Bodywork (4 page)

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By six thirty,
Shelby
had
finished with her last client of the day and waved as the kind woman departed.
Arching her back, she tried to rub away som
e of her own tension,
knowing her night was
far from over
.
She returned to the front desk to catch up on paperwork.

Massage
therapy helped rid the body of contaminants
and generally relieved stress.
Yet more times than not, Shelby found herself mired in bills and the business side of things rather than dealing with the
healing
nature of her profession.

The phone rang, breaking into her thoughts.
After taking the message, she frowned at the
closed
door
of her
massage room
, wishing like hell the contractor would finish patching up the wall in Denise’s room
.
She checked the appointment book and noted
Shane Collins
scrawled in Denise’s barely legible handwriting.
The appointment listed at six o’clock
, so Denise more than likely had another half hour to go.
Damn, she hated to interrupt
the
massage
,
but she knew Denise would need to act on the message right away.

Shelby knocked quietly on the closed door and heard a low murmur from the room.
Denise opened the door
an inch
and peered out.

“
W
hat’s up?”

“I’m sorry
,
but I’ve got a message for you that’s urgen
t.”

“No problem.” Denise
called
over her shoulder,
“Shane
?
I’m sorry.
I have to take
this
call, but I’ll be right back.”
A low male voice answered before she
left the room and
closed the door behind her
, then
moved to the desk.
“So who called?”

“Sorry, but it’s the man in your life. I’m afraid he’s broken his leg.”
Shelby waited for the worried explosion sure to follow.
Denise was fanatical about her man.

“Oh my God!
Cupcake!
What happened?
Was that my mother?”

“Yeah.
Your mom said he must have gotten loose somehow and ran out of the yard.
A car d
riving at the speed limit hit him
, so he’s not too roughed up
.
I know you’ll want to see how he’s doing.
Why don’t you go
,
and I’ll finish up your client?”

Denise had tears in her eyes.
Cupcake meant the world to her.
A scrawny mutt she’d picked up at the pound, he’d been with her through thick and thin.
“Are you sure?” Denise wip
ed
her eyes.

Shelby handed Denise her car keys from the desk and nodded.
“Go on home.
Gi
ve me a call
later
and let me know how he’s doing.”

Denise flew out the door
, and
Shelby shook her head.
She
prayed, for Denise’s peace of mind, th
at th
e dog would make it.

Realizing she now had a client to pacify, she quickly moved into the bathroom to wash her hands and returned to
her
room.
She entered to the soothing sounds of new age music and the slight aroma of jasmine from the burning candles in the corner.
Dim yet peaceful, the room radiated serenity and relaxation.

“I’m sorry about the interruption,” she said quietly to the man lying on his stomach
with
his head
down and resting in the doughnut-
shaped pillow
which allowed for ease of breathing
.
He appeared almost asleep, his back rising and falling evenly,
but
he mumbled something she couldn’t quite hear.
Before she could say anything more
,
he turned his head to the side, his eyes still closed.

Shelby
barely
contained
her
dismay.
Upon her table la
y
the half-naked form of Mr. Tall, Dark
,
and Rude from this morning, his upper body bare, a sheet draped over his lower back
, buttocks,
and legs.
She glanced at the clothing rack on the wall to confirm his identity.
The same black jacket and dark trousers hung from a hook, along with a blue shirt.

She stared back down at him and resisted the urge to lean into his ear and yell at him to get the hell out of her clinic.
That would scare the
impoliteness
out of him.
But her professionalism wouldn’t let her.
Word of mouth traveled fast
,
and this guy already didn’t like her.
She frowned at the thought of him telling people bad things about her clinic and could almost see the dollar signs flying away.

Grimacing
at his unfairly handsome face, she wondered why he’d ventured into her clinic, of all places.
Seattle had more than
fifty
massage clinics
open at any given time,
yet Mr. Rude managed to pick hers.
Some cosmic joke at work, surely.
She
swore under her breath
.

“
I’m
going to turn
your head so you don’t strain your neck.”
She
t
urned his face back into the doughnut-
shaped pillow.
Frowning at
the feel of his skin under her palms,
she felt
uncomfortable with the heat that raced up her arms.
She shook off the strangeness and focused on the rest of the massage.

As she continued to work on his back, she couldn’t help noticing the smooth muscles and power in his build.
He had a very nice body
, she thought
with
objectiv
ity
.
As a person comfortable and familiar with human physiology, she
was
a good judge of such things.
And a person would need to be blind and plain
oblivious
not to see that this man kept in
very
good shape.
He had wonderful tone and definition
. W
orking on him was actually very easy due to his fluidity.

