Page 36 of Second Chance Vacation

My voice cracks. “Yeah—I’m set up.”

The petite blonde from before reemerges in the room, the towel that was previously in her hand now accompanied by an amber glass bottle. She walks over to the table of like bottles, replacing one of them.

“I am going to lightly instruct you, but I won’t apply any pressure. Then, you will go in and repeat the motion I instruct. Do you have any questions?”

“—N-no, no questions.” He sounds…nervous?

When I was a kid, the question always came up. Would you rather be able to read minds or fly? I always said fly, but as eucalyptus fills my senses, I find myself pleading with whoever controls the superpower distribution to give me the ability to hear his thoughts, just this once.

As the music grows louder, I shift to face down through the face port on the table. She instructs Jackson, grasping the tops of my shoulders, dragging her hands outward. It feels great, but I want her to apply more pressure. I’m becoming acutely aware of the tension I am carrying. As quickly as her hands are on me, they are gone. She fumbles with the bottles in the corner, grabbing a bottle out of the collection. The smell of eucalyptus, much more intense than before, fills the room.

With the gentlest touch, Jackson’s hands find my shoulders. He applies pressure so precisely that a moan escapes my lips. The tension he is actively removing now returns with a vengeance. A familiar chuckle causes my cheeks to burn red before I feel his breath graze my neck.

“It’s fine, Viv. Relax,” Jackson says, the clear sound of a grin causing me to roll my eyes. He’s enjoying this.

With every application of pressure, I feel the tension melt away. His hands creep lower as he runs his thumbs along my spine. He pushes the blanket down to rest along my hips as he continues the pressure along my spine until he meets the dimples at the small of my back. With every touch, I feel pressure grow lower, building an ache between my thighs. As the blanket slides lower and lower, barely grazing the top of my ass, he pulls his hands away.

“Good job!” the instructor’s voice cuts through the tension and dulls my arousal. “Now that we’ve covered techniques for the back, we are going to move onto her legs.”

I feel her lightly instruct Jackson’s movements before providing him with more eucalyptus oil. The moment his touch meets my calf, I let out an audible groan, this time resisting the urge to tense up. It feels incredible. The soreness from yesterday’s activities has my legs feeling like jello. His touch is like heaven. With every inch he creeps upward, I feel the familiar ache from before pulsing back through my veins, settling between my legs. As he strokes my thighs, my hips shift slightly, causing my thighs to fall barely further apart.

The earthy notes of the incense mix with the eucalyptus, leaving my brain in a heady fog. I am convinced I can smell my own arousal, but I’m sure that is my paranoia creeping in. Relaxation paints me despite this.

My eyes fall closed.

The sound of the door clicking shut is the only thing to jerk me back to. Jackson, however, hasn’t removed his hands from my body. With every stroke of his fingers, tension melts away, causing me to fall further into his touch, although we are now alone.

“Jackson.” My voice sounds foreign, breathy.

“Just relax, Viv.” As he speaks, he increases the pressure on my thigh, causing me to let out another moan. I am internally pleading, begging him to move his touches higher. The ache from before clouds my brain, leaving me a needy mess.

As if he can read my mind, the touch I’ve been chasing begins moving upward again. Jackson’s thumb barely grazes just below my apex. The heat emanating from me is more than evident before he moves south again, not leaving my upper thighs.

“Please,” I beg, my internal plea finally breaking through my lips.

Jackson’s movement pauses for barely a second, just enough for me to be sure he hears my plea. His pressure from before returns, rubbing his thumbs firmly up the backs of my thighs. This time, his touch creeps up further—grazing the underside of my ass below the blanket. If I thought I was aching before, I am fucking on fire now. I am desperate for his touch—he, however, has different plans.

He is taking his sweet time.

Grasping the underside of my cheeks, Jackson kneads the area that I hadn’t realized was as sore as it was until he applied pressure. My eyes flutter open just in time to see the blanket hit the floor below the table. He doesn’t relent, as his touches become more pressured with each movement. My eyes roll back, lost in the feeling of his touch.

Jackson’s firm touch slides lower again, kneading my legs, his thumbs grazing up and down my thighs, barely touching the lace of my panties for a split second before he moves south again.

Bastard.

He’s teasing me, and I revel in it.

“Jackson.” The breathy moan that escapes my lips is unmistakable.

“Did you want something?” he asks nonchalantly.

I don’t respond. A moment of silence falls on us as his hands halt, awaiting my response.

“C’mon Viv—use your words. Where do you want me to touch you?”

He’s taunting me.

“There.”

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