Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Milo
The spa reception area smells like lavender and mint—the kind of soothing scent that’s supposed to melt stress away but only makes me more aware of every nerve in my body.
The receptionist smiles as she hands over a clipboard of waivers. Sienna reads over it and then signs hers with a looping, dramatic flourish, doodling a heart on top of the “I” in her name.
She’s wearing a simple yellow sundress today that’s tight enough around her cleavage to remind me why I spent half the morning trying not to stare at her over breakfast.
Her hair’s braided down the middle of her head, still carrying the faint coconut scent of her shampoo, and she’s fidgeting—knee bouncing, fingers twisting the hem of her dress—the way she does when her brain is running faster than her body can keep up.
I sign my waiver without reading it. What’s the worst that can happen? A pulled muscle? Or maybe I finally snap and touch Sienna the way I’ve been imagining since that damn hot tub kiss last night. And now I’m expected to run my oily hands over her smooth skin and somehow not get hard?
Too damn late.
The receptionist leads us down a hallway lined with private rooms, the air growing warmer and heavier with the scent of essential oils. She opens the door at the end and gestures us inside. “Your therapist will be with you shortly to explain the session. Enjoy.”
We step inside and take a look around. There are two massage tables side by side, draped with white sheets. Between them stands a cart holding bottles of oil and a diffuser pumping out more lavender mist.
The soft lighting turns everything romantic. Almost dangerously so. Like the resort specifically designed this spa to test self-control.
My control is already being fucking tested with by the woman standing mere inches from me.
Sienna drops her bag on the chair and twirls around. “I’ve been to my fair share of spas over the years, but this feels… fancy.”
I close the door behind us. The click sounds louder than it should. “And intimate.”
She turns, eyebrow arched with a playful spark in her eyes. “It’s called a ‘couple’s massage’ for a reason. You nervous, Milo? Afraid you can’t handle touching me without losing your mind?”
I lean against the door and cross my arms to give my hands something to do. “I’m more worried about you. You might melt under my expert hands.”
She laughs. “Expert hands? I’ll believe that when they’re all over my body. You gonna have me moaning your name and all?”
I choke on literal air.
Before I can respond, there’s a soft knock, and the therapist enters, introducing herself as Lila. She explains the session: she’ll briefly demonstrate techniques for each of us, then we’ll take turns practicing.
“Focus on communication—ask what feels good, adjust pressure,” she says, eyes darting between us. “It’s about connection and relaxation. Any questions?”
We both shake our heads.
“Great,” Lila smiles. “I’ll give you some privacy while you decide who goes first. Undress to your comfort level—most prefer undergarments or nothing under the sheet—then lie face down on the table.”
The second the door clicks shut, Sienna doesn’t hesitate. She pulls the straps of her sundress down her shoulders until the fabric pools at her feet, leaving her in only a tiny pink bikini.
Before I can process anything, her hands go to the back of the bikini top, loosening the strings.
“Whoa—” I turn sharply toward the wall, heart hammering. “Sienna.”
“What?” Her voice is amused, completely unbothered. I hear the soft rustle as she unties the strings. “I have great tits, Milo. I’m not hiding them from anyone. Especially not you.”
Fucking hell.
I keep my eyes glued to the wall, jaw tight, fighting every instinct not to turn around. My imagination is doing plenty of work on its own—the image of her standing there topless, sun-kissed skin, curves on full display, and that mischievous grin I know is on her face.
“Done,” she announces after a moment, her voice carrying a teasing tone that’s starting to get under my skin. “You can turn around now. I’m decent… mostly.”
I turn slowly to see she’s already lying face down on the table, the white sheet draped over her lower half. Her back is completely bare, the elegant curve of her spine dipping gracefully into the sheet.
The sight of her hits me like a freight train.
Fuck. She’s stunning. Miles of smooth, sun-kissed skin I want to map with my fingers and my mouth… starting at that spot behind her ear and working my way slowly down her spine until she’s gasping my name.
Lila enters seconds later, thankfully stopping my thoughts from spiraling further. She demonstrates the basics—strokes, kneading, pressure points—on Sienna’s back first. Sienna sighs under her touch, her body visibly relaxing.
Then Lila turns to me with a professional smile. “Your turn. Start light, then build pressure. Remember to communicate.”
I step up to the table, hands hovering. The oil is warm in my palms as I rub them together. I place my hands on her shoulders first, thumbs circling the knots there with careful pressure.
Sienna hums softly. “Not bad… a little harder, though. I like it rough.”
The subtle innuendo sparks low in my stomach, and my cock jerks instinctively.
I increase the pressure, thumbs digging into the muscles along her shoulder blades. Her skin is slick and warm, trembling slightly under my touch. Every time I press deeper, she arches just a fraction, chasing the contact.
“Like that?” I ask, my voice rougher than I intend.
“Hmm. Perfect,” she murmurs, turning her head so her cheek rests against the padded table. Her eyes are half-lidded, lashes casting shadows on her flushed skin. “You’re better at this than I expected. Hidden talent?”
“Plenty of them.” I let my hands glide lower to the small of her back, thumbs pressing along her spine in firm strokes.
She arches again, a quiet gasp slipping from her lips. The sound shoots straight to my groin. I want to hear that sound again—louder, unrestrained, with her under me instead of on this table.
