By Sidney Williams
This is part two of a four-part serial published July 10-31 2014. The rest of the story can be found here.
She answered the knock that came a shower and make-up touch up later, adjusting her robe’s neckline to make sure it didn’t conceal too much.
“Welcome back. Glad you’re still on duty.”
“I work most weekdays. We trade off on weekends.”
He gestured to his side, to a woman with skin as smooth and bronze as his, large black eyes and hair equally dark and glossy.
“This is Hadia. An apprentice with me today.”
Aubrey felt her smile fade as her cheeks flushed. She gave a cool hello then found her glass and a formal tone.
“Knots in neck and back if you could help with those.”
She watched him set up the table, watched his biceps and forearms ripple with the effort. Her skin warmed in spite of Hadia’s presence.
“Ready,” Hadia said.
“Would you put this somewhere handy?” she asked as she slipped out of her robe, hoping the look was tantalizing and frustrating since Baraz’d brought the chaperone.
“If you’ll lie face down,” he said.
She complied, and he touched her calves first with the backs of his hands, almost a teasing caress.
“Strange. I met a rather odd little man who used to work in the theater. I thought he might have some leads, but it didn’t work out.”
“Did you have any success?” Hadia asked as she watched from beside the table. With a glance Aubrey took in her beauty, white tee and crisp shorts hugging her form, her hair tied back.
Didn’t seem prudent to mention the discovered page, but Baraz’s palms glided across her flesh, moving to the tops of her thighs, brushing against her ass. Something inside relaxed even as little waves of pleasure rippled to her core.
“A partial on what I was looking for.” She wasn’t supposed to say that. “Not a complete song, just the middle page.”
“Intriguing, though. A portion could be played, give you the tune, no?”
“A start.” The last word slid out in a sigh. “Can you go higher? I spent a lot of time sitting on the Underground today.”
“Perhaps Hadia’s touch would be helpful.”
Before Aubrey could protest, the girl’s palms were moving up her legs. But she didn’t have time to analyze. Her thoughts blurred as those wonderful hands began kneading, brushing under the sheet, leaving the tops of her thighs behind.
Was there another question about the music from one of them? Were they working for a competitor or for Amil? Did she answer?
Aubrey’s face pressed the table as her breaths came in slower measures. Her eyes closed tight. Electric ripples of pleasure coursed through her. Both sets of hands were on her, and the girl’s waist-length hair spilled free.
For a while she could forget about everything.