Serenity (Inevitable Book 5)

by Janet Nissenson

  Matthew gave a little snort of derision. “That’s probably the farthest thing from my mind these days, what with all the pressures at work and trying to fit in enough time to see my kids. Not to mention the twice weekly phone calls from my divorce attorney updating me on the progress with the proceedings. And before you ask, the progress has pretty much come to a grinding halt. Lindsey refuses to even consider looking at the divorce papers unless I change the terms. Her latest demand is that she still gets half of everything, plus receive a very sizeable monthly payment for the next twenty years. I told my attorney I wasn’t quite that desperate yet.”

  “Good. You’re being far more than generous with your offer, Matthew. I just can’t imagine someone being offered such a staggering sum of money and still wanting more.” Ian shook his head in disbelief. “Is Lindsey doing this out of greed or spite?”

  “Probably both,” replied Matthew. “My attorney wants me to use all the reports the private investigator compiled about her infidelities as leverage. But that would be hard to keep quiet, and I don’t want the kids to know. Though there may come a time when I don’t have a choice any longer.”

  The topic was swiftly dropped as Tessa returned to the table, and handed Matthew a business card printed in sage green and tan. It bore the name, address, and telephone number of a yoga studio here in San Francisco, along with Sasha Fonseca/LMT.

  “She works out of the yoga studio?” inquired Matthew as he tucked the card inside his wallet.

  Tessa nodded. “Most of the time. She sees some clients at their home, like me and Ian, but that’s only because we have a massage table and the other supplies she needs here. She doesn’t own a car, and it’s a little tough to cart a folding table around on the bus. But the studio has several massage rooms, and I’ve had sessions with Sasha there before. Be warned, though. It might take you a couple of weeks or longer before you can snag an appointment with her. She’s very in demand. In fact, maybe I should call her for you and set something up. Her evening class should be ending soon, so I can try calling her in a few minutes.”

  “If you don’t mind, that would be awesome,” Matthew told her gratefully. “The more I think about it, the more the idea of a massage sounds miraculous. With each passing minute, it feels like another muscle or joint is aching.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” assured Tessa. “I just hope she has her phone turned on. She, ah, isn’t very big on technology, which is why I never text or email her. In fact, I’m not even sure she has an email account.”

  Matthew, who was considered one of the modern day kings of technology, was more than a little appalled at that revelation. But he was greatly relieved a few minutes later when Tessa was able to reach Sasha on her cell phone, and set up an appointment for Matthew the following afternoon.

  “She’s basically fitting you in between other appointments,” explained Tessa. “As something of a favor to me. So you’d better give her a really big tip!” she added teasingly.

  Matthew chuckled. “No worries there. And if she’s as good as you and Ian insist she is, it will probably be the biggest tip she’s ever received before. I can barely move my neck at all right now. Thank you, Tessa, I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. I think – well, you’ll figure it out for yourself pretty quickly, but Sasha is a very special person. She’s not just a great massage therapist, but she has a very calming, grounding presence about her as well. I think she could be very good for you in more ways than one, Matthew,” commented Tessa. “She’s helped me through some difficult times, and maybe she can do the same for you.”

  Matthew regarded her quizzically. “How so exactly?”

  But Tessa merely gave him a mysterious little smile before replying, “You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

  “Have I told you yet today that you’re really the perfect husband? I mean, not only are you gorgeous and sexy and really, really amazing in bed, but you help with the dishes, too. What else could a girl ask for?”

  Ian laughed at his wife’s teasing inquiry, and bent to kiss her cheek. “The least I could do, darling, considering how much effort you put into cooking such a wonderful dinner this evening. And I know Matthew appreciated it very much – especially the plates of leftovers you sent him home with.”

  Tessa smiled as she placed the last glass in the dishwasher, popped a detergent pod inside the appliance, and started the wash cycle. “I’m sure it must be tough on him getting takeout almost every night,” she sympathized. “And he’s admittedly not much of a cook. Besides, I doubt he’d have time to cook given all of the demands on his time. Don’t you think the CEO of a company would be able to delegate a little more of his work?”

