Rapture (3 page)

I turned and floated into the locker room, oblivious to any other occupants. When I entered the marble tiled shower stall with teak floor to ceiling doors, I smiled as I saw the various handheld and conveniently placed shelves. It was obvious that a shower add-on was a sensual add-on indeed. I lathered and let the soothing water wash over me. I envisioned Hunter in here with me, holding the shower wand spraying me here and there, adjusting my foot rest on that shelf just there and my ass to perch on this shelf. Yes, I would definitely make an appointment for next Saturday. Probably. Maybe.

Monday, I picked up my cell phone to call for an appointment but hung up when a woman's voice answered. On Tuesday I was stuck in meetings all day till ten at night. No chance of calling that day. Lauren called on Wednesday to check in and ask if I had gone to Rapture yet. I lied and told her I hadn't. I couldn't say exactly why I lied, but the experience was too personal and erotic to share. Feeling guilty about the lie, I did not make another appointment. Wednesday night I pulled out my trusty vibrator, but Old Faithful was faithless that night. No orgasm, damn it.

Which is why Thursday morning I made a beeline to a stall in the ladies bathroom at work to make a surreptitious cell phone call. Snooty receptionist was back at her desk, for she answered and began her litany of questions. This time I was prepared and clued in as to Rapture's sensual expertise. I did not wait for her to get to the second question.

“I want a ten o'clock with Hunter,” I informed her.

“Hunter?” she repeated, surprise in her voice. “Do you mean Heidi or Henry?”

“No,” I insisted. “I mean Hunter. Is he available?”

There was a silence, then, “please hold for a moment,” and a much longer pause. A glance at my watch told me two minutes had passed. Any more and I'd have to hang up and get back to work. Luckily Hunter picked up the phone almost immediately after.

“Cat, I'm so glad you called. Of course I'm available for you Saturday morning. See you at ten?”

His deep voice flowed through the phone like the smoothest and richest of chocolates. God, I wanted to lick him up. “Ten o'cock—I mean
clock
,” I confirmed, burning with embarrassment and practically hung up on him.

Saturday morning, I rolled out of bed at seven and into the shower. A full application of makeup followed. Feeling a bit self-conscious, I picked through my closet searching for the perfect outfit that said “Saturday morning casual” along with “I am a sexy goddess.” I settled on brand-new skinny jeans with dainty ballet slippers and a cleavage-revealing but comfortable blouse.

My efforts were for naught since Hunter was not working the front desk today. I finally got to meet the snooty receptionist upon my arrival at Rapture. Turns out she was about five feet tall, brunette and curvy, as well as incredibly friendly in person. Ellen, as she was called, stared at me curiously and insisted on walking me back to the locker room despite my protestations that I could find it on my own. Apparently Hunter rarely took on new clients, so she wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Feeling inordinately pleased with myself for making it onto Hunter's exclusive client list, I decided to take a premassage dip in the hot tub. I lowered myself nude into the steamy water and lolled back against the side, eyes closed. I don't know how long I floated there when I was startled out of my reverie by hands lifting me at my waist. My eyes flew open and a shriek lodged itself in my throat but stopped when I saw it was Hunter.

“Hi.” He smiled. “I didn't mean to startle you, but you looked so sexy in the water, I couldn't resist.”

I tried not to swell with hubris at Hunter's words. He was a professional sensualist. All his clients probably heard those words, even the little old ladies. Ew, I dismissed that thought quickly and opted to play along with the sexy game Hunter started.

“You look good yourself,” I purred, admiring his bare chest. For professionalism, he still wore his boxer briefs in the water. Then I looked around.

“Are we alone here? Can't anyone walk in?”

“Well, yes,” Hunter admitted. “Do you mind?” he asked, as he planted me firmly on his lap and pressed my back against his chest. My thighs spread open across the outside of his thighs. I could feel his swollen cock pressing into the cleft of my backside.

Did I mind? No, I only minded stopping. Hunter reached around to my front and dipped his right hand into the water to play with my pussy. His fingers gently parted my lips and stroked up and down, stopping just before he reached my clit. His left hand fondled my breasts, circling, cupping and gently rolling my nipples between his fingers.

I shifted restlessly against him. “Are you teasing me?”

