Bodywork Read Online Free

Bodywork
Book: Bodywork Read Online Free
Author: Marie Harte
Tags: Contemporary Romance, Contemporary Erotic Romance, Erotic Romance, Marie Harte
Pages:
Go to
.
    H e leaned back in his chair and decided to forego his run tonight in lieu of therapy. No way he’d forego his chance at a massage for a hard r ace around Green Lake . Oddly enough, his mind drifted back to the clumsy woman from that morning.
    She’d knocked into him at Sofa’s, which sat directly across from the lake. And she’d worn shorts and a t ee -shirt, as if she’d planned on some exercise. He could still see the irritation in her whiskey brown eyes, could feel her soft curves that had jolted him as much as the hot coffee had.
    He grimly accepted that the accident had been more his fault than hers. She’d been walking calmly out of Sofa’s when he’d plowed into her like a freight train. He must have seemed like a total ass this morning.
    Now that he recalled the incident, he realized sh e’d been more than pretty. Her almond-shaped eyes had widened in outrage, and brown hair streaked with gold had blown across her arresting face in a blast of wind .
    He frowned, not liking that he recalled her so clearly. When his body reacted at the reminder of her full breasts against his chest , he knew he needed to get out. A hard-on at work was definitely a message he suffered from what Mac called, the all work no play syndrome . Definitely time to get laid again.
    God, he just hoped Mac didn’t mention the incident to George. Shane’s younger brother was a seventeen-year- old walking hormone. Shane loved and respected women. He believed in a serious relationship and felt that good sex was only good if you solidly cared about your partner. Which explained his celibacy for the past eight months, since his breakup.
    Mac and George pitied him because he refused to h ook up . From Mac he’d expect such nonsense, but from his younger brother, it made him feel old.
    Shane glanced at a photo on his desk, a picture of himself and bunch of buddies in camouflage utilities standing knee-deep in sand in Iraq . Back in the day, he’d train hard and play hard when the opportunity arose. But those days seemed like a lifetime ago. Back when he’d been younger and naïve about life and politics. And love.
    Not liking the maudlin turn of his thoughts, he took another look at his newest sketches for the Grace project. Good work deserve d a reward. Time to treat himself to some much deserved relaxation. Just imagining the hands of a skilled massage therapist rubbing away his aches and pains urged him to get up and go. He rechecked his penned appointment and nodded. He’d been scheduled with Denise. Good. He couldn’t picture getting naked under a sheet for some big guy named Bruno.
    * * *
    By six thirty, Shelby had finished with her last client of the day and waved as the kind woman departed. Arching her back, she tried to rub away som e of her own tension, knowing her night was far from over . She returned to the front desk to catch up on paperwork.
    Massage therapy helped rid the body of contaminants and generally relieved stress. Yet more times than not, Shelby found herself mired in bills and the business side of things rather than dealing with the healing nature of her profession.
    The phone rang, breaking into her thoughts. After taking the message, she frowned at the closed door of her massage room , wishing like hell the contractor would finish patching up the wall in Denise’s room . She checked the appointment book and noted Shane Collins scrawled in Denise’s barely legible handwriting. The appointment listed at six o’clock , so Denise more than likely had another half hour to go. Damn, she hated to interrupt the massage , but she knew Denise would need to act on the message right away.
    Shelby knocked quietly on the closed door and heard a low murmur from the room. Denise opened the door an inch and peered out.
    “ W hat’s up?”
    “I’m sorry , but I’ve got a message for you that’s urgen t.”
    “No problem.” Denise called over her shoulder, “Shane ? I’m sorry. I have to take this call, but I’ll
Go to

Readers choose