Zen room to wait for my therapist.

If I thought the lobby was amazing, this room was heaven on Newbury Street. It hosted plush couches with fluffy throw pillows, and dim lighting blended the décor. A small stone table just inside the door held an urn of fruit infused water. Soft pan flute music played in the background. I could’ve stayed in this room all day. Zen was a perfect name for it.

Since I was early, I sat on the couch and relaxed to the point where I actually drifted off to sleep. When I heard my name, I blinked, and looking to where the voice came from, sucked in a breath. The man standing in the doorway was smoking hot. He should be a model, not a masseuse. And he was going to run his hands all over my body.

“Hello, Alexa. I’m Luke, your therapist, and I also own the place.”

He continued speaking, but I blanked out, entranced by his full lips. I couldn’t believe this man was going to be touching my body while I was practically naked.

“Sound good?”

I had no idea what he just asked, but I nodded in agreement.

When I saw Jeff this week, I was so going to hug him. The one time I had had a massage, my therapist was an older man who was talented, but not even close to being hot. Luke, on the other hand, was sex on legs. He stood at about six-foot-three and was all man. His light blue eyes were a soft, subtle color that made me want to stare at them all day. If he didn’t cover mine during the treatment, I was going to make a total fool of myself by gazing at him non-stop. A black t-shirt, with the spa logo over his left pec, hugged his biceps and chest. Peeking out from under the sleeve of his shirt was a little bit of ink. Curiosity piqued, I wondered what it was, and if more were hidden in other places. A man with tattoos was a huge turn on as long as the ink wasn’t huge, or a dumb one gotten during a drunken stupor. Desperate to see this man in all his glory, I wished the lights were brighter. His hair was shaved almost bare, and I wanted to rub my palms all over his head.

As I followed Luke to a room, I caught a glimpse of his tight ass in the black scrubs. The uniform looked as though it was tailored for his body, like the bespoke suit worn by every man in the Financial District. His firm ass begged me to bounce quarters off it. Since I put more stock in personality than looks, this instant attraction was not typical for me, but something about his body and his voice left me feeling a little dizzy. I wouldn’t be surprised if the attraction became more intense when he finally touched me.

After discussing my training with Luke, which included at least one sexual innuendo by me, it was finally time to get on the massage table. He made me nervous in a good, silly schoolgirl way. When he left the room, my nerves kicked into high gear. As much as I looked forward to the massage, having someone’s hands—male or female—all over your body, was such an intimate thing. My figure was a result of dancing my entire life, and now running. I was proud of it, and it was only natural that I hoped Luke appreciated what he saw.

I slipped out of my robe, crawled under the fresh sheet on the platform, and rested on my back as Luke had instructed. The heated table felt so good against my naked skin. My muscles immediately settled in. I heard a soft knock on the door. “I’m ready for you.” I slammed the heel of my hand to my forehead after realizing how suggestive my words sounded.

“Are you comfortable?” Luke asked softly as he closed the door behind him. The slight smirk on his face reached his eyes. He must have picked up on my subconscious flirting. “Let me slide this roll under your knees to alleviate some of the strain this position will cause.”

“Thank you, and yes, I’m very comfortable. I hope I don’t fall asleep and start to snore,” I said with a nervous giggle. Even though I was a confident woman, Luke made me ramble and sound stupid. I needed to stop talking and take a deep breath.

“I want you to relax as much as possible, so if you fall asleep, I promise I’ll wake you if you start to snore. But something tells me your snores would be adorable.”

A blush tinged my cheeks at his words. I was suddenly happy for the low lighting. His flirting helped me relax a little more.

“Okay, let’s begin. I need you to communicate with me about the pressure. If I’m pressing too hard, please, tell me. I don’t want you in more pain than when you came in. Same goes for if I’m too light,” he whispered in my ear. His low therapist's voice was even sexier than his regular one.

Goosebumps spread all over my body. He needed to stop talking, or my panties would soon be very wet.

Behind me, I heard him preparing his oils and moving the stool out of the way. Then I felt him standing right above my head.

“Today’s session will be more about relaxing your muscles, and in a few days, I want you to come in again, and we’ll do more of a deep tissue, sports massage. I want my hands to get used to the feel of your body, and you used to them,” Luke said. When his fingers finally made contact with my skin, I felt warm all over. “We will keep communication to a minimum, so you can lay there and just relax.”

“That sounds perfect,” I whispered. The sounds quieted me, and the smell of lavender and vanilla, two of my favorite scents, invaded my senses. Thank goodness, the music wasn’t typical nature noises. That stuff drove me crazy and most definitely was not relaxing. I always wanted to smash the damn crickets with my shoe. Instead, Sade seduced me with her honey voice while Luke seduced me with his hands.

I wanted to ask him questions – Why did he become a therapist? How long has The Rub Down been open? Does he run? – But forming a cohesive thought was impossible.

Soft, firm fingers soothed as he worked the top of my chest near my collarbone. A sweeping motion down to the top of my breasts drained all the tension from my body. Long, strong fingers kneaded and massaged my muscles, and it felt incredible. His fingers brushed the top of my cleavage, and I sucked in a short breath. The rhythmic motion of his hands sweeping down my chest, grazing my breasts, and then up and around the back of my neck, moved my long hair to the top of my head each time. As he worked my neck, a moan slipped out. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. It felt too good. I decided to enjoy Luke and pray I didn’t orgasm right there on the table.