He pushed his erection firmly against me and circled an arm around me tighter. “No more than you're teasing me,” he whispered in my ear then swiped a tongue down my earlobe, ending at the base of my neck. “You came too quickly last time. Today we're going to draw it out, torture you for a bit.”

I let out a mixture of a moan and a mewling sound. Torture sounded, well…torturous. I wasn't sure I liked the sound of it.

“Please,” I begged. “Please, just…”

“Just what?” Hunter asked. “Do this?” and he unceremoniously shoved a finger deep into me and used his other hand to pluck my clitoris. I nearly shot out of the water and would have had he not anchored my thighs with his wrists. He continued in this vein, and when I began to tighten around him with the beginnings of an orgasm, he removed his hands completely from my vagina and began to rub my shoulders instead.

I bit my lip, near tears.

“Relax,” he teased. “I promise you'll get what's coming to you.”

I groaned, “That was not punny.”

He chuckled and continued to rub my shoulders which had picked up quite a few knots in the days of work since my last massage. I sat still and tolerated the massage but could not contain my anticipation of what lay ahead.

Finally he capitulated.

“Okay, Catherine, I can tell we're going to get nowhere with you until you come.”

Before I could respond, he removed me from his lap and stood up. While I was still floating in the water, seeking the side, he grasped me by the waist and turned me around to face the wall of the hot tub and placed my butt on the seat. Hunter stood with my back against his thighs and pulled my feet out of the water, resting my ankles on the ledge of the pool. I felt a bit awkward, until I felt the jet of water spurting out directly onto my clitoris. Then I shifted around till I found the perfect angle and used his muscular thighs as leverage to get closer to the jet.

His hands came down to massage my breasts and I lasted for about five seconds until my thigh muscles clenched and squeezed. Wave upon wave of bliss rode through me. He held me steadily in place till I cried out that I could not take it anymore. My head fell back in the water, drenching my hair. Hunter scooped me up under my armpits and hauled me to my feet.

“Don't drown,” he instructed me as he anchored me to him with one arm and reached for a towel with the other. I fluidly rubbed against him since we were pressed together from forehead to toes. My nipples pressed against the hard pads of his pectorals and my lower abdomen cradled his erection. Screw workplace rules. I could not let this day end without giving him some pleasure in return. My hands reached down to pull off his underwear, a tricky maneuver when they were so tight and wet. But I managed to get them down far enough to see his cock before he stopped me.

“Cat, no.” His hand grasped my wrist.

“Cat,
yes
.” And I wriggled out of his grasp and circled the shaft of his penis. Hunter's eyes closed and his chest heaved. His lips muttered what looked to be the words
this is wrong
. I ignored him and continued sliding my hand up and down, while my other hand struggled to pull his boxers off of him. After a moment, he sighed and reached down to assist me. Then he stepped out of the hot tub. I stared after him, bereft.

“Come on,” he urged, holding out a hand to help me out of the water. “This is too public. I can't be seen doing this in here.” Impressed by his ability to maintain professional mores in the throes of passion, I grasped his hand and climbed out of the water. Goose pimples dotted me until Hunter wrapped me in a warm, fluffy towel. He slung a towel around his waist, but could not disguise what tented his covering.

“Let's get out of here.” Holding hands, we walked quickly to one of the shower stalls. He dropped his towel and walked in to turn on the water. I remained behind to shut and lock the door. When I turned back to him, he stood under the spray of water with a smile of anticipation on his face. Smiling back, I dropped my own towel and stepped into the inviting shower.

His cock found its own way into my hand, and I soon found that being in a sensual massage parlor served as inspiration. I stroked, caressed and fondled his cock with a talent that bordered on professional. I loved feeling his slightly ridged, hot skin slide over his hard muscle as I circled him and repeatedly stroked. He thrust gently but insistently and soon my strokes were aided by silky wetness beading on the tip of his penis.

The whole time my hands were on him, he was a busy boy himself. Facing me, he lifted one of my thighs onto a ledge perfectly situated to allow access to my vagina. I continued pleasuring him with my hands, while his fingers explored me inside and out. Before long, the two of us were moaning and writhing under each other's ministrations. He gave a shudder and a shout as he came on my hand. I quickly followed him, crying his name as I hung on his shoulders to stop from collapsing on the shower floor. The rush of the shower drowned out any noise to others in the locker room. We stood in silence for a few moments allowing the water to wash over us.

