“You didn’t have to do that. He’s gone now.” I moved back to my original spot beside Brooks, feeling petulant and a smidge happier.
Brooks shrugged his heavy shoulders as we were asked to sit down. My muscles screamed hallelujah as I settled on my butt and tuned out a talk about holistic living, whatever the hell that meant. The instructor blabbed about our hearts and chanted “namaste” at us. Everyone else bowed and said it back, but I couldn’t bring myself to reply. The word meant nothing to me, so I didn’t feel like I should use it. Instead I got a head start and rolled up my mat, and Brooks did the same without my help.
“Massages are next,” he said as he straightened with his perfectly even mat in his hands. I scowled at my mat; it looked like a cinnamon roll with the top sticking too far up. I tried to push it down so it was even, but the sticky parts of the mat wouldn’t let that happen. People nearby noticed my struggle and gave me smiles.
I groaned. “But I’m a mess.”In more ways than one.
Brooks gave a soft command to Lemonade, and she stood. He easily picked up the handle of her harness, and I took his mat from him. He bent and picked up his white cane from where he’d had it resting on the floor next to Lemonade. The play of his back muscles under the formfitting shirt as he stretched had my mouth going dry. He was such an attractive man. It made zero sense to me that he hadn’t kept anyone around. Hell, based on looks alone, he should be swarmed with men.
“Doesn’t matter.” He jolted me out of my thoughts by grasping my shoulder. “You’ll have to shower the massage lotion off anyway. It’s always oil-heavy.” He smiled in my direction and tucked his cane under his arm.
Groaning, I took his hand when he held it out. “Will they separate us? I’m not the biggest fan. Mother lives and dies by her massage therapist, but it makes me… uncomfortable.” I gave a theatrical shudder that was only about a quarter pretend.
He teased his palm along my shoulder and down my arm. Goose bumps lifted on my skin. After the careful way he’d fucked me last night, taking his time to let me lose myself in him and the moment, I had a whole new interest in what those hands could do. He clasped my fingers and lifted my hand so he could kiss along my knuckles, and my stomach squirmed.
Laughter from the instructor as he spoke with someone broke me out of my reverie, and I began to lead Brooks to the door. The instructor was surrounded by a group of fans, but most who had participated in the class were long gone.
“No, I paid for a couples massage,” Brooks said as we left.
He appeared to know where we were headed next because we didn’t go back to the main room. He tugged me off to our left, farther down the wide corridor we were in, though he allowed me and Lemonade to “steer.” We came out into another small reception area. The rounded, stone-lined ceiling stretched upward into a dome, and on both walls at our sides, manmade waterfalls splashed and sent up a fine mist that made the air smell damp and sweet. I’d mistaken the sound of restful water for a recording earlier when we’d gone into the yoga room. Large golden fish swam in the clear pools at the base of the falls.
“Mr. Sutherland,” the woman behind the desk greeted. She had a friendly round face, brunette ponytail, and nicely filled out a simple green dress. “Please, they’re ready for you at your convenience.”
I glanced at Brooks. How much money had he spent to have people waiting around on him?Tons and tons, I already knew that answer. She walked us to a door behind the desk, and when we passed the threshold, we were in a semicircle broken up by eight doors. She chose one, and to me it felt at random, but she spoke to whoever was inside and gestured us forward.
“Hans and Eric will take good care of you, gentlemen.” With a smile that seemed too serene, she stepped back, and we made our way inside. This, at least, was about what I’d expected. The room was small but clean, with tealights burning on a wooden lip around the edge to give off a comfortable glow. Two men in retreat uniforms, khaki pants and green polos with Astamaya stitched on the right breast, waited for us. One was blond, pale, and stood at least six-foot-four—I’d hazard he was Hans—and one was pleasantly short and tan, with wavy brown hair and warm brown eyes. Eric caught my eye and patted his massage table. The dimples in his cheeks popped as he smiled.
I held up a finger in his direction and turned to whisper, “I’m not sure about this. I’ve always hated strangers touching me.”
Brooks popped a kiss on my cheek, then followed it along to suck at my bottom lip, melting my knees on the spot. “I’m right here.”
I sighed and gave him a real kiss. He wrapped his arms around me and dragged me close as he fucked his tongue into my mouth and fried my brain.
“You can set your stuff right there,” Eric said, startling me back into the real world. He pointed to a small table along the wall. Large fluffy black towels had been set out. “You can strip there, too.” Eric smiled, and I got the feeling he was going to stay right there while that happened. Brooks didn’t seem like he gave half a fuck about being nude in front of men he didn’t know. Trying to feel the same way—I work in the Courtesan, for God’s sake—I went over to the table and set down our yoga mats. Brooks followed me, and when he was at my side, I touched his shoulder.
“Do you want to take your cane?”
“Nah.” He slung it onto the table, gave Lemonade the command to stay, and then drew off his shirt over his head. I watched, mesmerized, as he took his clothes off without a single care that two other people were in the room. His muscles rippled and kept me staring. I tried to tell myself I worked in a brothel and was immune to nudity, even attractive naked people, and turned my back to the men. I took off my shirt, but then, last second, my courage withered. I wrapped the towel around my waist before I stripped off my pants and boxers.
Brooks, on the other hand, just took everything off, and he had nothing to be ashamed of. His cock was plump and juicy, and I wondered how much work it would take to get him to abandon this. When I peeked over my shoulder, Hans and Eric were busy setting up the final touches on their areas, unscrewing caps on containers of lotion or oil. Neither one paid even the slightest attention to us, and I felt silly.
When Brooks had his towel around his hips, I led him to his table. “I really don’t know about this,” I whispered in his ear.
“I’m right here, sweet prince,” he said and drew me in for a deep kiss that caught me off guard. My dick rose to the occasion and there was nothing I could do about it. As I backed off from him, I didn’t glance at either Hans or Eric. In some ways Brooks was braver, or at least I thought so, because he couldn’t see people judging him.
Eric only smiled when I finally gathered enough courage to glance his way and lever myself up onto the padded table. I dropped onto my front quickly to hide my happy cock.I work in a brothel. I refuse to be embarrassed.Still, I couldn’t stop the wave of heat that slammed my body.
Turning my head, I realized Brooks had his hand held out to me across the small gap between us, and I easily entwined my fingers with his. Strong, warm, oiled hands started on my shoulders, and I groaned at the sensation. Brooks laughed and squeezed my fingers. Low music played in the background, bells mixed with water dripping, and while it wasn’t something I would pick out myself, it did let my mind unwind.
“That’s it,” Brooks whispered and rubbed his thumb up over my pulse point. My cock got even harder because the words reminded me so much of how he was during sex. Oddly enough I loved watching Hans rub his big hands along Brooks’ back and neck. It made me think about how nice it would be to slick his skin up and do the same thing to him. I closed my eyes and sank into the pleasant haze of unclenching.
Time floated by and my stomach relaxed. I noticed weird differences in myself. My toes ached as if I’d been holding them scrunched for half my life, and maybe I did do that regularly. I wasn’t sure. My jaw was loose and wiggly. It never felt that way.
“Okay,” a warm voice murmured in my ear. “Let go of that husband of yours and roll over, honey.”
“Oh, we just started… whatever we’re doing,” I mumbled back. “He’s not my husband.”
Brooks squeezed his fingers around my wrist, and my cock gave a pleasant thump. Frowning, I shook my head.
