End of the Innocence

Chapter 28

I was in trouble the moment my name was spoken. I was half-asleep, cold cucumber on my eyes, a robe wrapped around my naked body, reclining in one of the suite’s soft leather chairs. My hand was held by a spa attendant, the final adjustments being made to my manicure. Two women had transformed my hotel room into a spa, putting soothing tones on the Bose radio, closing the curtains, and dimming the lights to an appropriate level. While I normally would have gotten services in the spa downstairs, this time—given our short timeframe—Brad had arranged the services to be done in our suite. Through the muted sounds of wind and rain, I heard my name and opened my eyes.

He was beautiful in all of the ways that Brad wasn’t. Thin where Brad was thick, blond hair where his was black. A tight polo that showed muscular arms, blue eyes that stared confidently out at me from a rugged face. Yum. I glanced down, tightening my robe and stood, sliding bare feet into slippers, padding gently across the stone floor ‘til I stood in front of him.

“I’ve set up the table in the bedroom. Are you ready?” the man asked, a hint of California surfer in his tone.

I nodded, and he gestured for the door, holding it open as I moved through into a dim room, lit candles littering the space.

“I’ll give you privacy,” he spoke from behind me. “Please lie face up on the table. If you need me, just call out. My name is Tyler.” I glanced over to him, nodding, my eyes catching the movement of the other attendants, their quiet and respectful departure as they left the suite. Then, the bedroom door closed, and I was alone.

I shed the robe, suddenly too aware of my nakedness, of his presence on the other side of the door. Candles filled the room with lavender and vanilla scents and danced flickering shadows over my skin. I laid on the table, pulling the sheet up to my chest, and then lowered myself until I was flat, my breasts tickled by the soft fabric, my head encased in a soft pillow. I closed my eyes and waited nervously for him to return.

Why was I nervous? Massages, once a foreign treat, had become commonplace in my new life of luxury. My body had been accustomed to strange hands, to men and women alike oiling up my body, to nudity a hairbreadth from gentle touches. I should be calm, relaxed, and ready for a treatment I have had fifty times before. But I wasn’t. I was tense. Jittery. Wet. Why the hell am I wet? The panicked question flitted through my mind at the same time as I heard him enter.

The sound of the door first. It opened, then soft steps, the pad of feet against carpet, a sound I had to strain to hear. When he spoke, I flinched, my nerves a bundle of live wires. “Do you have any sensitive areas? Or places you’d like me to focus on?” He spoke softly, the husky tone sending a shiver through my body.

Sensitive areas? A few. Places I’d like him to focus on? Yes, please. “No. Just a normal Swedish massage, please.” My voice behaved, coming out casually and unaffected, the right amount of offhand decorating its syllables.

“I understand. Mr. De Luca left very particular instructions,” he said the words with a hint of seduction, his sentence causing my eyes to open.

Particular instructions from Brad? That could be worrisome. His earlier threat echoed in my mind. Be careful what you wish for ... I had wished, hopefully he hadn’t granted.

♥♥♥

Brad drove, borrowing Phillipe’s sedan, wanting the control of driving and the solitude of an empty car. He had brushed off Julia’s concerns over Alexis, but Julia had every reason to be worried. Alexis was not going to take this well. He called her from the road, taking a deep breath in mental preparation as the phone rang.

“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me.”

“I’m headed to Saffire now. We need to talk.”

“As exciting as that sounds, I’m not working tonight. And there’s no way I’m going into Fire on my night off.”

He could see this conversation, the direction it was taking, a red blinking sign indicating that his demise was ahead in one decision. He sighed. “Where are you? Can we meet for coffee somewhere?”

She huffed into the phone. “I don’t drink coffee, Brad. I’m home. Come here. I trust you’ll remember the address.” The phone beeped, and he looked at the screen, the END CALL message mocking him in its finality.

This was bullshit. Since when did he follow orders from women? Julia was one thing; she managed to boss him around with ease, but Alexis had no hold on his heart. He could turn around and head right back to Julia. To her soft skin and feisty eyes. Skin that was probably being touched eight ways to Sunday right now. He had set her up with Tyler, a masseuse who moonlighted as an escort, his clientele mostly older women married to casino whales. He tried to push the thought of Julia out of his mind, tried to not think of her, naked on a table before Tyler, the man’s hands sliding over her oiled body. He moved to the right lane, preparing for the exit that would take him to Alexis’s townhome.