Finally I smiled at him, kissed him on the cheek and turned back to my towel. A hand on my shoulder caused me to spin back toward him for a moment.

“Catherine,” he started, “I want to tell you…” He paused, looking conflicted about something, but then he smiled. “See you next Saturday?”

“We'll see.” I smiled back and escaped to my locker to dress. I had to hide what I was feeling. I couldn't possibly let him know I wanted us to dress and go for brunch or to a farmers market, all those things couples did. We were not a couple, no matter how hard I might wish it.

He gathered up his wet briefs, wrapped a towel around his waist and escaped before any other clients spotted him. He had an unreadable look on his face. Disappointment maybe? But he planted on a smile and pecked me on the cheek before leaving the locker room.

The following day, I received a text message from Hunter: Got your cell #. Am alone tonight at work. Come in at 8?-Hunter

I stared at my cell phone with excitement; Hunter must have looked up my number in the work records. Not totally ethical, but I was already craving his touch.
Were we entering a relationship?
Maybe tonight we would add conversation to the menu. I arrived at Rapture at 7:59 and was buzzed up by Hunter. He greeted me with a huge grin the moment I stepped off the elevator. I was not sure conversation would be on the menu tonight, but I planned on ordering up some sex. Honest-to-goodness intercourse; screw workplace rules.

“You know,” I greeted him suggestively, “I came all the way down here to meet a man I've never even kissed.”

Hunter quickly remedied that and pulled me against him and covered my lips with his. As talented as I thought his hands were, they took a close second to his lips. Firm yet soft, he nibbled gently on my lower lip before sliding his tongue in my mouth. I eagerly rubbed my tongue against his and we remained lip locked for the remainder of the ride to Rapture.

We raced through the hallway of the spa, tearing off clothing and leaving them where they landed. He kicked open the door to treatment room one and lifted me bodily onto the massage table.

I lay on my back as he leaned over me kissing me everywhere. Lips, cheeks, neck and breasts. My hands rubbed greedily over his body, lingering on his firm butt cheeks. I spread my legs to open my wet pussy for him. He hopped off the table long enough to grab a condom from a drawer.

“It's against the rules, but the owner's not stupid enough to think it doesn't happen, so he provides condoms.” He shrugged as he slid it on his rigid penis.

“Shut up about the business already,” I teased. “Get that sexy ass back here where you belong.” To emphasize my point, I slid my fingers along my own slit, pleasuring myself while Hunter watched. He enjoyed the show for a few moments before turning back to the cabinets and selecting a small, bullet-shaped vibrator. He approached me on the table and roughly pushed my hands away. Gently he touched the tip of my clit with the whirring vibrator. I let out a scream of ecstasy.

I accepted his torture for a few minutes before I could take it no longer.

“Please,” I begged. “I want you inside me.”

He stared at me and pulled my ass to the edge of the table and stepped between my spread thighs. Continuing to use the vibrator, he slid his cock into me halfway then stopped to let me adjust. A bead of sweat slid off his forehead onto me letting me know how difficult this was for him, how much he just wanted to pound into me.

I clenched my inner muscles around him, loosened then tilted my hips upward inviting him to slide all the way in. He adjusted his angle, dropped the vibrator and leaned over me. I opened my mouth for a deep kiss as I felt him slide impossibly deep into me, rubbing my clit against his lower belly. I rubbed rapturously against him. He continued thrusting and circling his cock deep inside me. In minutes we were both lost in waves of pleasure as an orgasm engulfed us. He smoothly pulled out and collapsed on me. I relished in his weight, loving the musky sweat that glued us together.

We lay together in silence for long moments before I had any words.

“Wow,” I breathed. “Just, wow.”

“Ditto,” he agreed. He pulled me to my feet and half carried me toward the locker room and awaiting hot tub. We floated in the steamy water for a while, kissing and talking.

I discovered we shared a taste in music and he hated sushi; an aberration for a New Yorker. We argued over a movie we'd both recently seen. I thought it was brilliant and Oscar worthy. He wanted his two hours and ten dollars back, but we did agree on the luminosity of the latest
New York Times
bestseller.

It had been a long time since I'd enjoyed a conversation this much with a person of the opposite sex. In my head, I made a mental note to send a thank you note to Lauren for her birthday gift; a big thank you note for a truly wonderful present.

