“Just give me twenty minutes,” I tell them with a wink. “It’s an early anniversary surprise.”
The women exchange sly looks, grinning and nodding. Pulling out another hundred for the masseuse, I am left without a single protest.
Money talks. I learned that early, and it’s never let me down.
Inside the room, Brooklyn is lying facedown with a towel draped over her perfect ass. Her hair is twisted into a bun on top of her head. Her torso, arms, and legs are beautifully bare. My cock twitches, but I keep it under control as I approach the massage table, drinking her in.
I notice a tray table nearby, set up with an assortment of oils, lotions, and a tub of what looks like wet brown sugar. I recall her mentioning a sugar scrub, so I decide to start with that.
Nothing like getting my hands a little sticky.
“I’m so relaxed already that I might just fall asleep during this.” Her voice is sleepy and thick. I take the declaration as a personal challenge. I have no intention of letting her fall asleep while my hands are roaming her perfect body.
Scooping some of the grainy scrub onto my fingertips, I contemplate what I’m supposed to do with it. I hesitate, then put it between her shoulder blades and start making little circles. She moans and gives a little shiver. Encouraged, I add more and work it all over her back, moving my hands in widening circles. The stuff is aromatic and surrounds us with a sweet scent.
I repeat the process down her shoulders and the backs of her arms, all the way to her wrists. I have no idea if this is a total body thing, but I move to her legs next. God, her thighs are firm. I imagine her skin glowing and soft once this stuff is rinsed off. Her muscles taut and supple beneath my hands as I work them up and down her calves, squeezing and stroking as she sighs heavily. The sheet covering her ass is thin and just wide enough to do the job. I could pull it away easily, yet I don’t have the desire to, which is a surprise. Sex is my go-to, the one thing I use to drown out my emotions. But being here with Brooklyn right now isn’t sexual.
It’s sensual.
I never understood the difference before, but I do now.
I think I like pampering my wife. I like the soft sounds that come from her mouth, and the way her breath catches in her throat when I massage a tight muscle. I get to her ankles, my palms covered in sticky sugar. Just as I’m debating whether to move onto her feet, her voice calls out, “Aren’t you going to rinse it off now?”
“Yes,” I offer quietly, getting started with a soft washcloth and a bowl of steaming water.
When I’m done, she begins to turn over. My pulse beats hard. I imagine how wide her eyes will go to see me standing over her instead of the professional she booked.
She doesn’t look my way as she covers her breasts with the towel she’s laying on and turns. The white sheet covering the table crinkles and bunches a little, and she’s so busy trying to smooth it beneath her that she still doesn’t notice I’m not who she’s expecting.
“Okay, I’m ready now,” she says, her eyes drifting closed again.
“I bet you are.” I don’t hide my voice this time, and I can’t stop from grinning as she sits up in shock.
“Luka!”
“Surprise,” I murmur.
“What are you doing here?”
“Shh.” I motion for her to lie back down. “Now you know how I felt when you barged into my meeting and surprised me with this trip.”
She suppresses a little smile. “Look how good it turned out, though.”
“It did. And I wanted to thank you. So just close your eyes and let me work my magic.”
“You make me nervous,” she says.
Leaning down, slowly dragging the towel off her breasts, I pause to watch her nipples pebble, goosebumps racing down her arm. “When have I ever not taken care of you, Brooklyn?”
She arches a brow, but doesn’t say anything. I spread some scrub over her chest and work it around, tiny circles and then larger ones, my strokes gentle but firm. As I get into it, I find myself enjoying it more and more. I’m aroused, fuck yes, but I’m also…content. This is makingmefeel good. Maybe the Bahamas are magical.
Despite the twinges of pain I still feel deep down over her betrayal, I have to admit that no one has ever cared for me the way she has. Through all the ups and downs, she’s been more devoted to me than anyone else in my life. That has to be worth something.
I begin to rinse her off, squeezing the cloth between my hands so the hot water runs down the curves of her body, cooling as the air touches it.
She’s breathing faster now, harder, the beautiful pink flush in her cheeks spreading along her skin. She’s aroused, too. Her thighs tense as I stroke them clean with the washcloth, and she presses them tighter together as if to keep from spreading them for me.
I plan to take full advantage of this sexual tension later tonight. But for now, I’m going to let it build nicely while I pay her back for everything she’s done for me.