  Ian shook his head. “Matthew is something of a control freak from what I’ve observed. And since he’s still deeply involved in the design and development process of the software programs his company produces, it’s not always possible for him to delegate certain aspects of the job. He’s a genius, you know. Literally. His IQ is someplace in the stratosphere. So it’s doubtful that too many people would be able to do some of the things he does.”

  “Well, I’m just glad he was able to join us for dinner tonight,” declared Tessa. “We’ll have to make it a point to have him over more often. And I’m so pleased that Sasha was able to fit him in for a massage tomorrow. I think she’ll do him a world of good.”

  Ian looked at his wife quizzically as they began to make their way upstairs to their bedroom. “You are just referring to the massage, aren’t you? Tessa, please tell me that you aren’t trying to do a bit of matchmaking here.”

  She gave a careless little shrug. “That certainly wasn’t my intent, no. But the more I think about it the more I like the idea. Strange as it may sound, I think Sasha might be exactly what Matthew needs in his life right now.”

  “They’re absolutely nothing alike,” pointed out Ian as he began to undress. “Matthew’s the CEO of a multi-billion dollar corporation, lives in a penthouse, wears eight thousand dollar suits, and drives a top of the line Tesla – which is just one of the cars he owns. Sasha teaches yoga and does massage for a living, rents a single room in someone else’s house, take the bus or walks everywhere, and the only time I’ve seen her wear anything but yoga clothes was at our wedding.”

  Tessa tapped him on the nose with her index finger. “Snob,” she taunted teasingly, just before presenting him with her back so he could lower the zipper of her dress.

  Ian chuckled, even as he sucked in a breath at the sight of her semi-nude body. He wasn’t certain he’d ever stop feeling like an adolescent schoolboy in the presence of his young, sexy wife, and especially not when she was almost naked, clad in just a lacy bra and thong set of pale pink lace.

  “It has nothing to do with the differences in their financial status,” he clarified, even as he hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his bare chest. “In spite of his wealth, Matthew is a very down-to-earth person, and not in the least bit snobbish. It’s more a case of he and Sasha having different interests, and very different lifestyles. He’s probably the most tech savvy person I’ve ever known, while I believe you’ve told me that Sasha doesn’t even own a computer. And try as I might, I simply can’t envision Matthew attempting a yoga class. Or meditating.”

  Tessa shrugged, running her hands up and down her husband’s heavily muscled arms, her lips hovering around the hollow at the base of his throat. “Hmm. But maybe both of those things – yoga and meditation – are exactly what he needs right now to help relieve his stress. And you’re right – the two of them are very different from each other. But you know the saying – opposites attract. It will be interesting to see if anything, ah, develops after his appointment tomorrow. And before you say anything, Ian, I am not trying to matchmake. Just trying to help out a friend in need is all.”

  “Speaking of needs,” he whispered wickedly in her ear. He grabbed hold of her hand and brought it to his crotch, wher
e his cock was already hard and fully erect. “As you can tell, love, I’m very, very needy for you this evening.”

  “I can tell,” she purred, her slender hand stroking him up and down with slow, deliberate movements, the way she knew all too well drove him crazy with lust. But when her hand slid further back to gently squeeze his swollen testicles, he clamped his fingers around her wrist, stilling her movements.

  “I’ll come in your hand in about ten seconds if you keep doing that,” panted Ian. “And I would much rather come inside of you.’

  Tessa squealed in surprise as he swooped her into his arms, tossed her on their enormous king-sized bed, pulled off her barely there thong, and then thrust fully inside of her – all within a matter of seconds. As controlled and disciplined as Ian was about most aspects of his life – including their lovemaking – he could just as easily turn into a wild man in the bedroom with very little encouragement. This, evidently, was going to be one of those times.

  “Sasha will be right with you, Matthew. Are you sure I can’t offer you some water or tea?”

