Ava

 

What did he just ask me? Did this insanely gorgeous man just offer to give me a massage? He must be kidding.

Is he flirting with me?

I don't know what to make of this. It would be ridiculous to think that someone like him could actually be interested in me.

“E-e-excuse me?” I stutter like an idiot.

He’s still smiling, but narrows his eyes, now looking at me with a somewhat dangerous appeal.

“Would like to get a massage—by me?” he repeats his offer. “I’ve been told I’m quite good at them.”

I continue to stare at him, unable to take his offer seriously. “Is this a joke?”

He shakes his head.

“Why not? I enjoy giving them, too,” he says. “You can leave your towel on, and I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

“Here?”  I ask. “Now?”

He shrugs. “Sure. Or do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

I shake my head. “No. Of course not.”

“Then why don’t you let me sweeten this special day for you?” he asks. “Consider it an early Christmas present from a generous stranger.”

I can’t believe myself, when I find that I'm nodding and agreeing to his surreal offer. This is so awkward. We just met, he’s a complete stranger, and he’s about to touch my imperfect body.

But he’s so damn sexy, too. My heart is racing at the thought of his strong hands on my body. He must be strong, judging by the prominent muscles that adorn his upper body. This man must work out a lot, he looks like a perfectly defined bronze sculpture. The sweat that’s dripping off his muscular chest only enhances his seductive appearance.

My heart is about to jump out of my chest when he gets up, his muscles flexing before my eyes as he comes closer, smiling at me as if I were the irresistible person in this room.

“Lie down, on your belly,” he says, his voice surprisingly commanding. It sends hot shivers through my body, including my core.

I get up from my seat and hesitate.

“Could you…,”

“Yes, of course,” he says and turns around to avert his eyes from me. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

I pause for a moment, before I awkwardly climb on the bench, still holding the towel wrapped around my body and making sure I’m not exposing anything delicate before I tell him that I’m ready.

“Okay,” he says, approaching the bench. Even in this climate, I can feel the heat of his body next to me. “I may have to move the towel a little, so I can massage your back.”

“Sure,” I breathe, closing my eyes.

I try not to jump when I feel his strong hands on my body for the first time, as he removes the towel so that it only covers my ass, exposing the side of my boobs, because they are impossible to hide when I’m lying down on my belly.

“This is the area that often gets overlooked in massages,” he says. “So, I’ll start there.”

He starts massaging the region just above my hips, starting at the side and then slowly moving over to the back. I can feel my cheeks burn with the heat of embarrassment, as I am all too aware of all the extra baby fat that's been sitting around the middle of my body since puberty. 

I have been told that my shape was sexy by quite a few men in my life, but I have also been ridiculed for my stature enough to outweigh all the compliments. It saddens me, but I feel like there is very little I can do about it.

Now that this surreally handsome man's hands are on me, I cannot help but feel vulnerable and ashamed about the body he is touching.

He uses his thumbs to push against a certain spot on my lower back, just above my ass. The pressure feels so good that I let out a little moan.

I hear him chuckle behind me, close to my ear. 

“Feels good, huh?” he whispers.

I nod in silence. 

Oh my God, how embarrassing!

Now, his massage wanders lower, toward my thighs.

“You are tense, Ava,” he notices as he lifts one of my legs up, bending my knee and gently pushing my foot toward my behind. “Why is that?”

Because you are so fucking hot—and you are touching me in a way that you might think is innocent, but feels so very different.

I blush at my honest thoughts and find myself unable to come up with anything clever to say. “I don’t know.”

His massage continues down to my calves, but he doesn't spend nearly half as much time with them as he did with my thighs and my lower back. Soon, his hands wander back up and he places his thumbs on my spine just above my behind and gently pushes down on the same spot he did earlier. Again, I cannot suppress a little moan.

“That feels so... good,” I murmur.

“Glad to hear it,” he says and moves his hand further up my back toward my shoulder blades. He starts massaging my back and shoulders thoroughly before he moves along to my upper arms.

