Smashwords version Sweet Surrender (9 page)

It wasn’t until the end of the day when the next Penelope-related
bombshell detonated.
Poppy was sitting in her favorite hiding place, the office, going
over the inventory, when Viola rapped sharply on the door.
“Poppy, come out here,” Viola sang.
Poppy’s stomach twisted. Viola sounded sadistically chipper. This
couldn’t be good.

She opened the office door and stepped out cautiously.

In the
center of the store stood three young couples, holding wicker baskets of
massage oil, and laden with glossy pink and black bags overflowing with
merchandise. They were all smiling and chatting with each other and they all
turned towards her eagerly when she stepped out of the office.
“They’re here for the sensual massage demonstration,” Viola
smiled, with a wicked gleam in her eye.
Panic swept over Poppy’s face and she started making incoherent
squeaking sounds, and Viola added in a low voice, “Don’t worry, I called in
reinforcements. Otherwise known as Rafe.”
“What?” Poppy’s squeak went up several octaves.

“He gave me his cell phone number in case we had any more 
emergencies.”

“That’s not what I’m what-ing about. Sensual massage
demonstration?
What?”

“Penelope didn’t tell you? Shut the front door, I can’t believe
it. Yes, apparently the store holds sensual massage demonstrations.
 Genius idea, actually, because each couple also buys a big bucket of
massage oils, and I’ve been upselling the hell out of them ever since they
walked in the door.  By the way, they already paid for the class when they
registered, and they’re really excited about it.”

Before Poppy could protest, Viola walked over to the couples,
grinning hugely. “Thank you so much for coming!  I can promise you a
memorable experience, and many nights of pure pleasure with your loved one if
you use these techniques at home.  And now, let me take you back to the
demonstration room while our demonstration model gets ready.”

We have a demonstration room? Poppy thought, mind in a whirl.
Apparently they did, because Viola was leading the couples down the hall past
the bakery, to a door at the very end of the hallway.  She really needed
to explore the rest of the bakery.  What the heck else do we have here?
she thought, shocked. A dungeon? A bordello?

Viola came back in the room just as the front door opened, and
Rafe rushed into the store, taking in Poppy’s panicked expression.

He ran over to her, and put his hands on her shoulders.
 “It’s okay. Calm down. I got this. What’s the emergency?”

Viola leaned over and whispered in his ear. He looked at Poppy
thoughtfully, and then a devilish smile tugged at his lips.

“Hey.” Poppy squeaked, panicked. She didn’t like where this was
going.
Her eyes lit on Jeffrey, who was attempting to hide behind the rack
of lingerie. The coward.  “You and Jeffrey can do it!” she pleaded.

“No way. I’d rather be dipped in a vat of boiling acid,” Viola
snapped.

“Thanks very much, but I’d rather have root canal without
anaesthesia, while being eaten alive by rabid wolverines,” Jeffrey said,
shooting Viola a look of disgust.

Viola glared at him. “Oh, really? I’d rather be dipped in steak
sauce and thrown into a pit full of starving lions.”
“Is that so? I’d rather walk across broken glass barefoot-“ and
the two wandered off, debating over what tortures they’d suffer rather than
rubbing hot oil on each other’s naked bodies.
“Come on. We got this,” Rafe said, grabbing her hand. “I actually
think this will be very good for you. It’ll help you shed some of your
inhibitions.”
“I have inhibitions for a reason. My body is far from model
perfect and I don’t like people to look at it.” Poppy’s handed tightened on
Rafe’s in panic.

He let go of her hand
and gently p
laced both hands on her face and tilted
her face up to look at him, and she felt the rest of the world fade away, and
the frantic pounding of her heartbeat slowed. He stared down at her, his gaze
calm and commanding. She could fall into the caramel lakes that were his eyes
and drown, and die happy there.

“Forget about what your mother thought about her body. Forget
about fashion magazines that make their money by convincing women they need to
look like airbrushed, flat-chested human giraffes.  There are many men,
myself included, who like a full figured woman who loves to eat. The students
will love this, it will help your sister’s shop, and it will be very good for
you. In more ways than one.”

“Can’t we just cancel the class and refund their money?” Poppy
pleaded, her voice shaking.

“No way. What kind of reputation do you want this bakery to have?”
He grabbed her by the hand and led her down the hall.

“Er…Is it even possible to ruin this bakery’s reputation?” Poppy
followed him into the room, panic swelling in her breast.

“It is if people think that the owner makes promises she doesn’t
keep,” he said in a low voice. He glanced around the room. The couples were
seated in a row of folding chairs facing the massage table like an eager
audience at a rock concert; Viola had already turned on a CD boombox which
played soothing meditation music with sitar sounds and forest noises, and had
lit scented tea candles that perfumed the air with the sweet scent of jasmine.

Like a condemned woman, Viola slowly walked into the tiny changing
room, where she shed her clothes and tried not to picture herself as a giant
beached whale flopping on the massage table. She emerged clutching a towel
around her body for dear life.

Oh God. She had rolls. She had a belly. She had big thighs that
brushed together when she walked.

The massage table awaited. She had no choice. Damn Penelope, yet
again.

Trembling, she climbed on to the table and lay down, tucking her
face in the donut-shaped hole at the end of the table. Then Rafe picked up a
pair of headphones that were lying on the tray table nearby, and fitted them on
her ears, and she was swallowed up in the soothing music.