  Matthew smiled at the perky front desk clerk. “No, thank you. And here’s the form you asked me to fill out. I don’t think I missed anything.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  He handed the clipboard and pen, along with the client information form and waiver he’d just completed, across the counter to the young girl who’d introduced herself as Willow upon his arrival. She was nearly as thin as the tree she shared a name with, almost waifishly so, with shoulder length black hair that had been dyed purple at the tips. Like everyone else he’d seen walk through the yoga studio since his arrival five minutes ago, Willow was casually dressed in cropped yoga pants, a floaty tunic, and flip flops. Matthew silently cursed himself for not having taken the time to change clothes before leaving the office, since his Dior suit, Brooks Brothers tie, and Prada oxfords were very sadly out of place here.

  Truth be told, he’d never felt entirely comfortable wearing a suit and tie, or any other sort of expensive designer clothing. He missed the early days of his career, when he could get away with wearing jeans and a T-shirt to the office and no one would blink an eye. And even on the casual Fridays he’d insisted on implementing at MBI, he hesitated at presenting too casual of an image and usually wore pressed khakis and an open-necked shirt.

  Unlike the handful of men he’d seen in the studio since walking through the front door. They had all been wearing loose fitting shorts or nylon track pants, T-shirts or tanks, and either sandals, sneakers, or no shoes at all. Self-consciously, he undid the top two buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie, wondering if he should just dispense with the latter altogether and stuff it in his pocket. He –

  “Matthew. It’s a pleasure to see you again. Even if you’re several months later than expected.”

  He glanced up at the sound of that soft, melodious voice, his gaze colliding with those mysterious green-gold eyes that had reminded him of a lioness’s the first time they had met. Sasha was smiling at him with that particular air of serenity that seemed to envelop her like a cloud, and he stared at her for long seconds as though awestruck. And while her attire of slim fitting dark gray yoga pants and a midnight blue tank top was at the very opposite end of the scale from the formal bridesmaid’s gown she’d been wearing at Tessa and Ian’s wedding, Matthew thought vaguely that he preferred her this way. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who seemed as comfortable in their own skin as Sasha did, and he knew without being told that she wasn’t a woman who fussed over her appearance.

  She also, he noted with an unexpected surge of lust, had a rather amazing figure – slender and graceful, with leanly muscled arms and legs, and narrow hips and shoulders. Her breasts were on the small side but looked firm and nicely shaped, and their size was in perfect balance with the rest of her body. She looked like a dancer, and he could still visualize the impromptu little ballroom dance performance she and her date had given at the Gregsons’ joint bachelor/bachelorette party. Her bare feet were as slim and dainty as the rest of her body, the toenails unpolished.

  As she continued to gaze at him expectantly, Matthew rather clumsily reached out a hand in her direction. “It’s - it’s good to see you, Sasha,” he replied, his voice cracking just a little. “And I’m, uh, sorry for not making an appointment until now. Life has been - well, let’s call it complicated as of late.”

  She shook her head, causing that untamable mane of corkscrew curls to bounce endearingly. At the same time she clasped his hand in her much smaller one, giving his a reassuring little squeeze. “No need to apologize,” she replied softly. “And I hope that your being here will help make things a little less complicated for you. Come, follow me.”

  During the brief walk down a short hallway that had several rooms on each side, Matthew tried like hell not to let his lecherous gaze drift past the graceful curve of Sasha’s spine. But it was damned near impossible to ignore the way those form fitting yoga pants cupped the firm curves of her ass, and he was able to sneak in a quick, furtive peek before she stopped in front of one of the doors.

  “Here we are,” she announced as she opened the door and ushered him inside. If she’d been aware of his hot gaze on her butt, she was evidently too discreet to make mention of it. Matthew just guessed that he was far from the first male yoga student or massage client to take note of the fact, however.

