“I’m a banker. Thrilling stuff,” he laughed, shifting on the table. Yeah, he was a newbie. He probably thought she was going to give him a happy ending.
“Hey, it’s the best job in Monopoly,” she joked. “Would some music or incense bother you?”
“Have at it.”
She turned on some light piano music and lit a stick of jasmine incense, waiting a second for it to catch and get herself in the zone. She was supposed to radiate calm, not pent up energy.
Maggie approached the table, coating her hands in some unscented massage oil and rubbing them together. “I’ve got some oil on my hands, just to warn you. I’m going to take it easy here at first so you can get a sense of the pressure. We can always go up from there. If you work an office job you’ve likely got a lot of tension in your neck and shoulders. I’ll focus there, if that sounds good to you.”
She waited for his affirmative, her hands poised over his shoulders, but it took him a moment.
“Sure thing, Maggie,” he said softly, and she felt a ripple of awareness in the familiar way he said her name.
She started in, feeling the little jolt of pleasure at touching a human body again after the long weekend alone. His skin was warm and slippery under her oiled hands. She was right about that tension, she could already feel the bundled muscles of his shoulders. She could spend the whole hour just working these out.
He let out an involuntary sound, like a little moan of pleasure as she deepened the massage, testing him for signs of discomfort as she went.
“Ok to go a bit harder?” she murmured, not wanting to startle him.
“Definitely,” he groaned. “Man, this feels great.”
“Glad to hear it,” she replied in a low voice, rubbing her thumbs under the curve of his shoulder blade, feeling the knots bump underneath her touch like little dense balls. She set in on one in a gentle circling motion.
“So, how long have you been a masseuse?”
She bit back a small laugh. She could have bet he was a talker.
“Not too long actually,” she replied. “I got my license a while back, at the same time I was in cosmetology school. But I only started working here last year. I used to do hair at a place downtown.”
He was suddenly propping himself up on the table and Maggie stepped back, alarmed.
“Maggie?” his voice asked somewhat cautiously, and she saw his face for the first time.
She was suddenly transported six years back, to that face with its chiseled jaw, always with a bit of stubble, sharp aquiline nose, hooded eyes, dark, full brows. That face smiling at her. Lifting a frosted glass to his lips. Tracking her movements with his slow, burning gaze. That face looking up at her, mouth plucking gently at her nipple. That face triumphant between her trembling thighs. Wet, from her.
“JT?” she stammered, feeling her jaw slacken as she took another step back.
There it was, that steady gaze, drifting down her body appreciatively. He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes back up to hers, and ran a hand over his jaw. The awkwardness was palpable.
“I’m sorry, Maggie,” he said finally, and she could hear the sincerity in his flustered voice. “I wasn’t trying to spring up on you. I just… I remembered your voice.”