The Cesare Special
Ifidgeted in the waiting room, twirling my thumbs against the soft white robe, experiencing the most unrelaxed fifteen minutes ever. Despite the tranquil Bali-inspired playlist and the soothing eucalyptus scent from the oil diffuser beside me, I was the most uptight I had ever been in my life.
Exhaling, I mentally told myself to stop spiralling. It was just a massage. If I wanted it to be more, I could make that decision for myself. There was no pressure. Yet I couldn’t help but let my gaze flick around the room at the three other women waiting as well. Were they horny little pleasure seekers like me?
A pretty woman wearing a navy spa tunic appeared and called another woman in for her facial. Okay. So, she wasn’t—unless it was a different kind of facial…
“Vivian,” a voice called, using the fake name that Allegra had booked me under, and I straightened my spine. Trust her to give me the name of our favourite prostitute fromPretty Woman. She thought she was hilarious. I blinked in surprise at the woman beaming at me in that polite but professional way. “Would you please follow me?”
I stood up, swallowing my nerves and pulling the rope on my robe tighter around my waist. I followed her down a winding corridor, with doors splintering off on both sides, some open and some closed. This all looked so legit. Frowning, I wondered if Allegra had been pranking me with this whole Cesare thing.
“Um, excuse me? I booked to have a massage with Cesare,” I whispered.
She glanced at me over her shoulder, that strained smile still plastered on her face. “Si. That’s right. He’s just finishing up with another client, but he won’t be long. Make yourself comfortable.”
Oh my god. Did she know? She knew. Did she?
She walked away, leaving me standing in front of a door. I glanced at the bamboo seat outside it. Did she mean I should make myself comfortable out here or in there?
Shit.
I sat down and twiddled my thumbs some more. I tried not to think aboutwhat the words ‘he’s just finishing up with another client’ meant. A few minutes passed, and I started to panic. Maybe I was meant to wait inside the room instead.
I knocked timidly on the door, but when there was no response, I opened it and stepped inside. The room was stunning. Red curtains draped from the ceiling in every direction, making it feel like you were inside a tent or… a womb. God, my brain worked in weird ways. But it was comforting, sensual, and instantly relaxing.
A single massage bed was placed in the centre with towels ready and one of those doughnut holes to shove your face through. I moved towards it, awkwardly glancing around at the shelves of scented oils and lotions and the flickering candles. The Bali playlist was louder in here, blocking out sounds from outside.Handy.
But it wasn’t loud enough to muffle the sudden clatter coming from behind the bamboo partition in the corner of the room. I spun around to see the shadow of a broad figure moving behind it. Excitement and anxiety tangled in my veins, thrumming a wild rhythm beneath my skin.
“Scusa,” I stuttered, hating how unsure I sounded. My Italian was fluent, but when I was anxious, I always switched to English. Hopefully, Cesare would understand. “I wasn’t sure if I should come in or not, and I waited outside, but I didn’t want to miss my appointment, so I–um–if you’re not ready for me, I can leave.”
The man’s large silhouette froze behind the screen. And when I say large, I mean…a perfectly sculpted giant. Even the shadow had muscles. It moved. Then it vanished, giving way to the person.
Holy shit.
I took one look at him and my lungs just…quit on me.
Somehow, he looked bigger than his shadow, standing well over 6 feet of chiselled muscle. And Christ,there was a lot on display. Bulging biceps, hard pecs, an eight-pack of insane abs, and a deep V, all exposed by the wonderful fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Only those flimsy navy uniform trousers hung low around his waist, leaving little to the imagination when the outline of his impressive dick brushed against them with each step. My mouth watered. I forced my gaze up to the ink marring his chest and arms. Then I remembered that this incredible body had to be attached to a head.
There’s ‘attractive’, and then there’s whatever species this man was—a rugged, masculine sort of beauty with dark eyes, a sharp jaw, and full lips. Black hair, not quite curly but more like gentle waves, fell across his forehead in a casual style that screamed effortless, yet I bet it was impeccably styled. It had to be.
Our eyes met, and instant cardiac chaos erupted. I took a step back and bumped into a small table behind me. A little gasp escaped my lips as I stumbled,limbs flailing in all directions.
“Sorry!” I squeaked, backing myself towards the door. The way he looked at me with such intensity made me want to run, but also throw myself at him. I’d never felt so conflicted in my life.
He tilted his head while one side of his lips quirked up into a lopsided, lazy smile.
“You’re here for a massage.”
His husky Italian accent sounded like a seductive drawl as he spoke in perfect English. I nodded, even though he had said it as a statement and not a question. He stepped forward and grabbed a towel from the bed, holding it up.
“Lie down. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
The authority he exuded left no room for argument, and it made my scalp tingle. Damn that voice and its commanding tone. With that much confidence, I bet no one ever denied him anything.
I moved towards the bed when he disappeared around the partition again, giving me some privacy to remove my robe.
I understood why that waiting room was so crowded with eager women wanting the Cesare Special.
