Free The Masseuse by Sierra Kincade

against the table, which was distracting enough because it looked too much like a bed with the sheets and blankets. I closed the door softly and leaned against the wall, giving myself enough distance to think.
    “You could start with what happened last night,” I prompted.
    His head tilted slightly. “When the boss calls, I have to answer. That’s the way it works.” There was an edge to his voice—maybe sarcasm, maybe something else.
    “Like a dog.” I gave myself another point.
    “Ouch.” Amusement flickered across his face. “I deserved that.”
    I hummed my agreement.
    For a moment he was quiet, studying me, and as the seconds ticked by, I felt as though my skin had turned to glass and he could see every secret I’d carefully hidden inside.
    “I hurt you,” he said.
    He rubbed his knuckles across his chin, a scowl on his face. The wariness I’d seen in the picture in Mr. Stein’s office returned to his eyes.
    “I’m sorry,” he added, and I could feel it—a brick in the wall around my heart crumbling. He sounded so genuine I couldn’t help but believe him.
    “I’m a big girl, I’ll get over it.” I tried to sound tough, but the mood had shifted from tense to fragile. I didn’t know what to do; I didn’t let men make me feel vulnerable. He shouldn’t have anyway. He was on my turf, he was asking for
my
forgiveness.
    He pushed off the table and closed the space between us. With the wall firm against my back there was nowhere to go, not that I could have moved anyway—my heels felt rooted to the floor. His fingertips skimmed down my cheek, and though it felt good and the butterflies in my belly spazzed out like they’d been drinking a little too much caffeine, I turned my head away. I didn’t know what it meant that I could accept his dirty words but not his kindness. Something was wrong with me.
    I panicked.
    “Just undress to the level of your comfort and lie facedown on the table.” The line was so practiced it came out without a second thought.
    With that, I escaped into the hallway, closing the door behind me. I needed to breathe, to get myself under control. This man could turn me on with a look, then bring out my most vindictive side. He’d invaded my thoughts and made me lose control over my body, and I knew practically nothing about him.
    “Ohmigod, is that him?” Amy pounced from the laundry room where she’d been lying in wait for my break.
    “
Shh!
Yes.”
    “What’s he doing here?” She was staring at the door like if she tried hard enough, she might see through it.
    “Apologizing. And getting a massage, I guess. I don’t know.” It dawned on me that he was probably taking off his clothes. He could be naked
right now
, and I would be lathering his perfect body with oil and rubbing my hands all over him.
    How I was going to get through this without getting fired for sexual harassment was beyond me.
    “Let me get this straight,” she planted her fists on her narrow hips. “He’s apologizing, but
you’re
giving
him
a massage.”
    I breathed in slowly, exhaled. We were both staring at the door.
    “He’s hot, Anna.”
    “I know, Amy.”
    “No, Anna. He’s
hot
hot. Like, molten-lava hot. Like unearthly hot. Like . . .”
    “Yes, I get it. I’ve seen him.”
    “All of him?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I’d like to see all of him, if you know what I’m saying.”
    I flexed my fingers and stretched my hands. Even if this wasn’t how Alec had intended to spend this time, I was going to proceed as though he had. He needed to see he couldn’t throw me, and since he quite obviously had, I didn’t know what else to do but play it cool.
    “I have to go in,” I told her.
    Straightening my spine, I reminded myself I was strong, independent, and, most important, in control.
    “Good luck.” She stayed while I cracked the door, trying to peer inside until I shooed her away. With a pout on her face, she backpedaled down the hallway and slipped through the