True Abandon

by Jeannine Colette

  “Get out of here,” I hiss at him, covering myself with my hands.

  His shoulders relax as a huge smile crosses his face. Those damn dimples make an appearance. “Are you naked?”

  I grab a bottle of lotion from the table behind me and throw it at him. He ducks out of the way with a laugh.

  Putting his hands up in the air, he does a quick about face. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were standing in your birthday suit. By all means, take your time. I won’t peek.”

  “You won’t be peeking because you won’t be in here.” I grab the robe off the bed and bring it down to my level in a poor attempt to put it back on my body. He looks over his shoulder, but I shoo him to turn back around. “Leave.”

  “Why would I leave? I’m getting a massage.”

  “In your own room.” I pull the fabric tighter around my body.

  “Uh no, Trish. I’m in here, too.”

  I look at the back of Jax’s head and the white robe he’s wearing on his body, down to the other bed in the room next to mine. When realization strikes, I can hardly believe it, I rise to my feet. “You booked us a couple’s massage?”

  He turns around. “What did you think we were doing?”

  I spin the front of my body toward the wall putting my back to him. “I’m not wearing any panties!”

  He chuckles. “Me neither. Do you really call them panties?”

  “What’s wrong with the word panties?”

  “Nothing. It’s cute.”

  I huff and tap my slipper clad foot on the ground. “We’re not a couple, Jax. Couples have couple’s massages. Not,” I try to think of the right word. Instead, I just come up with, “us.”

  I fix my robe, adjusting it, so it’s on my shoulders properly and secured tightly with a belt.

  I turn around and scold him, “You’re breaking rule number one. Do not do anything that could cause me to lose my job.”

  “Getting a massage in the presence of two masseurs is not going to get you fired. Besides, I cleared it with your boss.”

  I squint my eyes at him. “You spoke to Rafael?” That man is making all kinds of bad decisions today.

  “Don’t get your panties, or in this case, your lack of panties in a bunch. He doesn’t know we have history.” He uses air quotes around the word history.

  He steps away from the door and walks toward me. “I have my own set of rules.”

  “You don’t get rules. You’re not even supposed to be here.”

  “Six nights,” he holds up his hand to visually show me the number. “I’m here for six more nights. If you want, I can stay longer.”

  “The suite is booked. You couldn’t stay here even if you wanted to,” I raise my chin and state defiantly.

  “I’ll just take another room. I can stay here indefinitely.”

  “With what money? You’re a has-been musician.”

  “I’m a Davis,” he says the term not with a sense of pride, but as if he’s been incarcerated by the title. Still, I know what he means.

  Not only is he the son of Senator Davis, but he is also the heir to the Davis Family fortune, passed down from generation to generation from growing and then investing in tobacco since the early nineteen-hundreds. Cigarettes may be a taboo subject for many, but for the Davis clan, they relish in the cash it has brought their family for a hundred years. Which means, Jax has cash. And a lot of it.

  “Here are my terms.” He waits for me to stop fidgeting with my belt and look him in the eyes.

  I give him a sarcastic expression to carry-on with whatever it is he plans to say.

  “You make the itinerary, but we do everything together. What I do, you do. What you do, I do.”

  “Guess I’ll cancel the lava walk. What else do you want?”

  “Actually, that’s it. I just want to spend time with you. Six nights and then I’m out of your life forever. I promise.”

  I weigh my options. If he were anyone else, I would call his bluff. But knowing Jax, with his lack of a job, disposable income, and complete ability to follow through with any dare he sets for himself, I know if I don’t go along, he’ll just park his ass in a room on the third floor until I’m forced to leave the island.

  Besides, I could definitely use this to my advantage.

  “Deal. Now turn around so I can strip.”

  His brow is arched, perhaps intrigued by my quick agreement. His tongue darts out and skims his lower lip as he concentrates on my face. He may be wondering what I have up my sleeve, but he just made his own deal with the devil. Too late to change his mind.

