When Scott's divorce gets messy, he suspects Mary, his soon-to-be ex, of having an affair with her masseuse, Andreas.
But when he meets Andreas, Scott finds that suspicion is unfounded, and he and Andreas have a sexual connection that won't quit.
It's never that easy, though, and Mary's machinations threaten to ruin everything.
Scott stepped out of the bright LA sunshine into the relative darkness of the spa’s lobby. He pushed his Ray-Bans up on top of his head as he took in his surroundings. White marble as far as the eye could see, columns and frescos and statues—a California architect’s idea of a Grecian temple, though he’d been to Greece and it was nowhere near this clean. Not to mention the fact that the spa was owned by Germans. He sighed. So this was where so much of his money had gone. It was his soon-to-be ex-wife’s favorite place. He didn’t know how anyone could spend that much at a spa. Surely there were a finite number of treatments one could have. Not that they didn’t work—he had to admit that. Mary looked better than when they had met, if more sharp-edged and a great deal less pleasant to be around. All the spa treatments in the world couldn’t soften her personality.
Scott was interrupted from his reverie by a bright, perky, and German-accented voice. “Can I help you, sir?”
He turned to behold a tall, blonde beauty who looked more suited to the runway than a spa reception counter. She wore all white, and with her pale hair and complexion she nearly blended into the decor. But he supposed that was the point. Scott made eye contact and was rewarded with a brilliant smile that he suspected was as fake as her breasts and accent. “I have an appointment for a massage. Scott Smith.” Smith wasn’t his last name, it was Hudson, but he had his reasons for using an assumed name.
The receptionist nodded briskly and stepped behind a counter to consult a flat panel display, also white. “Ja, Herr Smith. I have you down for...Andreas?” Her statement ended with a polite questioning upturn. Scott could presume why. She clearly wondered why he’d asked for a male masseuse. He had his reasons, but she didn’t need to know.
“Yes,” he nodded, offering no further comment.
“Very good,” she nodded after an almost imperceptible pause. “Your room will be ready in just a few moments.”
Scott stifled a sigh. He knew exactly how much these sessions cost. His attorney had pointed it out to him with a disbelieving look. Which was one of the reasons why he was here.
The receptionist nodded and directed him to wait in the lobby, then disappeared.
Rather than sit, Scott wandered idly around the lobby, inspecting the decor. He didn’t see anyone else waiting, and figured out why when another almost identical blonde girl appeared to lead him to his changing room. Clearly they didn’t like to let handsomely paying customers wait.
He was given an Egyptian cotton spa robe and massage sandals, along with a key to his changing room so that he could leave his clothes securely. He hesitated, but he was here for a reason, so he had to go along with it.
He pulled off his clothes, hanging them neatly on the hooks, and considered the robe. He wondered if he was supposed to wear anything underneath it, but since he didn’t wear underwear, there really was no option. He slipped the robe on, belting it around his hips, and wondered what to do next.
Just then, there was a gentle tap on the door.
Scott felt ridiculous, standing there in a robe, but he opened the door.
The young man who stood there was tall, but slight. His black hair hung straight, down past his shoulders. He was dressed in a black turtleneck and slim black jeans, a stark contrast to the white. His eyes were lined with kohl, and his features were delicate enough to be feminine. He arched an eyebrow at Scott. “You are Mr. Smith, ja?” he asked in a soft, breathy voice.
Scott blinked a moment as he gazed at the man. “Yes,” he said shortly. He’d expected to be met by the masseuse, Andreas. The man he’d come to see. The man he was sure his wife had been having an affair with. From the name, he’d pictured a muscle-bound Aryan god, suitable for one of the statues in the lobby. Not this slim, frankly beautiful boy. “I have an appointment with Andreas.” Not that it mattered what Mary did now that they were separated, but he hated to think he’d been financing her affair as well.
“I am Andreas,” he said, lips twitching a little. “Und there is only one Andreas here. Perhaps you were thinking of someone else?” Andreas’s gaze traveled down Scott’s body slowly, then back up.
Scott stared back at Andreas. There was no way Mary was having an affair with this one. Andreas was quite obviously checking him out, and unless Scott was completely wrong, the masseuse was as gay as a three dollar bill. This wasn’t the revelation he had come here looking for. He was a little confused and at a loss. “Um. Well, no, I suppose not.” He considered changing his mind and cancelling the massage, but undoubtedly they’d still charge him for it. And he had the insane thought that he didn’t want to hurt the pretty boy’s feelings. “Okay, lead on,” he said finally.
“Come with me,” Andreas said, turning and heading down the hall. He walked slowly, further into the spa. The colors were more subdued here, soothing earth tones and mellow lighting. Andreas stopped at a door and opened it. Inside there was a massage table covered with cream colored sheets. The room smelled of sandalwood.
He stepped inside and turned to Scott. “Have you ever had a massage before?”
Scott took in the room. This was much more welcoming than the cold lobby. He liked it. “No, I haven’t,” he answered. He regarded Andreas, catching himself admiring the lithe line of the young man’s body. Andreas was slender, but could only be mistaken for a girl if the observer was really stupid.
Andreas smiled. “Gut. There is a towel across the table there. I will go out. If you would take off your robe and lie face down on the table. You may use the towel to cover yourself.” He pointed at it with a long manicured finger. “It is completely up to you if you want a full massage, or just your back and legs, but we will discuss that when I return. Do you have any questions?”
Scott smirked. “Do you get naked, too?” he asked teasingly. “It only seems fair.”