Sweet as Candy - Karla Doyle Page 0,14
of the chair and sat up military straight. “Wait, don’t tell me—I’ve got it. I’ve been selected for special placement at one of your motivational workshops, and you’re here to personally rescue me from a life of nude body slides and covered blowjobs.”
His snorted laugh highlighted his dimples. “No. To all of the above.”
“Have to say, I’m a bit disappointed.”
“That I’m not here to rescue you?”
“That I won’t have the opportunity to heckle you from the audience,” she said, poking his leg with her toes.
The guy had quick reflexes, capturing her foot before she had the opportunity to retreat. She loosened her grip on the arm of the chair and waited, but he didn’t pull her onto his lap. Instead, he used his thumb to rub circles on her arch. Very effectively.
She sighed while sliding lower in her seat. A selfish move designed to give him better access, but definitely justified. The man had seriously talented hands.
“I’m supposed to be massaging you,” she said. “Not the other way around.”
“This is good.”
“It’s better than good.”
“Glad to hear it.” He smiled, leaned forward and collected her other foot, treating it to the same firm, rhythmic touch. “I’m not surprised your feet hurt. I’ve seen the shoes you wear with your work uniform.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. The shorts, bikini top and heels are my everyday clothes and shoes.”
“Bullshit.” His eyes twinkled when he laughed. “The stuff you’re wearing now is nothing like what you had on the first time I met you here. Neither were your clothes the day I ran into you at the store.”
She abandoned her semi-sprawled position and sat straighter, withdrawing her feet from his lap and tucking them beneath the chair. Relaxing around him was a mistake. Accidentally and not so accidentally, she’d allowed him to see too much of her true identity.
Being a cop didn’t make him trustworthy or safe. Treating her respectfully today didn’t erase the assholery he’d displayed toward Sara. Candace needed to remember that version of Jake Campbell. She needed to get her guard up and keep it there.
“You don’t have a lot of time left in your half hour, handsome.” She slipped into her Candy persona, wiggling her fingers while nodding suggestively toward the massage table. “At least let me return the favor for a few minutes. I’ll even be a good girl and keep the action above the belt…if that’s truly what you want.”
“Can’t do it.” He pushed up from the floor to stand in front of her. “As much as I’d love to have your hands on my body, it won’t happen here.”
“Then it won’t happen,” she said, copying his body language. Standing before him, she removed his card from the pocket of her sweatshirt, tore it into quarters and let the pieces flutter to the floor. “Whether I touch you or not, you’re a customer. Nothing more.”
“Today, maybe. But not indefinitely.” He scooped her hand into his and placed another kiss on her knuckles. “See you around, sweets.” With those words, he turned and left. Again.
She gave him thirty seconds of lead time, then headed for the locker room, where she changed into the items he’d so cleverly referred to as her uniform. Now she felt like Candy instead of Candace. If she’d taken the time to do this before going into the room with Jake, his charm would’ve bounced off, rather than snuck past her defenses. Too late to change what’d happened, but at least there wouldn’t be a next time. Not if he kept his promise.
Candace adjusted her boobs, lifted her chin, then walked out of the locker room. Paris and Chyna were in the lounge area, immersed in superficial magazines and a trashy talk show on the wall-mounted TV. Time to find out if Jake was good for his word.
“That guy I was just with,” she said, settling on one of the couches. “Did he happen to give you anything on his way out?”
“Hell, yeah, girlfriend.” Paris plucked some folded cash from her bra. “Fifty bucks each. Whatever you did to him back there, do it again next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” she said. Because in addition to promising fifty dollars to each of Candace’s co-workers, he’d promised not to come back. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Paris shrugged. “Easy come, easy go, right?”
“Right. And speaking of easy come…” Candace rose from the couch at the sight of one of her regulars approaching the reception desk. She thrust her boobs forward and tossed her hair