Lauren called Friday night to invite me to a birthday cocktail party at a friend's house. She swore up and down that handsome, eligible men would be in attendance. In fact, she had the scoop on one member of the guest list, a hottie with an MBA and his own successful business. I agreed to attend since I was keeping Hunter as my secret. I didn't know what we had; was it personal or professional? It couldn't hurt to attend a party with eligible men.

Lauren was right. A myriad of good-looking men circled me at the party making interesting conversation. Unfortunately their lovely wives were in attendance as well. I glared daggers at Lauren who smiled apologetically over her cranberry martini. I gave her my best look that said ‘let's fake a family or medical emergency scene' to expedite a rapid escape. Her head bobbed once gently to signal her acknowledgment and agreement. I set the stage in motion by asking our host if there was a private room where I could make a phone call to check on my sick friend. He pointed me toward a bedroom when a large male body grabbed his pointing hand to shake it.

“Hunter!” the host boomed. “I wondered when you would make it. Were you caught at work? I know Saturday's your busiest day. Let me introduce you around.”

He turned toward where I stood, my mouth gaping open like an unattractive fish.

What was Hunter doing here?

Darren, the host, made the introduction. “Hunter, this is Catherine. Hunter and I were in the same MBA cohort.” Numbly, I raised my hand to shake Hunter's.
Hunter was the eligible MBA hottie? Hottie yes, eligible was debatable. Did his friends know what he did for a living?

Apparently yes, because Darren then informed me that Hunter now owned the top spa in the Northeast and was looking to open another location in The Village.

I froze in shock.
Had he totally used me for his own sexual games?
He probably had a good laugh with his buddies over the poor, naive divorcée who stumbled into his massage parlor and spread her legs for him.

Hunter took one look at me and wasted no time taking my hand, excusing us from Darren and leading me out to the balcony.

The balmy fall air surrounded me as I stood and looked out over the magnificent view of the Manhattan skyline. Hunter waited patiently allowing me silence, and then he broke it.

“Cat, I've been meaning to tell you, I own Rapture. I'm
not
a massage therapist. In fact, the last real massage I gave was in undergrad when I took a massage therapy class for an easy A.”

I maintained my silence for a few minutes as my feelings hopped between anger and confusion. He continued. “Rapture is my baby, a business I have worked tirelessly at to make it succeed. I would never jeopardize that just to scratch some itch. Pretending to be your massage therapist was a risk I took to get closer to you. When you walked in for your appointment, I was covering the desk for a sick receptionist. You looked so adorable and nervous. I wanted to talk with you more. Tony was supposed to be your therapist, and I…I don't know…” He raked a hand through his hair. “I just couldn't stand the thought of Tony's hands on you, so I ran back, and switched with him. I promise—no, I
swear
—I have never done that before.

Crack. My defensive armor hit the floor.

“But why the sensual massage? You could have just done a regular massage then asked me out after?” I asked. “Remember, I was clueless about the nature of your business.”

“It probably would have been the smarter thing to do,” he admitted. “I couldn't resist—you have one sexy ass. Plus, we
are
a sensual massage spa. I didn't want to risk an unhappy client.” He smiled at me mischievously, but then grew serious again and stepped closer to me.

“Catherine, I'm asking now. Go out with me. Please? You already know about my business, which is usually third date material.”

I smiled up at him, my decision made.

“Hunter, I don't care whether you're the owner or an employee. I would be delighted to date you. There is one caveat though: I want to continue to have massage appointments at Rapture.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but I covered his lips with a finger and continued. “However, I insist
all
my appointments be made with your amazing therapist, Hunter.”

I felt him smile against my finger. “It just so happens he has availability right now if you're free.”

I leaned back and grinned at him. “It just so happens, I have an opening that he would fit perfectly in right now. Let's get out of here.”

He groaned at my bad pun but seemed as desperate to escape as I was. With tightly clasped hands, we reentered the party, pausing only long enough for me to make eye contact with Lauren.

I'm leaving now with this hot guy! Eeeeeh! I promise I will spill all tomorrow
, I willed in my telepathic message to Lauren.

She got the message and gave me a discreet thumbs-up. I felt a twinge of regret at abandoning her at the party. But then Hunter smiled down at me and squeezed my hand. Any hesitation flew out the window at his look promising unadulterated rapture.

Tonight was for us.