His hands stroke along my shoulder blades on his way back, surpassing them and moving to my side. His massage was so relaxing it even made me forget about my body insecurities or the fact that his god-like looks made my heart dance in silly moves.

But his next move causes my eyes to go wide. His hands are placed at my sides respectively. However, he doesn't leave them there but moves them further to the front, now clearly touching my boobs at the side.

My head is turned away from him, so he cannot see my surprised expression. I wait for him to remove his hands, but instead, he starts caressing along the bulge of my breasts. His touch is careful and soft, testing. He doesn't move them further, but his motions change. Instead of massaging me and giving release to my tense muscles, he is now fondling me like a shy lover.

He doesn't go any further but keeps his hands in place for a few moments. I can feel his eyes on me. I could yank him away, yell at him, accuse him of being intrusive. But none of that comes to mind.

It feels too good. I don't know how, but some part of him must know that I want this. That I wouldn't object.

If anything, I want him to go further to get a better feel of the only body part of myself that I actually like. My boobs may be a little big, but they suit my frame perfectly and they are so fucking sensitive, even the slightest touch by the right man can cause me to become dizzy with lust.

A man like him.

I am confused. Flattered, intrigued, nervous, but overall highly confused.

I can feel him lean over to get closer to my head.

“Do you like that, too?” he whispers next to my ear. His seductive tone sends shivers through my core.

“Yes,” I breathe.

As soon as I do, his hands gain a little confidence and move further, now almost reaching around to my front and fully grasping my boobs, as far as that is possible with me lying on my belly.

I moan as he squeezes them. Holy shit, what is happening here?

To my disappointment, he lets go of them right after that moan escaped my lips. His hands quickly withdraw to my back and change over to a proper massage again.

My heart rate is nowhere near resting now, I know that for sure. What the hell was that? Did I just imagine it? Or was this insanely hot man actually hitting on me? That can't be it. He must be making fun of me...

He stops massaging my back and lets his hands rest below my shoulder blades. For a moment, neither of us moves.

“Look at me,” he says, again in his domineering tone.

I understand this as a request to sit up, so I pick myself up, wrapping the towel around me as tight as I can, even though he is gentleman enough to avert his eyes for the moment.

Once I’m all set, sitting on the bench next to him, our eyes meet.

“You are stunning, Ava,” he whispers, caressing my cheek with the tip of his index finger. “However, the things I want to do to you would require a little bit more privacy.”

I blush at his words, incapable of believing my ears. Did he really just say that?

I lean into his teach, my eyes locked onto his, silently begging for a kiss.

Thank God, he doesn’t embarrass me by not answering my plea. His lips meet mine with hungry force and before I know it, our tongues are intertwining, my chest heaving as the sexiest man I've ever seen claims me with a sensual kiss.

He is kissing me! Derek Cartwright, the sexiest man alive, is kissing me!

I cannot believe this is happening. I am so awestruck at first that I don't even kiss him back, but just let it happen. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer, so that I can feel his hard chest muscles pressing against me.

He doesn't take my confusion as rejection but forces himself on me without waiting for an invitation. His tongue explores my mouth hungrily, claiming me like a starved animal.

When I finally overcome my wonder at his sudden actions, I dare to kiss him back, moving my arm up in an attempt to place it around his neck, a passionate move that is usually welcomed during passionate kisses.

Not with him, though. He instantly grabs my wrist and pushes it down, forcing my arm behind my back while pulling my head back by my hair with his other hand.

Our kiss stops and he looks at me, quietly searching for confirmation while I just stare up at him helplessly. I am panting and my accelerated heart rate is no longer a secret, even without the strap around my arm that enables a telltale number on a display.

He leans forward and seductively bites my lower lip before wandering lower, his tongue wandering along the side of my neck while I moan and quiver beneath him.

“You're so fucking delicious,” he whispers as he bites into my skin.

I gasp for air, my eyes widened in disbelief.