Page 68 of The One That Got Away

OMG. Max was completely naked under this towel. My nipples hardened. I hadn’t even touched him yet and I was already turned on.

‘Let us begin,’ Olga said, snapping me out of my illicit thoughts.

After switching on some relaxing spa music, she took a bottle of oil from the warmer and instructed me to pour it onto my palms then rub them together. ‘Start at the neck and shoulders,’ she advised.

As my hands connected with Max’s skin, desire surged through me. His shoulders were huge and although they were solid, the skin was beautifully soft.

‘Perhaps you should be firmer,’ Olga suggested. ‘Ask what he likes.’

‘How do you like it?’ I asked before realising that sounded sexual. ‘I mean, how’s the pressure?’

‘It’s…’ Max paused, ‘fine.’

I was hoping for more than justfine, but I’d only just started.

At various intervals, Olga gave me instructions, for example to count to thirty slowly in my head for every section that I massaged, so everywhere received a balanced amount of attention.

The more I relaxed and stopped worrying about whether I was doing it right, the more natural it felt. Running my palms over Max was heavenly.

Once I’d massaged his shoulders, neck and the centre of his back, my hands glided lower. When I got to the area above Max’s arse, he flinched.

‘Sorry,’ I said, worried I’d scratched him.

I continued kneading my thumbs into his hot, soft flesh like Olga had showed me, every touch sending a new wave of need ricocheting through me.

Trying to push the erotic thoughts out of my head at this point was pointless. My knickers were sodden, my nipples were harder than steel and I’d bitten my lip so much I was surprised it wasn’t bleeding.

My head was high with desire. I couldn’t even remember why I wasn’t supposed to like Max any more. And I didn’t care. I just wanted him.

‘That is the end of his massage now,’ Olga announced.

Already?

I glanced at my watch and, sure enough, an hour had passed. We’d probably spent at least ten minutes filling out the forms, talking to Olga and taking photos for our memory book at the beginning so it made sense.

‘Señor, please get up.’

‘Um.’ Max lifted his head from the face hole. ‘Maybe it’d be better if I stay here with my face down in this whilst Stella getsready on the other bed. Just to, er, give her some privacy whilst she changes?’

‘Señora?’ Olga asked.

‘Makes sense. Do you have the paper knickers?’ I asked her. The ones I was wearing were ruined.

I turned away, removed my vest, wrapped a towel around me and took off my bra and skirt before sliding off my damp knickers and rolling them up into a flannel. I then put on the paper ones Olga had given me.

Next I lay face down on the bed, pushing the towel as low as it could go around my waist. Definitely better that I did it. The less Max touched me, the better.

‘You are ready?’ Olga asked.

‘Yes,’ I confirmed.

‘I… okay,’ Max said. He didn’t sound sure. ‘Should I… get dressed?’

‘You are fine,’ Olga replied.

I heard her give him the same instructions that she gave me and seconds later, I felt his hands on me.

Holy. Shit.

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