Page 17 of Black Light: Cured

Dillon’s ropes. Mr. Hottie, or should I say Master Aiden? Why else would he be here if he wasn’t my

first appointment? Glancing down at my watch, I frown as I note the time. Maybe it’s not him. My first

appointment isn’t for another twenty minutes.

As he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, my stomach flops about. And when his

lips twist up in that smirk of his, my heart begins to pound. If he is here for a massage, I have to treat

him like every other client. I can’t let any personal feelings or arousal get in the way.

“I know I’m early,” he says, breaking the fragile silence. “But I’m of the opinion that early is on

time, on time is late, and late is just unacceptable.”

Great. That seals it. He is in fact Master Aiden. And what’s worse, I’m sure he’s already judging

me for not being ready for him. I’m very conscientious about time and rarely take a client back late,

but I also rarely take them back early. I need this time to collect myself, to get the room how I want it,

to center and ground before touching these people.

But something tells me he won’t understand any of that. He keeps looking at his watch then back at

me, as if that will make me go faster. I still have so much to do, and him looming in the frame isn’t

helping me get it done.

Placing my hands on my hips, I tilt my head to the side and stare him down. “If you want me to

hurry up, you either need to help me or step out of the room so I can finish.”

His eyes widen in what I can assume is shock, and I’m pretty stunned as well. I didn’t mean for it

to come out that harshly, but now that it’s out there, I can’t take it back. There’s just something about

this man that disturbs my calm and puts me on edge. I’m never like this, and yet, with just one quirk of

his lips it’s like I’m back in high school trying to get the attention of the quarterback.

It didn’t work then, and it most certainly won’t work now. We’re both professional adults. If we

like each other, it will happen. I’m certainly not going to allow this surge of lust to cause me to be

anything less than my best. Shaking my head, I step forward and extend my hand. “I’m sorry. That

came across very rude. Let’s start over. I’m Lila, your massage therapist.”

His hands are warm as they engulf mine — one on the bottom and one on the top. “Master Aiden.

And the pleasure is all mine,” he says slowly, as if savoring every word as it comes out of his mouth.

It sends a shiver of arousal down my spine as my gut clenches in need.

“If you can just give me a few more minutes, I’ll get you in as soon as I can. Unless you want to

help me?”