My Favorite Massage Client (Girls Playing with Fire #9)

I was looking forward to his appointments like it was Christmas.

I could've been a barista. Or worked in a pet store. I could've taken any of the hundred jobs in the big shopping mall next to the University. I liked working with my hands. I liked making people feel better. That was why I got my qualification as a massage therapist in the first place. So... I got a job at a fancy spa to help pay for my tuition.

My clients came in frowning and they left smiling. I loved my job!

We didn't offer happy endings. It wasn't that sort of place. There were some who asked, more or less subtly, if I could take things to another level. Even if it weren't against the rules, I was never tempted.

And then he walked into my life.

He was everything I never knew I wanted until I had him on my table. The first man I wished would ask for something more. But he never did.

If I wanted him, I'd have to take things into my own hands. Not literally, of course. I was a professional after all. So what if my hands sweated at the mere thought of touching him? So what if I looked forward to his appointments like it was Christmas? So what if once a week my fingers tingled with the desire to check his package?

I'm not the kind of girl who waits for Santa to make her dreams come true. I make things happen. And now it's time to get my hands dirty to get what I want.