After I called her name, Alexa stood, and what I saw blew me away. Her body was killer. She was tall, maybe five-foot-seven, with a skinny little waist I could span with my hands cinched by the robe’s belt. God bless Jessica for choosing the knee length robes. An image of her long, toned legs wrapped around me popped into my head. They were muscular, but not bulky. The right amount of curve graced her calf muscles, and in a pair of high heels, she would be any man’s wet dream. Long, blonde hair covered what I thought was one of the sexiest parts of the female form. Her neck. Another favorite part for me was the small of a woman’s back. When I was younger, my friends laughed at me when we were out picking up women. I looked at those body parts while they checked out the tits and ass. While not typical buzz zones, a sexy woman’s neck or back could make me hard faster than a set of big tits any day.
“Hello, Alexa.” I held out my hand to shake hers. “I’m Luke, your therapist, and I also own the place.” Why I threw in the owner part was a mystery to me, but I guessed I wanted to impress her. When she took my proffered hand, I noticed how delicate hers fit in mine. “Let’s have a quick chat about your training. Jeff and I already discussed some of it, but I want to know where you’re experiencing pain and soreness and how you feel about the training so far.” With a hand on her back, I led her out of the Zen room. “Then we can get started on making your body feel better. Sound good?” Giving her my thousand-watt smile, I hoped I could dazzle her and put her at ease. Fuck, I’m trying to impress her. When she returned a bright smile, I was thrilled. “How much water have you had so far today?”
“Probably not enough.” Alexa frowned, avoiding my gaze as if she was in trouble with her teacher.
“Ok, let’s grab you a cup and head to the treatment room. We want you as relaxed as possible before we begin.”
Marathon trainees required about an ounce of water per pound each day. It was even more important to stay hydrated since she was about to get a massage. Some researchers claimed massage released toxins into the body, so the kidneys needed extra water to help flush them.
“Sounds great. Thank you for taking me on as a client.” Alexa’s voice was confident, and she seemed sure of herself. “I’m excited to get my achy muscles some much-needed attention. I’ve been so sore these last few weeks.” As she spoke, she pressed the heel of her hand into her right thigh.
“Jeff tells me you’re fairly new to marathons. Which charity are you running for?” I asked once we entered the treatment room.
Runners from all over the world flew in to run The Boston Marathon, the world’s oldest annual footrace, and only those who qualified one of two ways could participate. One method was performance time based, and consisted of mainly career marathoners. Based on Jeff’s rundown of Alexa’s training, I knew she wasn’t one of those. The other way was to run for a charity, but fundraising requirements were high, so being accepted was an immense honor.
“Boston Children’s Hospital.” Her eyes lit up, and a small smile curved her lips. “It’s a wonderful cause, and I’m excited to raise money for them again.” Alexa’s pride showed in her face.
“Tell me about your training.” I propped my hip against the counter, giving her my undivided attention while she sat on the table.
“So far my training’s been great. I’m up to about thirty miles a week. Trust me, my calves let me know after every run.” She laughed, but I caught a grimace of pain before she shrugged it off. “My shoulders are tight from the stress of training and everyday life. I’m dying for your hands to make me feel good.” The cutest wash of pink flushed her stunning face, and she looked down at the floor, trying to hide her embarrassment.
“Have you had a sports massage before?” I asked, bringing her back to the conversation, and putting her at ease with a smile.
“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.
Chapter Two
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.