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Authors: Pamela Ann
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being with Kyle. True, but I was sure as hell not emotionally ready for someone as intense as Blake. That was like taking on Hurricane Katrina.
Besides, he doesn’t seem to be keen on long-term relationships anyway.
Apart from Kyle, I haven’t been with an yone else, emotionally or physically. And Blake is a very intense person. How the heck would I handle him? Women were beyond helpless when he ends it with them. They were hysterical, calling incessantly hoping he would take them back. It was mayhem.
He never does.
No, thank you . I didn’t want to be one of those women.
Risking our friendshi p over sexual satisfaction? Maybe? I shoved that thought quickly to the back of my mind.
I came out of the changing room dressed in a thong and a robe. I made my way towards the massage tables. My masseuse, a tall stern-looking man—possibly Eastern European, waited patiently for me. He introduced himself as Alec.
Blake was already on his stomach and had a scant towel draping his glorious ass. His back was all ripping-hard muscles, defined and cut. He had h is head down even though the session hadn’t started yet. I was sure he did that to make me feel less uncomfortable when I tried to position myself on the narrow table.
Hopefully , that scant towel will be enough to cover my bottom.
Alas, as dreadfully predicted, it barely just covered it. Most times I’m proud of my “well-rounded assets” but at times like these, I wish they were less rounded.
As they started wor king on our backs, Blake turned, reached out and touched my arm softly.
“Feeling better?”
I smiled shyly at him, “Yes, thank you. It’s just what I really needed. Next time I’ll be the one giving you surprises.” His beautiful face lit up, giving me a devilish grin.
“I’ll hold you to that !”
I nodded , tranquility washing over me as I closed my eyes, still facing him.
Shouldn’t I be mourning the loss of Kyle? Yet from the moment I opened my eyes today, Blake railroaded my thoughts, putting Kyle somewhere faraway and distant.
How was that possible?
I was crying my eyes out last night and today I felt like an entirely different person.
Powerful hands started to work their way down to my lower back. Hovering around where the hump of my butt started. Kneading thumbs and fingers made the towel slide lower. I gasped from a jolt of pain and exhaled deeply, lips slightly parted.
The pain felt good and I welcomed it. The stress I had from the last couple of weeks had taken its toll on my body.
Opening my eyes, I found Blake staring intently at me. He didn’t smile or speak, but kept those magnetic eyes locked unto mine. I swallowed, nervous. Those eyes have the power to penetrate and reach inside of me. It was disconcerting.
He’s been doing that a lot today.
Not knowing what to do, I closed my eyes again.
Christ, I’m so screwed ! Heaven help me if he did try something.
God knows I have a hard time resisting Blake when he asks something of me. But this Blake—pure full-on Casanova mode Blake—would be my undoing.
The smell of roses and the crackle of fire lulled me to sleep, unperturbed and tranquil.
I happily dozed off into a blissful slumber.
I woke up from the soft-click of a door cl osing.
Befuddled from my nap , I glanced around and realized that I was alone, lying there almost naked and asleep.
The darkened lighting from the candles made it hard to see much further into the room.
“Bla aaake?” I called out. I sat up and looked for my robe, but it seemed it had vanished! It was nowhere in sight.
Biting my lip, I pulled my long hair forward to co ver my breasts; it was good enough to cover my nipples, but not enough to cover the outline of my boobs.
I tried to gather my wits.
“In here!” called out Blake. Where was in here ? He barely echoed.
Slowly walking barefoot in a thong, and my boobs partially covered by my long hair, I glanced around in the dimly lit room.
“Blake!” my voice laced with
Besides, he doesn’t seem to be keen on long-term relationships anyway.
Apart from Kyle, I haven’t been with an yone else, emotionally or physically. And Blake is a very intense person. How the heck would I handle him? Women were beyond helpless when he ends it with them. They were hysterical, calling incessantly hoping he would take them back. It was mayhem.
He never does.
No, thank you . I didn’t want to be one of those women.
Risking our friendshi p over sexual satisfaction? Maybe? I shoved that thought quickly to the back of my mind.
I came out of the changing room dressed in a thong and a robe. I made my way towards the massage tables. My masseuse, a tall stern-looking man—possibly Eastern European, waited patiently for me. He introduced himself as Alec.
Blake was already on his stomach and had a scant towel draping his glorious ass. His back was all ripping-hard muscles, defined and cut. He had h is head down even though the session hadn’t started yet. I was sure he did that to make me feel less uncomfortable when I tried to position myself on the narrow table.
Hopefully , that scant towel will be enough to cover my bottom.
Alas, as dreadfully predicted, it barely just covered it. Most times I’m proud of my “well-rounded assets” but at times like these, I wish they were less rounded.
As they started wor king on our backs, Blake turned, reached out and touched my arm softly.
“Feeling better?”
I smiled shyly at him, “Yes, thank you. It’s just what I really needed. Next time I’ll be the one giving you surprises.” His beautiful face lit up, giving me a devilish grin.
“I’ll hold you to that !”
I nodded , tranquility washing over me as I closed my eyes, still facing him.
Shouldn’t I be mourning the loss of Kyle? Yet from the moment I opened my eyes today, Blake railroaded my thoughts, putting Kyle somewhere faraway and distant.
How was that possible?
I was crying my eyes out last night and today I felt like an entirely different person.
Powerful hands started to work their way down to my lower back. Hovering around where the hump of my butt started. Kneading thumbs and fingers made the towel slide lower. I gasped from a jolt of pain and exhaled deeply, lips slightly parted.
The pain felt good and I welcomed it. The stress I had from the last couple of weeks had taken its toll on my body.
Opening my eyes, I found Blake staring intently at me. He didn’t smile or speak, but kept those magnetic eyes locked unto mine. I swallowed, nervous. Those eyes have the power to penetrate and reach inside of me. It was disconcerting.
He’s been doing that a lot today.
Not knowing what to do, I closed my eyes again.
Christ, I’m so screwed ! Heaven help me if he did try something.
God knows I have a hard time resisting Blake when he asks something of me. But this Blake—pure full-on Casanova mode Blake—would be my undoing.
The smell of roses and the crackle of fire lulled me to sleep, unperturbed and tranquil.
I happily dozed off into a blissful slumber.
I woke up from the soft-click of a door cl osing.
Befuddled from my nap , I glanced around and realized that I was alone, lying there almost naked and asleep.
The darkened lighting from the candles made it hard to see much further into the room.
“Bla aaake?” I called out. I sat up and looked for my robe, but it seemed it had vanished! It was nowhere in sight.
Biting my lip, I pulled my long hair forward to co ver my breasts; it was good enough to cover my nipples, but not enough to cover the outline of my boobs.
I tried to gather my wits.
“In here!” called out Blake. Where was in here ? He barely echoed.
Slowly walking barefoot in a thong, and my boobs partially covered by my long hair, I glanced around in the dimly lit room.
“Blake!” my voice laced with
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