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“How hard do you want it?” Alexandra asked, her voice so low and sultry that it might as well have been accompanied by a kiss to her neck. Both things would’ve produced the same result, a jolt of heat rippling over her skin.

After a beat, Alexandra clarified her meaning. “Light touch or something deeper?”

“Maybe something in between,” Charlotte replied, projecting the coolness she didn’t feel.

Without further hesitation, Alexandra placed both hands on her upper back. Her thumbs worked in small loops from her shoulder to the base of her neck.

Despite herself, Charlotte groaned. She hadn’t really expected a massage, and as her tension melted, she found herself slipping away too. She was in a regular room at the spa and professional hands were administering a standard Swedish massage. Her new favorite thing.

Rubbing soothing circles over her bicep, Alexandra’s thumbs moved with purpose as they pulled down to her hand. When she laced her fingers in between hers and applied pressure to her palm, Charlotte felt it all over her body. It turned up the volume on the throb building slowly between her thighs.

With her eyes closed in the silent room, all of Charlotte’s sensations were reduced to the singularity of touch. She was hyper aware of every stroke. When Alexandra’s fingers slid down her spine, Charlotte held her breath to keep from moaning.

Alexandra’s hands were so strong, so sure, as they kneaded her left side in concentrated sections as they had her right. E ortlessly, they dissolved the tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying.

“Let go.” Alexandra’s urging was more akin to a command.

Charlotte tried, but it was getting harder to pretend she was getting a conv

entional massage. She wouldn’t be so aroused if anyone else were touching her.

Alexandra started at her neck again, burying and twisting her fingers in Charlotte’s hair as she applied pressure to the base of her skull. When her fingernails scraped her scalp, probably intentionally, it sent a shockwave of goosebumps skittering over her skin.

Biting her lip, Charlotte resisted making a sound.

Alexandra was familiar with her most sensitive spots and obviously was willing to use it against her, but that didn’t mean she’d give her the satisfaction. Part of her didn’t have the patience for pretense. What Charlotte really wanted to do was pull her into her arms and drop the act, but she resisted.

If she wanted to play, Charlotte would play.

Her resolve faltered when Alexandra circled around to stand near her head. Charlotte opened her eyes, peering through the little hole in her donut shaped pillow. Alexandra had taken o her shoes, exposing newly pedicured toes. She loved when she painted them white. It complemented her olive tone so perfectly.

Did she pick that color for me?

Alexandra’s chest pressing into her shoulder stopped the sappiness that threatened to ruin the mood. Each time she leaned in to run her forearm over Charlotte’s shoulder and toward the middle of her back, the lace of her bra grazed Charlotte’s skin.

Her mouth nearly watered at the thought of her in that low cut bra. Or better yet, the bra on the floor and nothing on

her skin but some tan lines and Charlotte’s hands. Her lips.

Her tongue. Her teeth.

The heat that had been simmering slowly pulled at Charlotte with new force. Alexandra added gasoline to the fire with hands that swept down Charlotte’s back and toward her tailbone.

When the sheet moved o her hips, Charlotte knew she was exposing her own tan line. A rush of exhilaration made her squirm as Alexandra pulled the waistband of her underwear down a fraction. If felt wrong. Dangerous.

Thrilling.

“You’re so tight,” Alexandra said, her words barely above a whisper as she pressed down on the lowest point on her back.

Her voice wasn’t as commanding. It was closer to what she sounded like in the darkness of her bedroom. Was the game starting to get to her? Was she growing uncomfortably wet too?

Alexandra ran her open palms over Charlotte’s sides and down to her hips. Reflexively, Charlotte lifted her lower body o the table, wishing Alexandra would keep a strong grip on her hips and climb on to the table behind her. She imagined her wearing one of the modestly sized strap-ons in the dresser drawer. Could almost feel herself stretch as Alexandra used the arousal dripping from Charlotte’s body to coat the tip and press into her. Slowly at first, but only until she adjusted. Then she wanted Alexandra Leon to dominate her. Not Alex. She wanted her boss.

When Charlotte returned to her body, she realized to her horror that she’d been grinding against the table as if

desperate for friction. Did she notice? Charlotte wasn’t sure how she wanted that question answered.

For her part, Alexandra didn’t drop the masseuse role.