She was good—I had to give her credit for that. Smart and beautiful, with a body that I longed to unwrap piece by piece. “I could talk to our business development manager. He’s not here at the show, but I have a meeting with him scheduled next week, when I’ll be at our headquarters in Boston.”
“Excellent!” She flashed another smile and handed me her business card. “Do you think you might have time for a private chat?” She rested her hand on my arm.
God, I wanted her. With the booth as busy as it was, though, I couldn’t just leave everything and indulge my desires, as much as I wanted to. “I’m afraid things are pretty busy at the moment.”
“Maybe you can squeeze in a drink after the show closes.” She moved closer. “I’m flying back to the Bay area tonight, but I would really love an opportunity to get to know you better. All in the name of business, of course.”
“Of course. I’ll give you a call if I get the chance.” I watched her walk away, her hips swaying enticingly. Her ass, encased in her navy blue skirt, was so delectable that I wanted to run after her, grab it, and sink my teeth into it. I slipped her business card into the pouch that held my exhibitor badge and reluctantly turned away to face my next prospect.
By the time the show closed, I was exhausted. I thought about checking up on Melissa for a moment, but I still had a lot to do. I delegated a few tasks to the junior sales staff and made sure they had all the instructions they needed to supervise tearing down the booth. By the time I finished up the paperwork to ship everything back to Boston, I decided I just needed to go back to my room and relax for a while. Maybe I could arrange another business trip to see Melissa later in the month. After all, I did have a lot of key accounts in the Bay area.
In a way, I was almost glad for the change of pace. I didn’t have to socialize with anyone that night—no matter how hot they were—and I looked forward to just vegging out in front of the television and ordering room service. However, after I kicked off my heels and sat down on the king-sized hotel bed, my lower back and calf muscles were still sore. While I was flipping through the hotel brochure and trying to decide on room service, I spotted an ad at the end for massage therapy. The agency presented its offerings as “exclusively by women for women.” A massage was just what I needed. Dinner could wait.
I didn’t have to worry about the expense. My boss was generally understanding about allowing me some latitude when I traveled. I think it was her way of expressing her gratitude for all the business I’d brought to the company. After all, I’d won the North America sales award for three years in a row now.
I picked up my phone and called the number listed in the ad. A soft female voice answered.
“This is Tori Allen—I’m staying at the Hilton Bayfront. I’d like to request a massage, please.”
“Of course.” The woman’s voice was already having a soothing effect. “Would you like our standard or premium service?”
I didn’t hesitate. After all, it wasn’t my money. “Definitely the premium.”
“An excellent choice.” I heard the subdued clicking of a keyboard. “Your masseuse will be Nicole Davis, and she can be there in ten minutes.”
I gave her my room number, rattled off my payment information, and hung up. Ten minutes wasn’t long to wait. I decided to strip off my clothes and put on on a hotel bathrobe. The soft fabric felt wonderful against my skin. I slumped into the recliner and tuned in to my favorite Spotify playlist.
Before long, I heard a knock and a woman announcing herself as Nicole, from the agency I’d called. I jumped up and opened the door.
My eyes widened, and I sucked in a deep breath. The woman who greeted me was an absolutely gorgeous redhead. Sparkling, sea-green eyes highlighted her angelic face, and her full, luscious lips caught my attention immediately. My tiredness seemed to fade into the background as I was seized with a sudden desire to kiss them.
“Er…please come in.” I forced myself to focus.
She walked into the room, carrying a folded massage table and a small case, which she set down beside the bed. She was wearing an immaculate white tank top, allowing me a peek at her sumptuous breasts when she leaned forward. Her long, shapely legs were showcased to perfection by a pair of yoga pants that made me want to get down on me knees, pull her close, and bury my face between her thighs.
“Have you had a long day, Ms. Allen?” Her voice sent a thrill through my entire body, making my nipples buzz.
“Yes. I was attending a trade show at the convention center. I’m so glad it’s over. And please, call me Tori.”
She smiled again and began to set up the massage table. “As long as you call me Nicole.”
I watched as she opened the case and set it on the nightstand next to the bed. Now, it was her ass that caught my attention when she bent over, and I pressed my legs together trying to quell the heat building in my groin. Finally, she turned around.
My cheeks were flushed, and I hoped she hadn’t noticed my reaction. If she had, she gave no sign of it.
“You can get ready now,” she said, gesturing to the table. “I recommend removing your robe. I have towels, if you want to cover up for privacy. Many of our clients simply dispense with them, but it’s your choice.”
For some reason, I wasn’t the least embarrassed about