As she
brought clinical detachment to the forefront of her thoughts,
she scrambled to bury the needy woman inside her screaming to see how his ass might feel under her hands.

“Does that feel al
l
right?” she asked softly
. S
he didn’t want him to know she wasn’t Denise.
He needed to get
his money’s worth
a
nd at the same time think positively about Bodyworks.
If
she gave him a great massage
,
he’d be too relaxed to be angry with her when he paid her at the session’s end
and recognized her.
She hoped
.

“Mmm,” he mumbled.
“That feels great.”

T
he sexy rasp of his voice
made her belly flutter
.
Her massage was
n’t
in the least bit sexual
,
but she couldn’t help fee
ling
arousal at contact with his body.
God, I am not getting turned on by this guy. He’s
a lump of clay, something
I can
mold into healthy muscles.

She continued to work on his back.
Then she changed position to work on his legs, keeping the sheet in place over his
firm, tight ass.
Buttocks, not ass. Ass is sexy. Buttocks is professional.
She felt like a mental patient at odds with herself. Not the best time for slutty Shelby to make an appearance.

“I
need to move
the sheet so I can get to your legs
.
”
Even as she said it she hes
itated, waiting for his assent, half hoping he’d insist he didn’t need any more of her time, half wishing he’d tell her to
get rid of the sheet
and hop on.

“Go ahead,” he
rumbled.
“I’m half asleep as it is.”

She
lby gritted her teeth and moved the sheet. Then she
worked on the muscles of his legs, moving over his quadriceps and calves.
They were rock hard
and incredibly sexy—
firm, athletic
.
Not sexy. Clients were never sexy. Rule number one of massage.

“Are you a runner?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Mmm, hmm
.
Every day I can.”

“Your legs are very
toned
.”
She worked a rough section of his quad
s
.
Smoothing over the fascia, the connective tissue covering the muscle, she released a build-up of toxins in his body.
He sighed
,
and she moved down toward his calves, then to his feet.

He shifted a bit,
and she stopped.

“Does it tickle?”

He mumbled
a yes
,
and she grinned.
Maybe she could torture him by tying him down and tickling his feet, demanding an apology for
her ruined coffee
.
Or better yet, she could tie him up and blindfold him, then have her wicked way with him
with
none the wiser.

Oh hell.
H
er sexual hiatus ha
d
come
to a
crashing halt.
For some stupid reason
,
this jerk had jumped her libido but good.
She hadn’t been able to ge
t him out of her mind all day, and she
’d tried.
Now, after
touching him… S
he
glanced down at her nipples, horrified to see them
through her shirt,
standing at attention
.

S
he’d blame her obvious arousal on the air conditioner if she had to.
She might be able to ignore that, but the tingling between her legs and her racing pulse? Not so much.

Why did Mr. Rude have to have the best ass she’d ever
not
seen, the sexiest legs she’d ever felt, and the smoothest skin she’d ever touched?

She cl
osed
her eyes and breathed deeply, calling on every ounce of professionalism and neutrality she could muster.
It really would
n’t do to have her client catch
her ogling his
body
.
She c
ould lose her license for less.

Shelby
opened her eyes and
rei
ned
in her crazy impulses, determined to give him what he paid for.
But she
needed him to turn over
to finish
.
Good God, she could all too easily imagine giving him a “happy ending” and turning into the cliché from hell.

Let it go, woman. Finish the massage
,
then
go find a man.

“Okay Shane
.
Now I need you to turn over so I can do your front.”
Ignore the innuendo. Ignore the innuendo.

He
visibly
tensed, and she held her breath, praying.

Chapter Three

Shane couldn’t believe how relaxed he felt, not to mention aroused.
Denise hadn’t done one thing inappropriate or unseemly, yet the minute she’d walked back into the room he’d felt the nerve endings in his
body
shift to
focus between his legs. His cock might well have been made of iron.

Shit. S
he wanted him to turn over?
He opened his eyes and stared
through the
open
pillow
at the floor
.
God, had he ever been in a more embarrassing position? And his
mother
knew
these people.
Christ, he really needed to end this.

“Uh, that’s okay.
I just needed some work on my back.
I actually have
an appointment I just remembered I need to get to
.
Don’t worry about the rest. This was great.” Such a lame excuse, but he couldn’t think past the pounding in his cock.

“If you’re sure.
”
Denise
sounded relieved
. O
r was that his
guilty
subconscious talking?
“I’ll b
e outside while you change.”