There’s a first time for everything. Amelia thought she was getting her normal massage from her long-time masseuse. Instead she found herself face to face with the most gorgeous hunk she’d ever laid eyes on! Tepid, unsure and very hormonal, Amelia had to make a decision: back out before it’s too late or allow herself to be touched by Pedro in ways she’d never imagined before.
Excerpt:
I really didn’t know why I was so nervous. I mean, it was just a massage, wasn't it? That's what I told myself as I brushed my long, fiery-red hair and stared at my fresh, beautiful, freckled face in the mirror. When I noticed my bright-green eyes staring back at me, I smiled involuntarily, lighting up my face from ear to ear.
How was it that I was so beautiful and still a virgin? I had what guys dreamed about – I was tall, slender and – if I do say so myself – extremely alluring. But I was also painfully shy and tried to avoid contact with the opposite sex at all costs.
That was what made this whole thing harder. I worked from home and tried to stay there as much as I could. Sure, I'd venture out to the grocery store every now and then, but I'd stock up on so much food that I was known as the local prepper.
But getting my bi-weekly massage was the one luxury that I allowed myself to participate in. Marci, my good friend, was the masseuse and I trusted her more than anyone else in the world. It had taken her a while, but she finally convinced me to come in and try one of her famous massages.
Oh boy, after that first taste of true relaxation, I knew I had to have it more often. I was addicted. If I had my way, I'd camp out in her office and get massages all day in-between patients.
I flicked my bangs back out of my eyes, grabbed my car keys and strutted out the door. Just before I reached my car, I doubled over in pain. Oh no, I thought to myself, it was that time of the month – which meant that I was probably fertile. Of course that didn't mean all that much as I'd never been with a guy – or girl, for that matter – before. And my prospects weren’t too bright at the moment, either.
I pulled out my phone and was just about to call up Marci and cancel our massage when I realized that I'd probably feel better if I just got it over with. Then I could curl up in a fetal position and suck my thumb. I laughed at that mental image and hopped into my car and drove to the massage place. It wasn't far and the fresh, morning air smelled good.
Nervousness washed over me, however, as I pulled into the parking lot and realized that Marci's car wasn't there. Was she running late? Did she have to leave for some reason? A million reasons as to her disappearance danced through my head and by the time I heard the chime of the door, I was about to heave.
“Where's Marci?” I practically shouted at the receptionist, before I realized that I was just calling attention to myself.
The receptionist – Cara, her name-tag read – furrowed her brow and told me that she had gone on vacation and she'd called up all her clients to let them know.
“I'm a client!” I demanded, slamming my fist on the desk. “Why didn't she call me?” I couldn't believe that she would do something like this to me.
“Calm down, Amelia, I'm sure it was just an oversight.”
I was just about to retort something when the substitute masseuse ushered a young woman out of his office and called the next one in. My mouth hung open and my eyes flew wide as I stared incredulously at his gorgeous hunk of a body.

Fiction