THE RUB DOWN
BY GINA SHELDON
Published by Gina Sheldon
Copyright© 2015 Gina Sheldon
Cover design© Melissa Gill by MG Books Designs
Edited by Kathryn McNeill Crane
Proofread by Julie Deaton, Author Services
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, store in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is no authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
On Monday morning, the sun rose over Boston, the sunlight glistened off the State House Dome. In the Common, in the Public Garden, spring was in bloom.
On this Patriots’ Day, like so many before, fans jumped onto the T to see the Sox at Fenway. In Hopkinton, runners laced up their shoes and set out on a 26.2-mile test of dedication and grit and the human spirit. And across this city, hundreds of thousands of Bostonians lined the streets to hand the runners cups of water and to cheer them on.
It was a beautiful day to be in Boston, a day that explains why a poet once wrote that this town is not just a capital, not just a place. Boston, he said, is the perfect state of grace.
And then, in an instant, the day’s beauty was shattered. A celebration became a tragedy. And so we come together to pray and mourn and measure our loss, but we also come together today to reclaim that state of grace, to reaffirm that the spirit of this city is undaunted and the spirit of this country shall remain undimmed.
~President Barak Obama, 44th President of The United States of America~
Prologue
Crisp white linens covered Tamlyn’s spread limbs, and soft candlelight cast shadows across her features.
“Harder, Luke, harder. You know I love when you’re rough with me.” She squirmed under my touch, her voice drowning out the soft background music. After two years in our relationship, I was accustomed to her giving me directions.
“Tamlyn, you know I’ll bruise you if I go at you any harder, and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” I spoke in a low, even tone, trying not to disrupt our rhythm. Every stroke of my fingers on her bare skin served a specific purpose. Tamlyn liked it hard and fast, but I preferred giving it to her gentle and slow.
“Right now, I don’t care. My body needs this. Needs you. Danny can’t give me what I need anymore.” She opened her eyes to peer up at me. “I’m too used to how you make me feel.”
“Oh, stop, Tam. You and I both know that Danny’s good. I’ve never heard a woman complain about him.” My hands glided over her smooth calves. “His style’s different from mine, but he knows how to get results.”
Tamlyn wasn’t the first woman Danny and I had shared. In fact, we often swapped clients. In our line of business, it was common practice. We thought it was beneficial to the women who came to us.
“I know, but you know my needs, and meet them every. Single. Time I see you.” She moaned when I gripped her hips. “I hate when you have to leave town. I seriously can’t survive without seeing you at least once a week.” Tamlyn tilted her hips to increase pressure right where she wanted me. “I even asked my husband, and you know I hate doing that. He tries his very best to do exactly what you taught him, but I swear I only moan so his feelings aren’t hurt.”
“Derek looked like he knew what he was doing when I showed him how to take care of you.”
A few months ago, Tamlyn brought her husband to see me. She wanted him trained to satisfy her body’s needs in my absence.
“Now hush, our time’s almost up, and I’m not through with you yet. I haven’t heard you scream my name,” I said as I moved into position to finish her off.
To gain better leverage for what I planned next, I placed my knee on the edge of the table. As my fingers trailed her inner thighs, Tamlyn squirmed beneath me. This was my favorite part, and I was going to make sure she enjoyed every second of it. As I reached my destination, her moans grew louder.
Then the door to the room slammed against the wall.
“You cheating bastard.” My girlfriend, Jennie, stood in the doorway, red-faced and screaming at the top of her lungs. Before her crazed presence registered in my mind, she lunged for Tamlyn.
All hell broke loose.
Chapter One
Luke
My alarm went off at the ungodly hour of six o’clock. Yesterday was a fucking nightmare, and exhaustion still dragged at me.
All the women I saw left happy, but one, Jennie, my girlfriend of four months. To say she overreacted and caused a scene would be an understatement. Thankfully, I prevented her from ripping Tamlyn’s hair out when she went after her. The whole time, Tamlyn sat on the table, clenching the sheet to her chest, with her mouth wide open in complete shock. I was mortified by Jennie’s actions.
I grabbed Jennie by the arm, dragged her out of the treatment room, and hauled her to my office.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I yelled once I closed the door.
“I should be asking you that question. I heard that bitch’s moans from down the hall. What were you doing in there?” Jennie screamed as she paced around the small space.
“I was doing my job, Jennie. You know I’m a massage therapist.” I ran my palms down my face in frustration, angry I had to have this conversation with her again.
“You’re a business owner.” Jennie narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Pay someone else to feel up the lonely women.”
“I don’t have time for your petty jealousy. If you don’t like my career, then we are through.” Fighting the urge to wring her scrawny neck, I sat down at my desk. “You know what, forget I said that. I don’t care if you like my job or not, we’re done. Get out of my spa, and don’t call me again.”
“But… Luke,” Jennie whined, her face flushed.
“My mind’s made up. Please leave.” I pointed at the door.