With trembling hands, I removed my robe, revealing one of Allegra’s borrowed bikinis, and climbed onto the massage table.Oh my God, calm the f down, Aria.This was his job. And I could have a massage and leave—no funny business. But even the thought of his hands on my skin was spreading heat between my legs.
I lay down, taking a few deep breaths and placing my face in the doughnut hole, wriggling around until I found a comfortable position.
When I heard the padding of his bare feet against the floor, moving towards me, my pulse skyrocketed.
He headed towards the shelves where the oils were and then stopped by the side of the bed. I tried to control my breathing as he carefully rolled the towel I had draped over my back down to my waist.
“Signorina,” he husked, his voice so deep that it sank into my bones. I swallowed and lifted my face out of the hole, feeling slightly lightheaded.
“Mm?”
“Can you remove your necklace? I don’t want to get oil all over it.”
“Oh,” I gasped, surprised he’d be so considerate. No one had ever asked me to remove jewellery for a massage before. I lifted my arms, fiddling awkwardly with the clasp at the back as I tried to balance and arch, pushing my torso against the bed.
“Needsome help?”
Heat rushed through me, my heart stumbling over itself the moment his fingers brushed mine. Sparks ignited in my stomach as I let him take the lead, leaning over me and removing the necklace with a gentleness I would never have expected from someone so…manly. He placed it on the small table, his thumb nudging the antique sapphire locket as he husked, “Pretty.”
I chewed my bottom lip when his dark eyes met mine. Was he saying the locket was pretty or me? Those shots had gone to my head. He was obviously referring to the locket.
“Oh,grazie. It was my mother’s.”
He gave me that lopsided smile again, his dark eyes twinkling with something that made my insides flare. I couldn’t get over how gorgeous he was. But something dark and mysterious was lurking beneath the surface that gave him an edge—a warning. He didn’t fit the masseur image at all. He looked too wild. Too untamed for a job so serene. But then again, I’d never met a male masseur, so what the hell did I know?
I placed my face back in the hole when he nodded towards it. Moments later, I felt a tug on the string of my bikini top. I held my breath as he pulled the lacing out from the bow on my back and did the same to the one around my neck. After the oil cap clicked open, he worked the slick liquid into his hands.
Breathe, Aria, breathe. This is supposed to relax, not excite.
The moment his massive hands swept across my shoulder blades, I nearly released an embarrassing moan. I bit my lower lip and closed my eyes, fighting to keep more sounds from escaping. His hands weren’t soft like I’d expected. They were slightly rough and calloused, mixed with the silky oil, which only made the experience so much more sensual.
“Are you from England? Here on holiday?” he asked. His fingers kneaded into my back muscles with undeniable strength; every glide, every move, controlled yet flawless. His fingers inched down my side as he pushed up towards my shoulder, caressing my side boob, and my mind wandered to unholy places. My God, would it be so bad to have this man give me a happy ending? Would I earn my seat in hell? I’d definitely need to repent for my sins. But surely, some sins are worth repenting?
“Actually, no. I was born in Italy, but moved to England when I was younger because my parents separated. I’ve been living in Rome for a few years now.”
“And what made you move back?”
“Mypapistill lives here. Unfortunately, my mother passed away, so I moved back here to be close to my father.”
“Sorry to hear that. That must have been a hard transition. But do you like it here?”
“I love it.”
“You’re very tense,” he said, his thumbs working up the nape of my neck,his fingers caressing around the sides. The image of this man giving me a hand necklace came to mind. Yeah, I was going to hell. “Try to relax, beautiful.”
My stomach swooped. Did I hear that right, or did I imagine it? Was he flirting with me? Was that part of the Cesare Special?
“Sorry,” I muttered to the floor.
He chuckled darkly; the sound made me tingle all over. “You apologise too much.”
“Oh. Sor–”
I stopped myself when his hands moved down my lower back, his thumbs massaging into the top of my ass, dipping beneath my bikini bottoms. Oh, that felt unfairly good. His hands were magic. Whatever they paid him wasn’t enough. This experience alone was already the best I’d ever had at any spa.
He rolled half of the towel over my leg, exposing the other to him. I licked my lips, suppressing a moan as his hands massaged the oil into my thighs and down my calves. When he reached my feet, he gently lifted one and placed it against his rigid torso as he squeezed it with his large, powerful hands before pulling my toes. The fantasy of him taking my toe in his mouth and twirling his hot tongue around it came to the forefront of my mind. And then I was thinking about his tongue and what else it could do.
“Is the pressure good for you?” he husked, and I swear his voice was deeper than before, tinged with a sultry darkness. “Hard enough?”
