Ah, summer vacation... if you’re a single woman, overworked and undervalued... where would you go to de-stress and live a bit of the good life? And, what if you were about to get a massage from a man known as the Massage Magician... what if you began mentally composing a postcard to your girlfriend...
Yep, here it is ~ Postcard from the Flash Edge
Oops...warning...bad word ahead...
The Massage Magician
I close my eyes and mentally compose a postcard to my girlfriend. After all, she set up this appointment as my birthday gift. Dear, Linda, my tension-abused body surrenders to the mauve, perfectly cushioned table. No, I don’t want to see him as he enters. I just want to feel what he’s going to do to me. You said he’s known as the Massage Magician. I soooo HOPE so. As I wait, I listen to the soothing ebb and flow of the ocean. The island birds trill and squawk, the perfect entertainment. I smile and drown in the paradise fragrances.
I hear footsteps, a strong slow stride, and almost silent. He’s probably barefoot. A breeze seems to follow him in. For moments, it plays over the bare skin of my shoulders and lifts strands of my hair. I’ve left it loose. I feel loose here. Everything is enchantment. The sun, the sea, the sky. Walking on the hot fine sand. The tropical blooms surrounding me. I swear they know how beautiful I find them. As he comes closer, I smell him. Lion, I think, because his scent is regal and sun-golden. He reeks of power, the deliciousness of I’m-here-to-take charge.
Something about him is familiar. But, I’m so zoned out and peacefully drunk on this paradise island, I don’t bother trying to figure out what it might be. I notice his steps stop, as if he’s slightly taken aback. However, I hear him move to me. The confidant way he brushes my hair to the side, then eases his hands onto my shoulders and begins a light massage, lulls me into a sweet much-needed relaxation. Gradually, he intensifies the pressure on my shoulder muscles, kneading them toward nirvana. “Oh...oooooh,” I moan. “That is so good. Don’t stop, Massage Magician.”
He pulls the sheet down my back, a sensual sliding of the lightweight cotton. Even though, his touch remains professional, somehow there’s a sense of intimacy. If his massage hadn’t been pure magic, relaxing me in a way I could only dream about, I would have paid more attention to the warning in the pit of my stomach. He pauses, then his fingertips graze the length of my spine. “You always did have the most beautiful back.” Shock drills through me. I launch upward. “You!” My fist shoots for his jaw. A direct satisfying hit, even if it does sting.
Okay, his expression suggests he’s stunned more than in pain. The fucking I-hate-him bastard! I grab for the sheet covering my naked breasts, and glare as he rubs his chin. “Get out of my way, or I’m punching you again.” His large lion-like body is blocking my exit. His gaze peruses my face and he doesn’t move. “You do remember,” he deeply purrs. I boil inside. My ears burn. “Get out of my way.” Feeling ruthless, I clench my hand and wind up. “Why wouldn’t I remember being dumped just before the prom?” Taking aim, I land another punch. Hard.
May your summer romance reading dreams come true...
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~