  With a slight nod of his head, he turns around and faces the door. As soon as he does, I jump on the bed and pull the sheet over me. I shimmy out of my robe while under the sheet and toss it on the floor beside me and then roll over on my stomach to let Jax know it’s safe for him to turn around.

  He doesn’t. Instead, he drops his robe, revealing his bare ass. It’s hard and round, perfectly sculpted with two indents on the side. I’m so enraptured by it, I almost miss the large set of dragon wings splayed across his back. The wingspan stretches from shoulder to shoulder, vigorously robust. I’m about ten feet away, but I can make out the details of them precisely. They’re meticulously crafted with each scale defined down to the fine hair that stretches off the tip of the highest feather.

  No sooner does he start to turn around than I bury my head into the soft bed. I can hear his light chuckle as he climbs onto his bed and shifts to get comfortable.

  The door opens, and my masseur walks in accompanied by a female. Her name is Shannon. I know her from hanging out at Duke’s. She’s from the mainland, Seattle, Washington, I think. She has long, brown hair and a curvy little figure. Her eyes have this incredible doe-like expression that showcases her gorgeous, baby blues. I’ve heard the guys talk about how sweet she is.

  Shannon walks to Jax’s bed and starts adjusting his sheet. Her hands are close to his ass which is peeking out the top.

  I clear my throat. “Hi, Shannon,” I give her a little wave from beneath the sheet.

  She returns the gesture with a warm smile. “Hey there. Heard you were getting a massage, today. Good for you.”

  “Thanks,” I say and pull the thread on the towel that’s at the edge of my bed. “If it’s okay, I’d prefer you work on me today.”

  She doesn’t hesitate at the request. “Absolutely. Fernando and I can certainly switch roles.”

  Jax lifts his head from the bed and gives me a questioning look. “If you’re doing this because you think I have a problem with a guy touching me, you’re mistaken.”

  I ignore his comment and watch as Shannon and Francisco switch spots in the room. As soon as Shannon comes into Jax’s view, he smiles and shakes his head. “Never mind. I get it now.”

  “Get what?” I ask.

  He buries his head in the little cushion, looks down and stretches his arms out to get nice and cozy for his massage. “Get in there nice and deep, ‘Nando. My girl here is rough on me. I need these muscles worked out.”

  Fernando gives a little laugh. “Will do, sir.”

  I raise my head and say in a convincing tone, “I’m not his girlfriend.” Shannon pushes me down in an attempt to get me comfortable on the bed. I look at her as my face closes in on the pillow. “I’m not his girlfriend.”

  She moves my braid to the side and runs a finger over the chain of my necklace. “Would you like to take this off?”

  I freeze, the necklace forgotten until this very moment. I don’t want Jax to see it and get the wrong idea.

  “Keep it on,” I practically yell. She doesn’t say a word as she slathers warm oil onto my skin.

  As soon as Shannon’s hands are on me, I stop protesting and settle into my earlier state of Zen. Shannon’s fingers are like little magic massage fairies that push into my skin and work the muscles in deep circles, pulling out every bit of tension from my shoulder blades. I let out a soft moan as she works the scented oils into my back. I suddenly couldn’t
care less that I’m not alone in the room—this is heaven.

  She’s working up and down my spine, applying pressure to the vertebrae, an act that causes me to nearly fall asleep when I hear a deep, husky moan.

  “Oh, yeah.” Jax breathes heavily.

  I try to ignore the sound I just heard and go back to my own mental trance. Shannon’s hands are now on my tailbone, the space just above my butt is getting the kinks worked out.

  “Mmm,” Jax hums from deep in his chest, vibrating like the purr of an engine—the sound causes my own chest to reverberate.

  I take a deep breath and try to ignore him.

  “Fuck, yes.” His words are said long and slowly in a sensuous manner. “Deeper, right there,” he drawls. “There is nothing like the feeling of someone else’s hands on your body.”

  I give a little shiver as Shannon’s hands work up to my neck and back down my shoulders at the same time Jax growls, rumbling in a baritone that echoes in the small space. Over and over, he chants. Sounds of pleasure echoing from his side of the room in a tantric hum.

