That had quite a ring to it. I gave her my name and she flipped a page in her notebook—no computer system here—and tapped her finger against the paper. “Yes, you’re starting with a hair and scalp massage, followed by a warm seashell full-body massage, then a sugar glow, banana leaf wrap, exfoliating facial, waxing, and then manicure and pedicure.
Wow. Ben had really gone all out. Booked everything on their spa menu by the sounds of it. I nodded as a slow smile uncurled on my lips.
I was led into a small, dim room with a massage bed in the center. The soothing music was playing in here, too, and I was instructed to remove everything but my underpants and slip under the crisp, white sheet. I did as I was told as soon as she was out of the room, already anticipating this experience.
When the door reopened, an older lady who couldn’t have been much over five feet tall entered and greeted me with a warm smile.
“Welcome. My name is Elenoa. Are you ready to begin?” She had a pretty Polynesian accent, her voice gentle with almost a singsong quality to it.
“Yes, very much.”
She graced me with another warm smile. “You’re really getting the full package today.”
That was Ben, treating me to the very best . . . unless he thought I needed all these treatments to look better. No. I wouldn’t let my ugly insecurities mar this day. He was being generous. Nothing else.
Elenoa turned to the small counter and began mixing various ingredients into a small wooden bowl. “We’ve cultivated a unique blend of pressed nut oils infused with tropical flowers that rejuvenate and nourish your skin. Today I’ll use a mixture of passionflower, white ginger lily, and virgin coconut oil.”
I nodded. That sounded lovely.
She set to work and the relaxing blend of aromatherapy oils, coupled with the expert way her hands kneaded my stiff muscles, sent my mind wandering in a relaxed, dreamy state.
I thought about my parents back home and felt a twinge of guilt. My parents had been married for twenty-five years and had never had a vacation. Not even a honeymoon. Suddenly all this felt far too extravagant. But my mom had been happy for me when I’d called and told her about the trip. I shouldn’t feel guilty. I should enjoy this. We were here for Ben’s job.
Being Ben’s assistant certainly had its perks. My boneless body and semi-conscious mind were proof of that. He was a great boss. I wondered what he was doing right now. Probably frolicking on the beach with London and her coconuts. Even though I was thoroughly enjoying all these luxurious treatments, I vowed to myself that next time I wouldn’t abandon Ben alone at a shoot. Elenoa scrubbed my entire body in a ginger root masque then wrapped me in warm banana leaves, which felt so warm and good. I felt like a yummy, fruit concoction. If I reached out and licked my arm, it’d probably taste good. While the warm body masque set, I was treated to a papaya fruit enzymes facial.
After all the body treatments were done, the painful part began. She said the couple days’ worth of stubble on my legs was the perfect length for waxing, and so I got full legs and a Brazilian bikini wax. I was pretty confident the latter hurt worse than childbirth, but the result was so pretty and smooth. After a manicure and pedicure I headed back to our hotel room. Ben was still gone so I ordered us lunch from room service and fell back onto the bed to rest. Was this really my life? Because a girl could get used to his.
• • •
I squirmed on the bed, trying to get farther away from Ben’s reach. When he’d returned we’d eaten lunch, showered, and crawled into bed, still naked and damp, to cuddle.
“Don’t.” I tugged the sheet up higher around my waist to shield my lady parts, never mind the fact my br**sts were bare.
“Let me see.” Ben smiled, his eyes playful on mine. He’d seemed amused when we showered, wanting to look at the Brazilian bikini wax that left me completely smooth and bare. “I need to inspect their work. Make sure you got the full-service package.” He gripped the sheet and tugged it away as I opened my hands, letting it slip down. Ben’s gaze left mine and traveled slowly downward.
I pushed my thighs together. “Stop looking at it. It’s awkward.”
Ben pressed my knees apart. “Look at yourself, baby. You’re beautiful.” His fingertip lightly stroked my inner thigh and little chill bumps erupted along my skin. “Has no one ever told you how pretty your pu**y is?”
My cheeks erupted in heat. I shook my head. Sex in the dark, under the covers, was my norm before he came along.
“It’s like a little pink flower . . . look.” I dared a glance downward. His thumbs parted my inner lips, the gentle touch both highly erotic and innocent. A throaty breath escaped me and Ben’s gaze found mine. “See, you’re perfect down there.”
“If you say so,” I murmured.
“Don’t you like looking at me?”
I nodded eagerly.
A slow smile crept over his mouth. “Good to know. Well, that’s how I feel about looking at you. You turn me on so much, baby.”
Glancing down, it was impossible not to notice the rather large bulge at his hips where the sheet tented outward.
It didn’t seem to be possible for us to go more than a few hours without sex. I kept waiting for that part of our relationship to cool, but that hadn’t happened yet. He was sexy as hell and my body craved him. I wasn’t about to deny it.
12
Emmy
I woke to Ben trailing soft sucking kisses against the back of my neck. I was still fitted against him, just how we’d curled up the night before, cradled in his arms. Except now the evidence of his arousal was pressing against me. It was hard to miss a nine-inch c**k nestled against the seam of my ass. I pressed back against him, eliciting a low moan. “Baby, you can’t do that.” His tone was a warning, his voice deep and sleepy. Ben laid several more damp kisses along the side of my throat as I turned my head, my mouth seeking his. I squirmed against him, rocking my hips and dragging my backside over his cock. “Fuck,” he murmured. “Misbehaving early this morning, Miss Clarke.”
“I think you secretly like it,” I taunted, rolling toward his scent and his gravelly voice. He was so incredibly sexy that I couldn’t resist the temptation of his body primed and ready so close to mine.
We lay side by side and one of his large palms cupped my cheek while his other hand moved between us, feeling me as though testing how wet I was.
“Shit, baby. You’re soaked.”
Blood rushed to my cheeks. I dipped my head, but eyes leaving his, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my body’s overly obvious reactions to him.