Fucking hell. What am I even talking about? What sort of essential oils are they pumping into this room, because I suddenly feel high on lust and nothing else.
Sienna laughs breathlessly, her voice a little shaky. “You’re making this feel too good. I might start expecting massages every morning after breakfast.”
I lean down until my mouth brushes the shell of her ear. “Careful what you wish for, Sienna. Because I might start delivering on that.”
Her breath hitches audibly. “Is that a promise?”
I don’t have a chance to answer before Lila announces it’s time to switch positions. I had completely forgotten she was still in the room with us. The whole world had narrowed to Sienna, the little sounds she makes, and the growing certainty that “fun only” is the biggest lie I’ve ever told myself.
Sienna sits up slowly, holding the sheet to her chest, back still bare. She ties her bikini top loosely, then gestures to the table. “Your turn. Strip for me, Milo.”
I almost smile at the command.
Pulling my shirt off, I lie face down and drape the white sheet across my lower half. Lila demonstrates the techniques on me, then minutes later, Sienna’s smooth hands land on my rigid back.
She starts lightly, fingers tracing my shoulders. Her touch is soft but sure. Every slide of her hands sends bolts of heat through me. I want her hands everywhere—lower, harder, pulling me closer. I want to feel her nails rake down my back while she’s breathless beneath me.
“Too soft?” She whispers, her voice teasing.
“Harder,” I grunt.
She digs in, thumbs pressing along my spine. I groan low, the sound muffled against the padded table. “Like that?” She asks.
“Hmm.”
She leans down until her breath is hot against my ear. “You’re tense. What’s got you so wound up, Milo? Is it my hands on you?”
I don’t reply because I’m sure she knows the answer to her question already.
Her hands slide lower to the base of my spine, fingers digging in. I arch slightly, another groan escaping me. Her touch is torture as she explores my back, shoulders, and arms. She’s killing me slowly, and I know she’s loving every fucking second of it.
“Now roll over, and we’ll focus on the front,” Lila says.
I lie there for a second as I process her words. What the fuck? Sienna didn’t have to lie on her back. Regardless, I do as she says and roll onto my back.
The sheet rides dangerously low on my hips. Sienna’s eyes darken the second they land on my chest, tracing every line like she’s memorizing it. She oils her hands again—the slick sound somehow obscene in the quiet room—then steps closer.
Her touch is electric from the first second. Fingers gliding over my shoulders, thumbs circling my pecs with soft pressure. When her thumbs brush across my nipples, the contact is anything but accidental.
“Like this?” She whispers into the charged air.
“Tease.” I manage, the word rougher than intended.
She smiles and leans down just enough that her breasts nearly spill from her bikini. The thin fabric strains, the swell of soft, sun-kissed flesh inches from my face. I can see the faint outline of her nipples straining against the material.
“You love it.” She murmurs, eyes locked on mine.
I don’t deny it.
Lila demonstrates a few more strokes, then quietly steps aside. The moment she moves into the corner, Sienna’s hands grow bolder, exploring the planes of my chest, sliding down over my abs, stopping just above the edge of the sheet—right where I want her to touch so desperately it hurts.
The tension coils tighter with every pass of her fingers. My body responds visibly—muscles tightening, breathing growing shallow, the sheet doing nothing to hide how hard I am.
“Intense enough?” She asks, her thumbs brushing my nipples again, on purpose this time.
“Not nearly,” I growl. My hand slips from the table, fingers gliding slowly up the back of her bare thigh, tracing the sensitive skin just beneath the curve of her ass. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Sienna.”
She bites her lower lip, eyes fluttering half-shut for a second before she recovers. “Maybe I like danger.”
I groan low when her fingers graze my nipples again. “Keep that up and I’m going to forget we’re not alone in here.”
“Yeah?” she whispers, leaning even closer until her breasts brush against my chest. “I’ve been thinking about your hands on me since last night. And now it’s my turn to make you suffer.”
I’m rock-hard, throbbing, fighting the urge to flip her onto this table and finish what we started last night. She continues the delicious torment for a few more minutes before the timer goes off and Lila announces that the hour is up.
I blink, stunned. An hour felt like seconds with Sienna’s hands on my body, and I’m already cursing myself for not savoring every single touch. My chest is heaving. My cock is aching. And the only thing I can think about is dragging her back to the villa and showing her exactly how much I want her.
Sienna straightens slowly, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling with each breath. She meets my gaze, her lips curving into that wicked smile I’m quickly becoming addicted to.
“Still fun only?” She asks softly, her voice dripping with challenge.
I sit up and hold her gaze. “Not even close.”
The words hang between us, heavy and honest. Her eyes darken, lips parting slightly like she’s about to say something—maybe push me further, maybe pull me in. For one charged second, I think she might lean forward and kiss me right here, Lila be damned.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she slips her dress back on, slides her feet back into her sandals, and grabs her bag from the chair. I count to five in my head, trying to calm my racing heart before getting up and putting my shirt back on.
“Beautiful session!” Lila beams, clipboard in hand, completely oblivious to the storm churning between Sienna and me. “You two have excellent chemistry. Feel free to book another session if you’d like.”
Sienna shoots me a look that’s pure mischief. “We just might.”
I don’t trust myself to speak, so I nod, my jaw tight. I’m not sure I’ll be able to touch Sienna again without losing control.
This is dangerous.
She is dangerous.
And the worst part? I don’t want to stop.