  A chill runs down my spine and shoots straight to my core. I clench my thighs together to stifle the feeling, hoping Shannon doesn’t notice the sudden twitch of my body.

  He gasps and pants as every muscle is tweaked to the point of utter relaxation, and apparently, ultimate pleasure. I don’t know if he’s putting on a show or really experiencing some sort of sexual revelation, but the dark, visceral moans emanating from him are rousing my excitement—and not in a way I want to be.

  Faster, the moans strengthen.

  Louder, they pulsate on as Jax continues to be touched.

  While he’s getting the massage of his life, I can feel my own body tensing. My heart races and the hair on my arms tingles.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to mentally block him out.

  “Enough,” I shout as I lean up and look over at him.

  Jax raises his head; his face in a dazed state.

  “You’re getting a freaking massage, not having an orgasm!”

  Jax lifts a sleepy looking brow at me. “What’s the matter? You want Fernando back?”

  My blood races to my face. I swear I can feel the steam rising out my ears. “Gah!” I cry out as I put my head back down.

  Shannon places two hands on my shoulders and leans in close to my ear. “If the man does this to you with his voice, I can’t imagine what he’d do to you in bed.”

  I lift my legs up and slam them down, hard. He better have fun now because what I have planned for him next is going to be the exact opposite of what he’s currently feeling.

  We finish the rest of our massage in relative silence. Every once in a while, a moan escapes Jax’s throat, but it’s followed by a laugh and Shannon’s continuing reminders for me to relax. At one point, I think Jax actually falls asleep which is a Godsend.

  At the end, Fernando and Shannon leave the room. I wait for Jax to get his robe on and walk out the door before I even move. Once I’m completely covered, I walk out into the hall where Jax waits for me.

  “Relaxed?” he asks. He has a crease on the side of his face, confirming he did, in fact, fall asleep. If it were anyone else, I’d say it was adorable.

  “I could have done without the theatrics,” I bellow as Shannon appears to escort us down the hallway.

  “That was an honest-to-God reaction to the massage. You really missed out by switching masseurs. That man’s hands are like a machine—a giant, hot stone machine. I was nervous my leg would hurt, but he managed to work around the wound.” He pauses briefly to look in the direction of where we’re walking. “Where are we going?”

  Continuing our walk, I respond, “To our next appointment.”

  Jax thumbs back toward where the locker rooms are. “I didn’t make another appointment.”

  “You didn’t, but I did.” I smile. It’s big and luminous. “Before I knew we were having couple’s day, I tacked on a wax for myself.”

  His pierced brow is raised. “Why are you smiling like that? I mean, I like your smile. It’s one of your greatest features. It’s just the first time you’ve smiled since I’ve been here. It’s kind of freaking me out.”

  Swaying from side to side I sing, “What I do, you do. And what you do, I do.”

  His brow falls, as does the sides of his mouth. “I’m not waxing.”

  “Fine. Then the deal’s—“

  “My legs. I draw the line at my legs,” he states with a serious expression.

  I stammer back. “Are you sure? So whatever it is I have booked to wax, you’re game?”

  He leans in and annunciates with a punch, “Positive.”

  The way he says it, so totally sure, with his clean-shaven jaw squared and unwavering, makes me uneasy.

  Shannon opens the door so I gesture to Jax. “After you.”

  “Ladies first.” He holds the door open for me.

  I follow Shannon inside where an esthetician is standing beside the bed. “Welcome, I’m Giovanna.” She sees Jax and says, “I’m sorry, we don’t allow visitors into appointments.”

  I pull Jax’s arm and yank him toward me. “He’s a first timer and was looking for moral support.”

  “So this is two appointments?” she asks.

  I nod my head enthusiastically.

  “Two bikini waxes?” She gives Jax a lowered-eye, questioning look.

  He groans, uneasy. “Unless you don’t have time.”

  She looks up at the clock. “I have time. Who’s first?”

