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Authors: Violette Dubrinsky
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true. If she knew, Ilyana would be very proud. Carpe diem was the woman’s motto. This was one of those things her mother would understand, and even approve of.
***
Jezebel dropped her sister off at her mother’s house, where Delilah was currently staying, and was heading back to her car, when the text message came in.
How do you feel?
Staring at the unknown number, she responded, Fine. Who is this?
Ramsey. Are you sure you feel...fine?
She remembered him telling her that he’d gotten her number from the spa logs and she knew exactly what he was referring to with “fine.” Of course she wasn’t fine. She constantly felt like he was still pushed up inside of her, despite checking to make sure he was no longer there.
Just peachy.
No tension?
Should I have tension?
Yes.
Why?
He didn’t respond and she hopped into her car, and started the ignition. A beep made her look down at her phone.
What are you doing right now?
I’m busy. She wasn’t. She had to do some grocery shopping and would probably go through a few proposals that she had to look over by Wednesday, but otherwise, she was free as a bird.
Doing what?
Busy things.
Come to the spa for 4 p.m.
Can’t.
I’ll make it worth your while.
She frowned. If he thought she was having sex with him the day after he put her poor kitty in a coma, he had another thing coming.
No you won’t.
No?
I won’t be your booty-call.
But you’ll be my one-night stand?
Yes.
Nothing wrong with that in her book. They were adults. If she wanted to be a one-night stand or a booty call, she could. Hell, if she wanted to whore, she could do that too, but she didn’t have the stamina for it.
She smirked.
Come to the spa. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.
No.
You enjoy being difficult, Jezebel.
She rolled her eyes.
Come to the spa...please.
Why?
I’m sure you could use a massage after last night.
Honestly, she could. A hot shower had relieved some of the ache but not all, and her back, which had been overextended last night, had a dull ache.
Just a massage?
Just a massage. Promise.
4 p.m.?
Yes.
It was just after 2. Because she wanted to be difficult, she replied, 5 p.m.
See you then.
***
Yari was working when Jezebel arrived at the spa and told her of her five o’clock appointment.
The young girl looked apologetic as she told her that the Red Room was ready for her. Another girl escorted her to the room, saying she should remove her clothes, shower if she wanted, and put on one of the towels. She knew the drill, having done it before.
Jezebel took a hot shower, glad for the shower caps provided, then towel dried herself. The body-wash smelled amazing—cinnamon and spice. She’d have to ask if she could buy some because it was truly relaxing. She’d just wrapped another fluffy towel around her body when she heard the sound of footsteps.
Ramsey had arrived.
Stepping from the bathroom, she found him standing beside the massage table. He was dressed in the white clothes of a masseuse—again they were a bit fitted—and had a warm smile on his face and an easy twinkle in his eye.
“I didn’t think you’d show.”
“I said I would.” She moved to the table, and sat on it, facing him.
“Do you always honor what you say?”
She nodded.
He grinned, and she resisted the urge to bite her bottom lip. It should be illegal for any man to be this attractive. Seriously, how was a person to concentrate when the other person looked so damn good?
“Tell me, Jezebel, where do you feel tension?”
She could lie and say she had none but Jezebel wanted the ache in her back gone. “My back...my thighs...my shoulders...”
Ramsey nodded. “Lie down on your belly.”
She did as told, hearing his footsteps moving away and then the sound of water running. She loved that he was so clean. He was touching her skin after all.
When he approached again, bottles clinked, and then warmth spread along her back. As he massaged the oil into her
***
Jezebel dropped her sister off at her mother’s house, where Delilah was currently staying, and was heading back to her car, when the text message came in.
How do you feel?
Staring at the unknown number, she responded, Fine. Who is this?
Ramsey. Are you sure you feel...fine?
She remembered him telling her that he’d gotten her number from the spa logs and she knew exactly what he was referring to with “fine.” Of course she wasn’t fine. She constantly felt like he was still pushed up inside of her, despite checking to make sure he was no longer there.
Just peachy.
No tension?
Should I have tension?
Yes.
Why?
He didn’t respond and she hopped into her car, and started the ignition. A beep made her look down at her phone.
What are you doing right now?
I’m busy. She wasn’t. She had to do some grocery shopping and would probably go through a few proposals that she had to look over by Wednesday, but otherwise, she was free as a bird.
Doing what?
Busy things.
Come to the spa for 4 p.m.
Can’t.
I’ll make it worth your while.
She frowned. If he thought she was having sex with him the day after he put her poor kitty in a coma, he had another thing coming.
No you won’t.
No?
I won’t be your booty-call.
But you’ll be my one-night stand?
Yes.
Nothing wrong with that in her book. They were adults. If she wanted to be a one-night stand or a booty call, she could. Hell, if she wanted to whore, she could do that too, but she didn’t have the stamina for it.
She smirked.
Come to the spa. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.
No.
You enjoy being difficult, Jezebel.
She rolled her eyes.
Come to the spa...please.
Why?
I’m sure you could use a massage after last night.
Honestly, she could. A hot shower had relieved some of the ache but not all, and her back, which had been overextended last night, had a dull ache.
Just a massage?
Just a massage. Promise.
4 p.m.?
Yes.
It was just after 2. Because she wanted to be difficult, she replied, 5 p.m.
See you then.
***
Yari was working when Jezebel arrived at the spa and told her of her five o’clock appointment.
The young girl looked apologetic as she told her that the Red Room was ready for her. Another girl escorted her to the room, saying she should remove her clothes, shower if she wanted, and put on one of the towels. She knew the drill, having done it before.
Jezebel took a hot shower, glad for the shower caps provided, then towel dried herself. The body-wash smelled amazing—cinnamon and spice. She’d have to ask if she could buy some because it was truly relaxing. She’d just wrapped another fluffy towel around her body when she heard the sound of footsteps.
Ramsey had arrived.
Stepping from the bathroom, she found him standing beside the massage table. He was dressed in the white clothes of a masseuse—again they were a bit fitted—and had a warm smile on his face and an easy twinkle in his eye.
“I didn’t think you’d show.”
“I said I would.” She moved to the table, and sat on it, facing him.
“Do you always honor what you say?”
She nodded.
He grinned, and she resisted the urge to bite her bottom lip. It should be illegal for any man to be this attractive. Seriously, how was a person to concentrate when the other person looked so damn good?
“Tell me, Jezebel, where do you feel tension?”
She could lie and say she had none but Jezebel wanted the ache in her back gone. “My back...my thighs...my shoulders...”
Ramsey nodded. “Lie down on your belly.”
She did as told, hearing his footsteps moving away and then the sound of water running. She loved that he was so clean. He was touching her skin after all.
When he approached again, bottles clinked, and then warmth spread along her back. As he massaged the oil into her
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