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Art puts a hand on my shoulder.
Wow. It’s a good thing there’s all this other wet heat around, so I don’t have to explain what’s happening to my towel thanks to his touch.
“Do your best to breathe meditatively,” he says. “It will help you relax.”
Relax with his hand on my shoulder? Not in this life.
He removes the hand.
No!
Fine.
I try his breathing suggestion, if only to tame the inappropriate fantasies where I cover him with honey and lick it off, over and over.
As impossible as it sounds, I take a deep breath full of steam, then let it out evenly. And then again. And again.
Huh.
I am beginning to relax.
And really, truly relax, like I’ve got a wine buzz going.
Must be a heat stroke coming on. I’ve heard of people falling asleep before they get hypothermia, so maybe something similar happens on the other end of the spectrum?
The room around me begins to spin. I no longer notice the sounds of people getting spanked, or their moans and groans. My vision slowly goes white.
“Hey, there,” Art’s voice says gently, as if from a distance. “I think this might be enough for your immersion.”
Hmm. I think I’ve turned into a wet noodle. I can’t move.
Strong hands grab me. “Let’s cool you off.”
I grunt something unintelligible, then feel Art pick me up and carry me somewhere. When I open my eyes, he’s standing above a small pool, holding me like a bride.
Must be practice for our fake wedding day.
Hold on. Are those icicles floating on the surface of the pool? Also, why does it seem like Art is about to—
Splash.
Skunk! The fucker jumped in while holding me.
I expect this to feel like that time Gia forced me to participate in the ice bucket challenge, but strangely, it doesn’t.
My skin feels prickly, not cold.
After all that heat, this is refreshing.
Still holding me, Art strides out of the pool.
The icy dip seems to have restarted my brain function, so I can’t help but notice that the cold water hasn’t given Art any shrinkage. Nope. If we’re honest, something opposite is going on.
He sets me on my feet, removes our funny hats, and leaves for a second.
When he comes back, he’s holding fresh towels.
“We should check on our table,” he says when we both towel off. “After that, we can use the massage room.”