  I push Jax forward. “He is.”

  With his shoulders slumped, and chin turned down, he steps up to the table. I walk behind him, but he hisses, “You can wait outside.”

  “I thought we had to do everything together?”

  “I’d prefer a little privacy while I get my balls get ripped off.”

  The imagery in my head is enough to make me cringe. With no need to argue, I turn around and head out the door and into the hallway. Shannon is quickly behind me.

  “Do I even want to know?” she asks as soon as we’re outside.

  I tuck my hands in my pockets and give her a nonchalant shrug. “Lonely guest who wants company.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She doesn’t look like she believes me, but she goes along with it. “I’m gonna go now.”

  “You do that. See you at Duke’s.” I smile and wave.

  As soon as Shannon is around the corner and out of sight, I lean against the door with my ear flush against the oak, listening to what’s happening on the other side. It’s quiet, and I wonder if he’s backing out of the treatment. I hear some muffled voices and then silence again. I bite my thumbnail as I try to concentrate on what is happening inside.

  “Hey, Trish.” I jump at the sound of Lani’s voice. I grab my chest and turn to her. “What are you doing?” she asks.

  I open my mouth to answer, then close it and open again. With a hand, I wave at her accusingly. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on desk all day?”

  She looks to the door and back to me. “I’m here to deliver a key to a guest. What’s going on in there?” She looks down at my attire. “Why are you wearing a robe?”

  With my shoulders back, I muster my dignity and answer, “I just had a massage.”

  She does a little jump and claps her hands in excitement. “Good for you. Was it amazing?”

  A yelp sounds from behind the door. A loud man-yelp that is probably coinciding with the occurrence of hot wax being ripped off a scrotum.

  “It was great.” I turn Lani’s attention back to me. “Totally relaxed. And the oils—”

  “Oh, for the love of—”

  I’m interrupted by another loud yell from the other side of the door. I clear my throat. “You should definitely have a massage here.” I nod—a lot. My eyes are wide and focused right on Lani’s midnight-black ones.

  “Isn’t this a waxing room?” Her meticulously threaded brow is curved in. “Why are you listening to someone get a w
ax?”

  “I’m not listening.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Jax barks.

  “Who’s in there?”

  I shush her. “The Pele suite guest.”

  “The hot, tattoo guy?” she leans toward the door just in time to hear a series of expletives.

  I dance from one foot to the other. “Um. He requested a wax so I thought I’d stop by to make sure he’s okay.”

  For some reason, she stands with me and listens to the noises coming from the other side. We make cringing faces with each groan.

  Her face twists in a look of disgust mixed with intrigue. “What is he having waxed?”

  “His…” I pretend to juggle something imaginary in my hands. “You know.”

  She puts a hand over her mouth and gasps. “That’s hot. I’ve never been with a guy who manscapes. I bet it makes it looks bigger.”

  “Lani!” I hit her in the arm.

  “Imagine what it’s like without having to navigate the Amazon jungle.”

  I mock gag. “What kind of guys are you sleeping with?”

  “Not one who waxes.” She presses her ear up to the door. “I think they’re done.”

  “Already?” No sooner are the words out of my mouth than the door opens.

  Lani and I jump back and try to look as casual as possible. She holds her hands up to inspect a manicure while I whistle and look up at the ceiling.

  Jax jolts slightly at the sight of us, then settles his eyes on mine. It may be my imagination, but he looks taller—more imposing and intimidating than he was before. For some reason, it makes me rise to my tip toes.

  “This is Lani. She works here,” I blurt out.

  Lani drops her hand and stands at attention like she was called by her drill sergeant.

  “There’s a luau tonight,” she adds, clearly looking for something, anything to say. I kick her in the ankle. “But you probably won’t want to go. Because, you know, your balls.”

  With his eyes still on mine, Jax clenches his jaw and nods his head. “I’ll be there.”

  Without another word, he heads down the hall. Away from me. Away from Lani. And with a slight limp.

  “You may want to send a bucket of ice up to his room,” Lani suggests.