  The room Sasha had brought him to was small but had obviously been decorated with comfort and calm in mind. The walls were painted a soothing shade of blue-gray, and a soft area rug covered the wood floor. The lighting was muted, and there was a minimum of furniture in the room, with the massage table taking up most of the space. An aromatherapy diffuser was emitting a subtle scent of peppermint oil, and New Age music was being piped discreetly through small, wall-mounted speakers.

  “You can leave your things on the chair in the corner,” Sasha told him as he finished his brief inspection of the room. “Or hang them on one of the hooks.”

  “My things?” he quizzed, turning to face her.

  She smiled before replying calmly, “Your clothes. All of them. And, yes, before you ask, that includes your underwear.”

  Unwittingly, he felt his cheeks grow hot and was grateful for the dim lightning of the room. “Oh. Um, yeah, sure. What – whatever you prefer.”

  Sasha’s smiled deepened but her voice was reassuring. “Don’t worry, you’ll be covered the entire time with a sheet. Plus, I can assure you that you don’t have any body parts I haven’t seen many times before. I’ll give you a few minutes to undress and get under the covers. Face down to start, please. I’ll knock before I entering.”

  The door clicked shut quietly as she left, and Matthew quickly began to disrobe. He hung his suit jacket on a wall hook, but took less care with his shirt, tie, and trousers, draping them casually over the chair. After removing his shoes and socks, he stood in the middle of the small room wearing just his dark blue briefs, wondering vaguely if he really needed to take everything off. After all, he reasoned, it was mostly just his neck and shoulders and upper back muscles that needed attention, so why did he have to take off his Calvins?

  But he didn’t want to displease Sasha by going against her wishes, so he quickly shucked the cotton underwear and shoved it under the other clothes on the chair. He had just stretched out on the massage table and pulled the top sheet up to cover his bare ass before a soft knock sounded on the door.

  “Uh, yeah. Come in.”

  Sasha’s bare feet didn’t make a sound as she entered the room, only the slight click of the door behind her signaling her arrival. Wordlessly, she pulled the butter soft cotton sheet and lightweight blanket all the way up to his neck. Beneath the bottom sheet was some sort of heated pad that felt so fantastic against his bare skin it made him want to close his eyes and take a really long nap.

  But it was the first touch of Sasha’s long, elegant fingers on the back of his neck that caused him to actual
ly groan out loud, the sound escaping his throat involuntarily.

  “My God, that feels good,” he sighed, his voice muffled by the fabric covering the face rest.

  She chuckled softly as her hands began to knead a little more forcefully along his shoulder blades. “I barely touched you,” she pointed out. “But I can already tell that we’ve got a lot of work to do here. Your muscles are about as tense as I’ve ever felt. I’m afraid it’s going to take several sessions before you feel any significant improvement. How long has it been since your last massage?”

  Matthew gave a little shrug, closing his eyes in half-bliss, half-pain as she began to dig a little more deeply into his knotted muscles. “Months. Maybe closer to a year. I’m not good at taking care of myself, unfortunately. I get pretty wrapped up in my job, work really long hours, travel a lot. And then, well, I assume Tessa has told you about my family situation. My wife and I are, uh, in the process of getting a divorce.”

  Sasha’s hands stilled momentarily, and she didn’t offer up a reply for several seconds. “She didn’t tell me, no. Knowing Tessa as well as I do, I assume she withheld that information because she respects your privacy. When she called me last evening to book this appointment, she simply said that you’ve had a great deal of stress to cope with lately and really needed a massage.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like Tessa. She’s a great girl. Ian is just about the luckiest man in San Francisco to have a wife like her,” murmured Matthew.

  “They’re both lovely people,” agreed Sasha. “Tessa in particular is very nurturing, very caring. I’m grateful to have her as a friend.”

  He grunted as she located a particularly tight spot, but then let out another sigh of relief as she began to work out the knot. “Jesus, you really do have a knack for finding all the sore spots, don’t you?” he asked half-jokingly. “Ian has been singing your praises to me, but I admit to being skeptical when I walked in here. But you do, uh, have magic fingers.”