*****

Luke

When I walked in and saw Alexa stretched out on my table, she looked so serene, like an angel in the dim lighting. I caught her little innuendo when I knocked, but needed to keep my head in the game. But her beauty was astonishing. Noticing her closed eyes, I walked around the table, taking her all in, ghosting my fingers along the table inches away from her body.

Ten minutes into the session, and I knew having Alexa as my client was going to be one of my biggest challenges in this business. Being a professional was something I always prided myself on. As I looked at Alexa, I needed to stay focused and not become caught up in her.

Once my hands were oiled up, I touched her skin for the first time. The finest silks in all of Asia didn’t feel this good. My hands swept down her upper chest, and my fingers grazed the top of her breasts. The sheet clung to them, creating an image that would star in my dreams tonight. They were bigger than a handful, and I had to fight not to linger too long. I didn’t usually start my clients facing up, but I knew if I worked her back first, I would be a goner. There was no way this beauty’s back was ugly.

I continued the sweeping motion of my hands down her upper chest, over her collarbone, and up her neck, to hold on to the pressure points right at the hairline. My cock stirred to life. Alexa’s neck was long and elegant. Her hair was as soft as her skin. As I listened to Sade, I heard something I’d hoped to, yet prayed I wouldn’t. Her moans. Many women over the years moaned while I gave them a massage–hell, some even orgasmed–but Alexa’s soft noises shook me more than anyone’s before her did.

I’m a professional damn it. Why is she affecting me like this?

After I worked her arms, I moved to her hands. They were delicate, long, and skinny as a pianist’s. Her dark purple nails, the color a stark contrast to her pale skin, looked like she had them done recently. The fact that she took such great care of herself was a sign of confidence and pride, an incredibly sexy trait in a woman. My hands dwarfed her small one, thumbs kneading the pressure points in her palm. It scared me how much I wanted to lace our fingers together and bring hers to my mouth for a soft kiss.

Shaking the image out of my head, I moved down her body. Lifting the sheet and blanket to reveal her left leg, I tucked them up to the V. I typically made sure the entire thigh was exposed, but I couldn’t with her. With the way my mind was wandering toward sex, the temptation was too much. I had never been inappropriate with my clients, and I didn’t want to start with Alexa.

Her legs were as muscular as they looked, and her calves perfectly shaped for her figure. They were smooth like they were freshly waxed. Why couldn’t she be one of the crunchy Cambridge types who refused to shave? Needing to get in the correct frame of mind, I asked softly, “How is the pressure?”

“It’s perfect,” she said in a quiet, sleepy voice.

Fuck, she sounded so sexy when she was relaxed. Okay, so conversation was not going to help me. I started thinking about Celtics stats and rejoiced in the renewed contract for David Ortiz.

My hands roamed her legs, and I applied a bit more pressure where I knew she was feeling some tightness. They kept a slow, steady motion up and down her muscles. Every time I reached the inside of her thigh, she released a soft moan. With each whimper, my cock got harder and longer. Thank God, she couldn’t see how turned on I was by her sounds.

I moved to her right side to finish her leg and arm. It was time to have her turn over onto her stomach. I inserted the headrest and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder before speaking close to her ear. “Alexa, it’s time to turn over.”

When I lifted the covers a little, she quickly rolled. No matter how much I wanted a glimpse of her breasts, I turned my head to give her privacy. Once she settled on her stomach, I lifted the covers and tucked them into her dark purple panties. If I had to guess, purple was her favorite color. As my gaze traveled down her exposed flesh to the small of her back, I sucked in a huge, audible breath. Not only did she have the sexy curve, but also two dimples—one over each ass cheek. Right above them was a small, beautifully scripted quote. This was not a tramp stamp. It was art.

“Is everything okay?” Alexa asked in response to my loud, unprofessional gasp.

I felt her body tense up, and immediately felt horrible. I laid a comforting hand on her shoulder to reassure her nothing was wrong.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Your tattoo is gorgeous. I wasn’t expecting to see ink on your body. What does it say?” I should have apologized and moved on, but I couldn’t resist asking.

“It says
j'aime qui je suis. It’s French for I like myself,” she whispered in a perfect French accent.

My fingers ghosted over the beautiful words, and I wondered why she chose that quote to permanently grace her flawless skin.

I added more oil and started on her extensor muscles. They were firm and long, and felt wonderful to my touch. I ran my hands down her back and dragged them slowly up the sides of her torso, unintentionally skimming her breasts as I reached the top. Every time I caressed her sensitive skin, Alexa let out a little puff of air. With every breath, my heart thumped a little faster.

For the rest of the massage, my mind wandered while my hands moved on autopilot.

Our time was coming to an end for the day, and I was ready to step away from her to get some space and gain some perspective. Between Sade in my ear and the smells of lavender and vanilla on her skin, my head was spinning. The weeks ahead of us were sure to be difficult. The thought of passing her off to Danny or any of the other guys crossed my mind, but I became irrationally angry at the thought of their hands all over her perfect body.

“Alexa, we’re finished for today. Take your time getting up. I’m going to step out and grab you a cup of water. I’ll be waiting outside the room when you come out,” I said as I drew the covers up, and rubbed her back one last time over the blanket.

“Thank you,” Alexa mumbled as I walked out.

When I shut the door behind me, I rushed to the water station, needing as much distance between us as possible. I chugged the first cup, filled it again, and took my time with this one as I remembered the feel of her skin. What I needed was a cold shower, but fancy, infused water would have to do. As much as I wanted to hang out, I needed to get back to Alexa and follow up on how she was feeling. I grabbed her a cup and walked to the room.