Page 22 of Climb Me Maybe
"Whatisthe point, Brady?"She asks, crossing her arms over her chest."Because from where I'm standing, two consenting adults shared a kiss.Nothing wrong with that."
I shake my head."You're here for work.I don't want to mess that up for you."
"You won't."She reaches out, her fingers brushing my forearm."Look, I have a rule about not getting involved with clients.But since you're not technically paying me..."
My stomach drops."I really shouldn't get massages from you anymore.It wouldn't be right."
“So you don’t want massages either?Why not?”
"Because…of what happened.Because I obviously have a hard time controlling myself around you and I can't promise it won't happen again."
Her lips curve into a small smile."I don't want you to promise that."
The words confuse me."What?”
She huffs."Sure, it wouldn’t be right for you to give me a testimonial for the spa interview.That’s not ethical.But there's no payment involved here, no professional conflict."She steps closer."You were just starting to trust me, to let mehelpyou.I don't want you to lose that progress because you're overthinking this."
"I'm not overthinking?—"
"You are."Her smile widens."It's kind of adorable, actually."
I stare at her, stunned."You're not upset?"
"About the kiss?Brady, that kiss was…mind-blowing.I can’t stop thinking about it.”Heat creeps up my neck as she continues."I'm only upset that you ran away afterward."
"I didn't know what else to do."
"You don’t give yourself enough credit.Next time, stick around and see what happens."Her fingers trace along my forearm, and I shiver.
She said ‘next time.’
"So, do you want to skip today's session?”she asks.“Or can we be adults about this?"
I should probably say yes, skip it, and maintain some distance.
Instead, I hear myself asking, "What time?"
She grins."Two o'clock?"
I nod, not trusting my voice.
* * *
When I arrive at her cabin later, I'm not prepared for Imogen answering the door in tiny cutoff sweat shorts that show off her toned legs and a baby tank that barely covers her sweet breasts.
"Hi," she says, stepping aside to let me in, and I try not to stare at the way those shorts cling to her plump little ass.Or how the thin fabric of her top does nothing to hide her stiff nipples.
"H-hey."My voice comes out rougher than intended.
The room's set up as usual—massage table, soft lighting, the scent of eucalyptus in the air.But something feels different.Maybe it’s how Imogen is eyeing me.
"Same routine," she says, as her eyes drag down my body slowly.“But leave the boxers off this time.Get comfortable."
Naked?I gulp.
I strip down and position myself face down on the table, pulling the sheet over my lower half.
“Ready,” I manage to croak out.
