Page 165 of The Vacation Mix-Up
She jiggles my arm.
Damn it!
“Riiileyyy!”
Shut up!
The masseuse karate chops my back, making me bow and spring up to my elbows. “Jesus!”
“Allo!” She bends down, her face once again mere inches from mine. “You wake up now.”
“We’re finished?” I ask, not waiting for a reply. “Brilliant! I feel like a new man. Thank you very much.”
“No! Not finished.” She lifts my towel. “You lie on back now.”
I snatch it from her. “No. I’m done.”
“No. You lie on back.”
“No. I stay on front.”
Riles raises her head and rubs her eyes. “You need to turn over so they can do your quads.”
“My quads are fine.”
“Uh-ah,” the woman says, her fingers painfully digging into my hamstring. “Much tension in legs. I help with that.”
I wince and shake her off me. “No, thank you.”
Riles rises to her elbows as well, and I catch sight of the side of her breast before she covers up with her towel and flips onto her back.
Jesus Christ, sweetheart. You’re not helping my case.
She frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“So turn over.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can.”
I give her my best I-have-an-erection face.
She gives me the same face back.
What the hell?
Blinking at her, I’m ready to just stand the hell up and own it, when her eyes shoot toward my groin, then back to my face.
“Really?” she asks.
“Yes, really.”
