Part 8 (1/2)
”All right.” She made up her mind and nodded. ”I suppose I can stay as long as I like too. I have my own business. It's small, but I like it that way, and since I'm the boss, I don't have to answer to anyone. But, unlike Damon, I can't afford to stay off indefinitely. How long I stay depends on how my father does, but I'm thinking that if I want to have a business to go back to, I shouldn't stay more than a few weeks.”
Her obvious enthusiasm added to his curiosity, and he asked, ”What kind of business is it?”
She chewed on her smile, then rolled her eyes. ”I'm a ma.s.sage therapist.”
”A...?”.
”Yeah, a ma.s.sage therapist. And I'm good.” She went on in a rush, as if to convince him. ”My shop is called The Soothing Touch and I've got a really dedicated clientele. When I told them all I'd be gone for a while, they wished me well and told me they'd be waiting for me when I got back.”
Casey stared. Not a single intelligent comment came to mind.
At his continued silence, Emma's smile faded and she gave him a defiant look. ”I started by working in the Tremont Hotel fitness center, then branched out on my own. Now I work from my own shop throughout the week, but I also do house or office calls over the weekend and in the evening. And once a month I teach sensual-ma.s.sage cla.s.ses to couples.”
The images that leaped to Casey's mind left him numb: Emma rubbing oil over a man's naked back, his thighs. Emma visiting some corporate a.s.shole in his office. Emma enjoying her d.a.m.n job.
Doing his best to keep the cynicism out of his tone, Casey repeated, ”Office calls, huh?”
She nodded. ”A lot of executives have high-stress jobs. They'll pay big bucks to have me come to the office and relax them during their lunch hour or before a big meeting.”
He absolutely hated the way she put that.
”I have portable equipment that I use. It's not the same as coming to the shop, but I carry special music and oils with me. Sometimes, if it's allowed in the offices, I'll light candles too.”
”Candles?”
”Mmm.” She looked displeased with his continued, short questions. ”You surround the client with soothing ambience. Incense or scented candles, soft music, low lights. I can make a body go boneless in a one-hour session.”
Casey's eyebrows pulled down in a suspicious frown. ”I just bet you can.”
She frowned right back. ”You can stop right there, Casey Hudson. I know a.s.sumptions run wild and believe me, I've heard every stupid joke there is, so don't bother. Ma.s.sage therapist is not a euphemism for call girl, you know. I'm not ashamed of what I do. In fact, I'm proud that I do it so well.”
This new facet to Emma's personality fascinated Casey. He liked the way she stood up to him, how she defended herself. And because he knew he had jumped to some hasty conclusions, he relaxed enough to tease. ”And here I was going to ask what you charge.”
Her nose lifted. ”Thirty-five an hour at my shop, fifty if it's a house or office call.”
Casey considered her, and then had to ask, ”I bet most of your clients are men, right?”
”What do you want to bet?”
Keeping the grin off his face wasn't easy. ”A kiss?”
”Doesn't matter because you lose. Most are women in their mid-forties, early fifties.”
”Really?” That relieved him, until she continued. ”But like I said, some are execs a male and female a with seventy-hour-a-week jobs. And some are athletes with sports injuries that still bother them.”
”Athletes?”
”I treated one of the Chicago Cubs for a while early in the season.”
New jealousy flared. ”What the h.e.l.l for?”
”He was in a slump and so every time he went to bat, he got tense.” She spoke candidly and knowledgeably, using her hands to emphasize. ”Ma.s.sage can help loosen contracted, shortened muscles and at the same time, stimulate flaccid muscles.”
Casey grunted at that. ”With you touching him, I find it hard to believe there was anything flaccid on the guy.” Sure as h.e.l.l wasn't anything flaccid on him, and he was just thinking about her touch, not experiencing it. But he would. Oh yeah, he most definitely would.
Rather than get angry, she got exasperated. ”Now you're just being nasty.”
”I want you,” he reiterated, as if it explained everything. And to his mind, it did.
Her mouth fell open. ”I can't believe how pushy you've gotten. You know, you're the only man ever to say such a thing to me.”
Casey examined her face, from her s.e.xy mouth and stubborn chin, up to her hair gently teased by the morning breeze. When he locked onto her dark bedroom eyes, she fidgeted in a way that had Casey's insides clenching. ”Sorry, Em, but no way in h.e.l.l can I believe that.”
She smirked. ”Hey, I've heard other, more crude come-ons. But not an outright statement like I want you.”
Never in his life had Casey sat with a woman and had such a discussion. In the normal way of things, if he wanted to get intimate, he made a move and she either reciprocated or not. He didn't spell out his intent and give her a chance to rebuff him. This was unique, exhilarating a and so was Emma. ”Well, I do. Want you, I mean. So why shouldn't I be honest about it?”
”Oh, by all means, be honest. Just know that it's not going anywhere.”
He didn't like hearing that, and he sure wouldn't accept it, so he changed the subject. ”When can I get a ma.s.sage?”
Her eyes widened. ”Never.”
”Why not?”
”Because...” She got fl.u.s.tered, and a blush rose all the way to her eyebrows. ”I just know you too well. I'd be uncomfortable.”
With his eyes holding hers, his body warm with memories, he said, ”You've touched me before, Em. Plenty of times, in fact.”
”That was a long time ago.”
”You don't like touching anymore?”
She groaned and covered her face. ”It's not that.” So she did like touching? Anyone, or him specifically? It made Casey nuts wondering what she'd done and who she'd been with...and how much she might have enjoyed it. ”Then what, Em?”
She dropped her hands. Her gaze landed first on his face, then dipped to his chest, shoulders. She looked away to the parking lot. ”I'll, um, give it some thought, okay? That's all I'll promise for now.”
”Yeah, you do that.” In the meantime, Casey knew d.a.m.n good and well that he'd think of little else.
CHAPTER FIVE.
THE IDEA OF GETTING her hands on Casey's bare flesh left Emma jittery. She'd given too many ma.s.sages to count, and she'd always been friendly, talkative, but detached. She could never be detached with Casey.
She decided it was past time to go. Standing, she slipped her feet back into her shoes and avoided his astute gaze. ”The coffee's gone and I've got a full day ahead. I should get on my way.”
Casey stood with her and to her extreme relief, he dropped the topic of a ma.s.sage. ”What's on the agenda?”