Reggie Brooks is bummed to be working on Valentine’s Day, especially when his first call of the night turns out to be to a local university dorm. The community college student turned traveling masseuse isn’t exactly in the mood to schlep his 60-pound massage table into some snooty client’s dorm while the whole school disses him.
That is, until he arrives at room 814 and sees his client; Eden Carroll, a junior who’s just broken up with her boyfriend. Feeling sorry for herself, she’d figured a nice, neutral massage was just what she needed. She’d expected some aging hippy with incense and cinnamon oil. Instead, she gets Reggie and his Abercrombie & Fitch good looks and expert hands.
When the simple massage turns hot and heavy, Reggie informs the beautiful Eden that Mobile Masseuse rules prevent penetration of a client. Instead he can do “anything but,” as long as she doesn’t pay him. The two agree to satisfy each other with hands – and mouths – only, and even coin a new holiday: Valen-Tease Day.
The two share an intimate night of steamy almost sex that leaves them both satisfied – even if it was just a “tease.” Fortunately, the session has lasted so long that by the time they’re both ready for Round Two, Valen-Tease Day is over – but the real fun’s just begun!
She paused in front of him, the faint glow of expensive perfume wafting off her as she smiled crookedly. “It’s not that. I just feel so…pathetic, you know? Valentine’s night, and I’m calling 1-800-MASSAGE all by my lonesome? Pathetic, right?”
Her nail went right back between her teeth. Before he realized what he was doing, he reached out and, on her next pass within swiping distance, gently tapped her finger from her mouth.
She gave him a vicious glare, and he stammered, “N-n-no, it’s just… you shouldn’t bite up such pretty nails.”
She opened her mouth as if to berate him, but instead a warm smile eased itself across her pert, young face.
“You’re kidding, right?” She leaned back against a waist-high bureau and regarded him as if maybe he’d spilled ketchup all down the front of his track suit.
Her shoulders broadened with the leaning motion, parting her expensive robe to reveal flawless, tanned skin and small, perky breasts beneath a black bra.
“No.” Reggie blushed. “It’s a bad habit.”
She shook her head, black hair rasping against her robe, deep green eyes flashing with humor. “No, I mean, they had to go and send the hottest masseuse available, just to humiliate me on Valentine’s Day, didn’t they?”
He shook his head. “Humiliate you?” he asked. “But, I mean…you called us, right?”
She sighed and eyed him warily. “Yeah, well, I was expecting some middle aged, overweight hippy with incense and coconut oil, not some chiseled Abercrombie & Fitch model. How am I ever supposed to relax with your hands all over me?”