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Maggie

"H ello, is anyone here?" A deep voice calls from the reception area of my yoga studio.

Shoot, I forgot to lock the front door again. "Sorry, we're closed." I rush out of my office, ready to intercept the potential customer. "The last class ended one hour ago." I jog around the corner, only to stop dead in my tracks. Three of the most handsome guys I have ever seen are standing in front of me.

"Actually, we aren't looking for a yoga class—we're interested in getting massages." The gorgeous blond runs his gaze down my body, causing my neglected nipples to harden under my sports bra.

"Are you the masseuse?" An equally gorgeous dark-haired guy pushes his way past the blond, extending his hand in introduction. "I'm Zander." His eyes drop to the hard points straining against the fabric of my top licking his lips.

Ignoring his outstretched hand, I cross my arms over my chest, hiding my body's reaction to these three hot guys. "We don't offer those kinds of massages here." I snap, trying to act outraged by their insinuation that I run a seedy massage parlor.

Instead, my mind conjures up images of the four of us oiled up and rolling around on the yoga mats.

"Sorry about that." The third gorgeous guy with brownish-red hair steps around the dark-haired guy. What my friend, Zander, is asking is if you could work us in for a quick deep tissue massage as your website advertises." He holds his phone up, the screen pointed in my direction, with a picture of me smiling back at me. "Isn't that you, Maggie Long, Licensed Massage Therapist of Love Yourself Long Time Yoga Studio?"

Why did I let my best friend Aubree talk me into offering massages at my yoga studio? Sure, I'm a licensed massage therapist and a certified yoga instructor, but I was planning on hiring someone else to do the massages while I took care of the yoga classes.

I can't deny being a massage therapist with the incriminating evidence staring back at me. "I don't have any massage oil," I blurt out with a cringe. I've never been good at lying, as I think about the complementary basket in my office I'm making for the hospital charity auction next month, complete with a coupon for a couples massage, editable massage oil, a bottle of wine, and a box of condoms to go along with the adults-only theme of the auction.

"I'm sure there's something around here we can use." Zander zigzags around me so fast I don't have time to stop him.

"Wait!" I yell after him.

"Sorry about Zander. He's like the Tasmanian Devil when he gets his mind set on something, and nothing and no one will stand in his way. Or I guess since he's from Canada, he's a Canadian Devil." The brown-haired guy holds out his hand. "I'm Owen, by the way. That's Reece." He points to the blond lounging against my reception desk like he doesn't have a care in the world while I'm wondering if I should call 911 or, better yet, where I left my phone so I can call for help.

"We're pro hockey players for the Iowa Poseidon." Reece gives me a boyish smile that I'm sure has gotten him into a lot of women's panties, but not this time, buster. "We got back about an hour ago from a long road game stretch only to have to turn around and play one game tomorrow night, and our regular massage therapist is out of town on his honeymoon. We could really use your help." He bats his insanely long eyelashes any woman would envy at me in a way that would look silly on anyone else, but on him, it looks seductive, like he would gladly reward my help with any part of his body.

I shake my head, knowing my thoughts are wandering into dangerous territory again. "Like I said, I don't have any oil or lotion, and no one wants a dry rub." I shrug my shoulders, faking disappointment at being unable to help them work out the stiffness in their bodies.

Speaking of stiff bodies.

My eyes drop to the impressive bulge in Reece's gray sweatpants, and I swear it grows even bigger. I snap my gaze back to his face, only to be met with a smirk.

"Sometimes dry isn't so bad." Reece pushes off the counter with a wink. "As long as it eventually gets wet."

Ignoring his obvious innuendo, I turn my attention to Owen. "Look, I'd really like to help you, but even if Reece is okay with it, a dry massage is never a good idea. It will only leave you craving for that slick feeling only wetness can give you." I smirk, two can play at this game.

Besides, they seem harmless. I doubt pro hockey players would be secret serial killers.

"Touche, little one." Reece walks toward me, his hand outstretched like he's going to touch my cheek.

Involuntarily, I close my eyes and lean forward, welcoming the caress, but all I feel is air causing me to open my eyes as Zander comes bounding into the reception area holding the auction basket.

