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Forbidden Fantasies Bundle(28)

By:Dawn Atkins & Cara Summers & Jo Leigh


Even the bottoms of his feet looked delectable. Broad but with a graceful instep. She was drawn again to his backside. She felt like weeping with longing.

Rick’s eyes closed.

Samantha’s eyes closed, too, and a lovely fantasy flitted across her brain. She was naked, coated in Mona’s massage oil, slithering all over Rick’s back, then rolling him over so they were face-to-face and as slippery as seals who hadn’t had sex in a really, really long time.

His hands were on her breasts, sliding down her stomach and down…there. Her sex, which felt like a tiny water balloon, filled and heavy, ready to burst.

“Uhhh…”

Who groaned? In horror, Samantha realized it was her. She’d moaned out loud. Damn. She backed up, caught herself on the counter, bumping the volume knob on the CD player. Enya’s honey voice roared out.

“Sorry, sorry.” She turned it down. “My stomach’s been bothering me.” She moaned again, rubbing her tummy. As if anyone could mistake that aroused sound for indigestion.

“I’ve got time after this if you need a massage, Sammi,” Mona said, laughter in her voice.

“No. No. I should go….”

“It feels as good as it looks,” Rick said, his voice a rumble of relaxed pleasure. Didn’t this get to him? She felt as though they were playing pretend-this-doesn’t-excite-you chicken and she’d just lost.

“So, turn over, Rubber Muscles Man,” Mona said, “so I can do your front.” She patted him lightly on the shoulder.

Rick frowned. “I, um, think one side’s enough.”

Mona paused, then something registered. “Okay. Sure.” She looked straight at Samantha. Another beat and Samantha figured it out, too. Rick had an erection. Because of her? She had to hope so. Mona had told her that once in a while men got hard-ons on her table. She ignored it, sticking strictly to the “civilized” muscle groups, and it was never a big deal.

“We’ll let you dress,” Mona said to Rick, and motioned for Samantha to leave with her.

“Look what you did to that poor man,” she said as soon as they were outside the door. “And you with your moan.”

“It just slipped out.”

“He likes you.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me so. And, hell, I could see he had you in three Kama Sutra poses in his mind just saying hello.”

She moaned again. “But it’s no use. He has a girlfriend.” Her disappointment swelled, filling her chest with pain.

“He told you that?”

“Yes. After I threw myself at him.”

“You threw yourself at him? I’m proud of you, girl. I never thought you’d have the nerve.” Mona hugged her.

“But so what? He’s taken.”

Mona considered the idea, tapping her lip. “I didn’t get that vibe. Maybe they’re about to break up.”

“He was very firm.”

“Oh, he was firm, all right.”

Samantha slugged her on the arm, then shook her head, staring at the door behind which Rick was covering his gorgeous, oil-slick body. She sighed and changed the subject. “So, what’s happening with you and Mr. Regular?”

“He’s still regular,” she sighed. “I have to practically pour him out of the shop every day, he’s so loose. He must be doing great at rugby.”

“He’s not coming here because of rugby, Mona. Give the guy a chance. He’s decent, he’s kind. He’s loyal.”

“So is a beagle, but I’m not dating one.”

“How can you give me advice about men when you’re locked up as tight as…what? The trapezius on a gymnast! That tight.”

“Ooh, muscle names. Excellent, Sammi.”

“See, I listen to you. Now listen to me.”

“It’s not professional to date a client.”

“So send him to another therapist.”

“I make him feel good, so he has a crush on me. Big deal.”

“He brings you lunch, he listens to your problems and he tells you his. That’s a relationship, hon.”

Before she could protest further, Rick emerged, dressed, but rumpled and pink in the face. “Thanks, Mona,” he said. He twisted his head from side to side, testing his neck. “I haven’t had this much mobility in a while.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Everything’s looser.”

Then his eyes snagged Samantha’s. Not quite everything. “Thanks for paying for this,” he said.

“My pleasure.” And her agony.

“You were right. I hardly know my own name.”

It’s Rick, Rick, oh, Rick. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she managed to say. At least she’d gotten a new fantasy for her checklist—oiled-up, naked massage. She sighed. She’d better start looking for a man to fulfill her fantasies before she was tempted to jump Rick with the nearest quart of Mazola.