Free Rub Me The Right Way (Erotic Short Story Book 1) by Xavier Neal Page B
Authors: Xavier Neal
case one of us isn't at the desk. ”
Shock still in my system I snap, “You expect me to leave my phone away from me that long?”
“Yes ma'am.”
“That's absurd.”
“I understand it will be difficult for you.” A harsh glare comes from me as she stands, prepared to take my items.
With another annoyed huff, I click off my phone, drop it into my leather bag, and hand it to her still highly annoyed. “I swear if a stick of gum is missing, I'm suing this entire facility.”
“Yes ma'am,” she politely responds. Not taking my threat the way I hoped she merely motions her hand the direction she's expecting me to go. “Enjoy your massage.”
That's less likely now with my mind running in circles over that email I could've easily finished while someone was trying to rub the kinks out of my neck. I march the direction I was instructed, surprised I have to wait until I'm buzzed in before I can actually enter the area. What are they heavily guarding? Why am I in the Ft. Knox of massage places?
On the other side of the door is a perky woman in an all white outfit with a clipboard.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Anderson. I'm Laura. I'll be taking you to your room as soon as you sign this nondisclosure agreement insuring any of the practices, environmental habits, or any activities you participate in will not be shared.” Practices? Like animal rituals? Activities? That sounds...bad. So bad. I'm firing Hope if this goes even a little weird. I scribble my name on the line and she smiles brightly. “This way.”
She swipes her key card to allow us access to the back area and out of the waiting area I just strolled through. I follow her down a long hallway that branches off several times, each way, staggering positions. At the very end of the hall, she takes me to the right and to a door that reads 2708.
Knowing damn well there aren't that many rooms in this building I point to the number before she opens the door. “What's that about?”
“Employee numbers.”
She opens the door and I enter inside alone.
“Klous will be right with you. I hope you enjoy your experience. I'll see you after your session.”
Politely I thank her before she shuts the door.
In the large room there are lit candles, giving off a crisp, clean smell, along with counters that are built into the wall with cabinets underneath them. I continue to look around the dimly lit area that has no clock from what I can see. Slightly nervous at the sight of what looks more like a bed than a table in the middle of the room, I stare at it strangely. I swear it's calling my name for me to climb on it.
“Miss Anderson?” A male voice forces me to whip around.
Dumbfounded by the hunk of a man standing in front of me, I let my jaw hit the floor. Someway, somehow, a six foot four blond giant, ripped like a slightly thinner Incredible Hulk, has entered the room wearing an all white outfit that matched Laura's. It hides nothing. Not a single muscle.
While I'm drooling over his large hands and frame he repeats, “Miss Anderson?”
Figuring I should probably respond this time I mutter, “Uh-huh.”
“I'm Klous.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It says here you would prefer I call you Astin, is that correct?”
My tongue moistens my lips imagining all the things I would let him call me. “Uh-huh.”
“It says this visit is about relieving stress, is that correct?
“Uh-huh.”
Suddenly Klous folds his arms across his chest and the ground beneath me becomes unstable. In a lower whisper he questions, “Are you going to just say yes to everything I suggest?”
Hell. Fucking. Yes. “Uh-huh,” I absentmindedly answer. At that moment his smile expands becoming the brightest thing in the room. Trying to battle the star struck teeny bopper I've become I shake my head. “I mean, no. I mean, if it's gonna help me relieve stress, probably.”
“Oh I'll
Shock still in my system I snap, “You expect me to leave my phone away from me that long?”
“Yes ma'am.”
“That's absurd.”
“I understand it will be difficult for you.” A harsh glare comes from me as she stands, prepared to take my items.
With another annoyed huff, I click off my phone, drop it into my leather bag, and hand it to her still highly annoyed. “I swear if a stick of gum is missing, I'm suing this entire facility.”
“Yes ma'am,” she politely responds. Not taking my threat the way I hoped she merely motions her hand the direction she's expecting me to go. “Enjoy your massage.”
That's less likely now with my mind running in circles over that email I could've easily finished while someone was trying to rub the kinks out of my neck. I march the direction I was instructed, surprised I have to wait until I'm buzzed in before I can actually enter the area. What are they heavily guarding? Why am I in the Ft. Knox of massage places?
On the other side of the door is a perky woman in an all white outfit with a clipboard.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Anderson. I'm Laura. I'll be taking you to your room as soon as you sign this nondisclosure agreement insuring any of the practices, environmental habits, or any activities you participate in will not be shared.” Practices? Like animal rituals? Activities? That sounds...bad. So bad. I'm firing Hope if this goes even a little weird. I scribble my name on the line and she smiles brightly. “This way.”
She swipes her key card to allow us access to the back area and out of the waiting area I just strolled through. I follow her down a long hallway that branches off several times, each way, staggering positions. At the very end of the hall, she takes me to the right and to a door that reads 2708.
Knowing damn well there aren't that many rooms in this building I point to the number before she opens the door. “What's that about?”
“Employee numbers.”
She opens the door and I enter inside alone.
“Klous will be right with you. I hope you enjoy your experience. I'll see you after your session.”
Politely I thank her before she shuts the door.
In the large room there are lit candles, giving off a crisp, clean smell, along with counters that are built into the wall with cabinets underneath them. I continue to look around the dimly lit area that has no clock from what I can see. Slightly nervous at the sight of what looks more like a bed than a table in the middle of the room, I stare at it strangely. I swear it's calling my name for me to climb on it.
“Miss Anderson?” A male voice forces me to whip around.
Dumbfounded by the hunk of a man standing in front of me, I let my jaw hit the floor. Someway, somehow, a six foot four blond giant, ripped like a slightly thinner Incredible Hulk, has entered the room wearing an all white outfit that matched Laura's. It hides nothing. Not a single muscle.
While I'm drooling over his large hands and frame he repeats, “Miss Anderson?”
Figuring I should probably respond this time I mutter, “Uh-huh.”
“I'm Klous.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It says here you would prefer I call you Astin, is that correct?”
My tongue moistens my lips imagining all the things I would let him call me. “Uh-huh.”
“It says this visit is about relieving stress, is that correct?
“Uh-huh.”
Suddenly Klous folds his arms across his chest and the ground beneath me becomes unstable. In a lower whisper he questions, “Are you going to just say yes to everything I suggest?”
Hell. Fucking. Yes. “Uh-huh,” I absentmindedly answer. At that moment his smile expands becoming the brightest thing in the room. Trying to battle the star struck teeny bopper I've become I shake my head. “I mean, no. I mean, if it's gonna help me relieve stress, probably.”
“Oh I'll
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