Chapter 8 The Thrill Of The Chase

• "Do you ever get tired of being everyone's dirty little secret?" Ethan's voice cut through the soft hum of my studio as I lit candles, setting the mood for my next appointment. I turned over my shoulder, capturing the amused glint in his eyes as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.
• I smiled in a sarcastic manner to myself, fidgeting with the sheets on the massage table. "Dirty secrets pay well, Ethan. Besides, it's not like you're one to talk."
• "Touché," he said with a chuckle, entering the room. He was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his eyes followed my every move. "So, who's the lucky bastard today?
• "Not a bastard this time," I said, catching his look of surprise. "It's Lena-our first female client."
• His eyebrows shot up, and I could almost see the gears turning in his head. "You sure you can handle that?
• I rolled my eyes, but the flip in my tummy was another matter entirely. Lena was virgin territory-a spa regular from the exclusive resort spa where I freelanced, and she'd booked a private session with me after whispers of my 'particular' services hit the grapevine. Ethan and I had been through quite a number of barriers, but this was new ground-even for me.
• "I am not afraid of that," I returned, smoothing down my dress. "The question is whether you can."
• His laughter was low, a rumble that sent a familiar heat pooling between my thighs. "Oh, I can handle plenty of things, Jasmine. But this-" he pointed at the room, a smirk playing on his lips "-this I've got to see."
• "Not this time," I said, turning him toward the door and giving him a gentle push. "Some things are just better firsthand."
• Ethan hesitated in the doorway, eyes slipping dark as he watched me, his intense focus folding me into a tiny, alone room. "You have fun then. I am waiting to hear every dirty detail.
• The door chimed softly, announcing Lena's arrival. I turned, offering her a warm smile. She came inside, her figure as elegant and poised as ever; yet in her eyes lay a flicker of uncertainty-an unwavering, telltale sign that said she was here not only out of curiosity but also due to a need, which I so well knew.
• "Welcome, Lena," I told her, leading her farther into the room. "Hope you are ready to relax.
• Smiling, her face going pink over that, Lena slid out of her jacket, and there, soft, was a lace bralette underneath, framing her breasts perfectly. I couldn't help but linger a little longer on that, simply appreciating how those curves shifted, how soft her skin seemed, beckoning. "I'm ready for... whatever you have in mind," she said, her voice tinged with excited shyness.
• She lay back onto the table, her back arching slightly as she relaxed onto the plush surface. My hands did their job of smoothing oil on her skin out of autopilot, but this time it felt different. There was something soft in her, a vulnerability that tugged at something deep inside of me. It wasn't about the money or the thrill-this was connection.
• So, what made you decide to try this?" I asked, my fingers working the tension out of her shoulders, inching lower along her spine.
• Lena hesitated, then sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. "I needed to feel...something. Something different. I'm so tired of...faking it.
• And there her confession hung in the air, while an understanding empathy tugged at my gut. Been there, done that-the weight of expectations, the weariness of pretending. My touch softened, gentled into sweet caresses, his words making her breath catch. "You don't have to fake anything here," I whispered, leaning in closer, my lips grazing her ear. "Just let go.
• Lena's breath shuddered out as my hands slid lower, tracing the contours of her body in slow, measured exploration. Her moans were low, melodious, as she arched into my touch, her skin warm and slick beneath my palms. My fingers teased over her inner thighs, and she parted her legs-an invitation silent as it was welcome-and sent a thrill skittering through me.
• "Jasmine...," she breathed, her voice full of anticipation. I slipped a hand between her legs, feeling the heat of her arousal, and she gasped, her hips lifting off the table. I watched her, the way her eyes fluttered open, half-lidded with lust as her body responded to each touch, each stroke.
• "God, you're so wet," I whispered, delving my fingers into her slippery folds, my thumb straying to lick her clit just right. The moans escalated, echoing through the room, and I couldn't but smile at how she went undone under me. "You like that?
• "Yes," she whimpered, her voice breaking as I slipped a finger inside her, then another, pumping slowly. She dug her fingers into the sheets, her breaths short, desperate gasps, as I finger-fucked her, my arousal growing with every sound she made.
• And then Lena's climax hit suddenly, her body tensing, thighs clamping around my hand as she cried out, her release spilling over my fingers. I kept moving, drawing the pleasure out until she lay there, a trembling, gasping mess. Her chest heaved, and a satisfied curve tugged at her lips.
• "Feel better?" I asked, wiping my hand on the towel, my own pulse still racing.
• She nodded, the sparkle of post-orgasmic bliss dancing in her eyes. "Much better."
• Ethan was waiting for me when I stepped out of the room. Curiosity lit his eyes. "So? How was it?"
• I leaned against the wall, catching my breath as I was still buzzing from the encounter. "Intense. Different."
• He grinned, pulling me close. "You sure you don't want to share all the juicy details?
• I laughed, pressing my lips hard to his, the ghost of Lena's touch still sweet on my mouth. "Perhaps later. For now, let me just bask in the afterglow."
• Ethan's eyes flashed darker, both intrigue and something else-there was a challenge in them. "You're a fucking enigma, Jasmine. And I'm not done figuring you out.
• I smile, pushing him back. "Good luck with that." But as I walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that, for the first time, I was being chased. And I liked it.