"Look what I found." He sets the basket on the reception desk, pulling out each item one by one. "A bottle of wine, with a screw top, for easy access." He throws it at Owen. "A bottle of cherry-flavored body oil." He quirks an eyebrow at me, but I refuse to break.

Breaking eye contact first, he shrugs and throws the bottle of edible body oil to Reece, who, of course, catches it with ease, just like Owen did with the bottle of wine. "Tsk, tsk, you lied to us, Maggie." Reece scolds. "You do have massage oil." He takes his eyes off me long enough to read the label on the bottle. "Cherry-flavored edible body oil that heats on the skin with contact. Perfect. Looks like we won't have to do it dry after all."

"Let's not forget the pièce de résistance." Zander reaches into the basket for the last item. "A box of Magnum condoms. Just my size." His eyes trail over my body before landing on my face. I'm almost positive I'm going to spontaneously combust from the heat in his gaze.

"Don't act like you're the only one of us who has a huge cock." Reece's voice cuts through the room. "Have you forgotten? We all shower together. Unfortunately, I've seen you naked more times than I care to count."

"Sure, you have." Zander shrugs. "But she hasn't. Maybe she can judge them for us and see who's the biggest."

"Wait a minute. I haven't agreed to anything yet." I hold up my hands in a feeble attempt to stop the direction of this conversation, because if I'm honest with myself, I don't hate where it's going.

"But you haven't said no yet either." Owen screws off the cap on the wine bottle before holding it out to me for the first sip. "Drink?"

"Are you trying to get me drunk, so I'll say yes?" I hold back a smile, realizing they're completely harmless—incorrigible flirts—but harmless, nonetheless. A little flirting can't hurt. It actually feels good to tease the three of them.

"We're desperate men, Maggie." Owen raises the bottle of wine to my lips. "We'll do whatever it takes for you to say yes." He tips the mouth of the bottle to my lips. "Open." I do as I'm told, placing my lips to the rim of the bottle and letting Owen pour the wine into my mouth before pulling the bottle back when I close my mouth, sealing in the liquid. "Swallow." He commands again.

Only this time, before I obey Owen, I glance around the room to find all three sets of eyes trained on me. A naughty thought pops into my head as I slowly swallow the wine. I close my eyes as the smooth liquid coats my throat, making me wish it was a different kind of liquid only they could give me.

Going in for the kill, I open my eyes and make eye contact with them as I open my mouth to show them, I've swallowed every drop Owen gave me. A round of sexually frustrated groans fills the air making me feel like a sex goddess—something I've never felt before.

Sure, I've dated, even had a few serious boyfriends, but I've never been the one to initiate anything. The whole reason I moved to Iowa to open my yoga studio was to get away from a controlling ex-boyfriend who wanted to add people to our sex lives. When I said no, he went off on me, calling me a prude. If only he could see me now, flirting with these three hunks, he would think I was far from a prude.

Owen is the first to recover, lowering his lips to my ear. "You're dangerous, aren't you, Maggie May? " He whispers, his breath caressing my cheek, making my body heat up.

"About the massages," Zander says, pulling my attention away from Owen, giving me a chance to cool my body down. "We're willing to pay you a thousand dollars apiece for a thirty-minute-deep tissue massage."

Three thousand dollars?

The yoga studio is doing good, but I'd be foolish to turn down that kind of money.

My gaze drifts from each of their hopeful faces before I finally give in. "Fine. But I expect a big tip."

Reece is the first to react to my statement, "Don't worry. We would love to give you a big tip, but we'd prefer you take the whole thing, not just the tip." The smirk on his face tells me all I need to know. If given the chance, I could have whatever I wanted from the three of them, at least for tonight.

"A monetary tip," I clarify as I grab the oil out of Reece's hand. "Now, who's going to be first?"

Three hands shoot in the air so fast, I'm certain they're going to fight over who gets to go first when they shock me by saying, "How about all at the same time?"

I should be scandalized or at least shocked by their joint statement, but since my best friend Aubree is dating three pro hockey players at the same time, I'm not surprised they would suggest it.

Ignoring their suggestion, I motion for them to follow me, but not before I lock the front door. Not that I would actually take them up on the offer, but I can't risk anyone finding me alone in my studio with three guys—I'm a respected businesswoman in the town—what would people think?