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My nipples stiffened, his comment reminding me that I was about to touch him for the first time. Feeling flustered, I cleared my throat. “Very funny. And don’t worry. I’m never touching a damn thing in your office again.”
“Okay.” He got up from his seat, taking my empty glass to the counter. Dax then fetched my table and bag from the foyer, and I followed him into the other room.
“I forget what I’m supposed to do,” he said. “You’ll have to direct me.”
“Well, it’s your choice whether you want to take your pants off or not.”
“Jesus,” he muttered. “You seriously massage men who are naked under a towel?”
“Yes. Sometimes. Other times, they leave their underwear on. And don’t even think about that other question in your head, because the answer is fuck no, I’ve never given a happy ending, and I never would.”
His eyes widened. “I wasn’t thinking that at all.”
“You may not have thought I did it, but you thought about it. Because everyone seems to wrongly associate massages, even legitimate ones, with happy endings. We get a bad rap.”
“Maybe in the back of my mind I thought about it for a fleeting second, but only in the sense that many men are pigs, and I would imagine you must have come across a few bad apples who might have tried something. It can’t be safe going into strange homes.”
“I’ve been pretty lucky—only one or two bad apples. Our clients are all background checked and vetted. So sketchy people are very rare. And if someone gives me a weird vibe, I just stop the massage. I carry mace as a precaution, too.”
“Ah. So, I’ve been under the threat of getting maced this entire time. I shouldn’t have pried so much.”
“You’re one intrusive question away from getting hit with it.” I winked. “Nah. You’re safe.”
He pretended to wipe sweat from his forehead.
I chuckled. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“You’re stalling again because you’re still not comfortable with the idea of this massage, for some reason.”
“You’re right.”
“I know I’m right.”
He folded his hands together. “Okay. Let’s get this show on the road, then. How do I make this easier for you?”
“You signed up for a full-body massage. It’s easier if you take your pants off since I’ll be working on your legs. You can leave your underwear on. I put a towel over your backside anyway.”
He swallowed. “Okay.”
“But seriously, whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I’m comfortable with not making your job more difficult,” he said.
“I’ll step outside so you can get…comfortable.”
“Comfortable. We’ve used that word a lot, haven’t we? So it’s ironic how uncomfortable I am right now.” Dax laughed.
“You won’t be for much longer,” I said matter-of-factly. If there was one thing I knew, it’s that I was good at my job, and he’d be feeling good and relaxed in no time.
I stepped out of the room. Despite putting on a front of calmness, I was nervous to touch him. I refused to show it, though. If he called me out, I’d have to admit that he made me nervous. I did this for a living. It was supposed to be a piece of cake. And I was only flustered because I was attracted to him. I definitely wouldn’t be admitting that.
After a few minutes, I knocked. “All set?”
“Yes. Come in,” he answered.
Dax lay on his stomach with his head turned toward me. He’d placed the white towel over his backside, although it did nothing to hide the sculpted contours of his derrière. The band of his gray boxer briefs peeked out from the top of the towel.
His body looked amazing, beautifully bronzed and hard as a rock. I took a deep breath in and willed myself to get a grip. Once I got going, I would feel more at ease.
I’d thought maybe he would still seem anxious, but it seemed lying down had already relaxed him somewhat.
“I’m just gonna rub some oil onto your back. It’s warmed, so it will feel good.”
“Okay,” he whispered.
To my dismay, when I squeezed the bottle, it made a funny fart sound.
Dax added fuel to the fire. “Excuse yourself, Ms. McCallister.” His back shook in silent laughter.
“The only one in danger of passing gas here is you,” I retorted.
Dax’s body froze. “Don’t tell me that happens a lot.”
“That’s pretty much the most common thing I see.”
“That will not be happening with me.”
“Sometimes when people reach a certain level of relaxation, they don’t have full control of their functions.”
“Just when I was starting to relax into this, you’re telling me I’m in danger of unwillingly ripping one?”
“Not necessarily. Just letting you know it’s okay if it happens.”
He turned around to face me. “Look, I may not know the first thing about massage. But what I do know? It’s not fucking okay if that happens.”
“Okay.” I chuckled. “No more talking.”