Suddenly, he flicked the towel off, and she was bare-butt naked in
a room full of strangers. She clenched her fists and her muscles tightened;
were they laughing at her? Why wasn’t Rafe touching her? Was he horrified by
how fat she was?

Moments later, she felt warm oil dripping on her back, and she
turned her head to sneak a quick peek at the three couples, who were staring at
her, enraptured.

And she felt Rafe’s strong, warm hands on her back, and the world
melted away.

Poppy lay
beneath him, muscles tensed and hands balled into fists, and Rafe’s heart ached
at how frightened she was. How little she thought of herself and her glorious,
lush curves.

Well, that was about to change. He would show her that her body
was divinely created, that it was a perfect instrument for receiving pleasure,
and he was the one man meant to give her that pleasure.

The tiny
voice of his conscience chirped at him angrily, but it was a million miles
away, drowned out by the roaring of blood rushing through his veins. He’d been
burning up with lust for Poppy since the morning he’d met her, and when Viola
told him about the massage class demonstration, images of himself caressing Poppy’s
naked flesh flashed through his mind, and all reason fled.

He spoke to the three couples in the front row, ad libbing
instructions on how to give a sensual massage, but his mind was focused
entirely on Poppy.

He slowly ran his palms over her warm flesh, starting with a
feather-light touch. He skimmed her back with his hands, trailing his fingers
lightly into the delicious dip where her back curved in, and then moving lower,
fingers tracing circles on the glorious ivory globes of her buttocks.

It was all he could do not to bend down and trace kisses along her
creamy skin. That would come later.

He felt her muscles relaxing beneath him, and she sighed softly
and relaxed into the soft padding of the massage table. He swallowed hard.
 Thank God he was standing behind the massage table, and his pants were
baggy; all of the blood in his body had rushed to his groin and his cock was
rock hard and standing at attention, straining to be free.

The couples held hands, leaned into each other, and watched
enthralled as he began kneading her back with a firmer touch, his strong hands
pressing into her muscles and feeling them melt beneath him.

As he pressed hard with his palms and dug his thumbs in, he slowly
moved down her back again.

He dripped more warm oil onto her buttocks and ran his hands over
them firmly this time, squeezing and kneading, delighting in her soft, yielding
warmth. Then his hands slid lower, between her generous thighs, and she moaned
and he felt her tense again, but her deep breathing told him that now it was
pleasure, not fear, that was causing her to muscles to go rigid beneath him.
Her legs parted willingly, and he rubbed the oil on her thighs, firmly
massaging them with both hands.

Heat spread throughout his body, and his cock was so hard and
swollen he almost feared it would burst from his pants. He took deep, steadying
breaths, struggling to keep his mind on both the eager audience watching them,
and Poppy.

Then, finally, his hands slid between her legs, and she let out a
shuddering gasp. He desperately wanted to spread her open wide, thrust his
fingers inside her, pleasure her roughly…

But he forced himself to hold back.

He would
wait until the demonstration was over and until the other couples were gone.

Then he
would build up her excitement, drag her slowly to the peak of ecstasy and
stretch the moment out for as long as they both could bear it. It was better
that way. She deserved to be teased, and savored, and lingered over like a
delicious, creamy dessert.

He slid the flat of his hands against her sex, feeling the juices
of her arousal soaking her thighs and smelling the sweet musk of her arousal,
and she whimpered in pleasure at his touch. Slowly, he massaged her inner thigh
with his right hand, as his left hand slid back and forth, back and forth, over
her golden curls and the slick wet petals of her desire.

“Ohhhhh.” It was a soft moan of surrender, and it tugged at his
heartstrings and at the same time sent a hot, dizzying rush of desire coursing
through his veins. God, he needed her. He needed to be inside her, plunging in
and out…

Not yet, but very soon, he thought.

Reluctantly, he moved on, and began working his way down her legs,
hands heating and caressing every inch of her soft flesh, until he reached her
feet. He gently caressed the sensitive soles of her feet and then rolled his
thumbs firmly along her flesh, enjoying her faint moans of arousal. What a
delicious, delightful woman. He loved her sensitive and responsive flesh; he
wanted to bring it to life, set her whole body on fire with arousal.

Then they were done, and he gently slid his hands off of her, and
walked over to the couples, thanking them effusively for coming as Poppy
climbed off the table, clutching at her towel and draping it to hide her
nakedness. They left, glowing with happiness.

He turned back to Poppy, who was standing up now, the towel draped
in front of her.
And he crossed the room swiftly, grabbing the towel and yanking it
away, and then dropping it on the floor.

Screw
self-restraint. He needed to have her now; his craving for her was like a
physical pain. He wasn’t misleading her; he wanted to be with her, tonight and
for many nights to come.

As long as she was still speaking to him after she learned the
truth. He should tell her. He should tell her now, before –

She looked up at him, and her eyes were slightly glazed, and her
soft lips parted. Desire flared up inside him, burning away self-restraint,
burning away everything except the need to meld his flesh with hers.

“Against the wall. Now,” he said roughly, backing her up and
pressing her against the smooth plaster wall with the hard length of his body,
and then he sank to his knees. He traced kisses down her stomach, tongue
circling her navel and dipping in, and she cried out in pleasure.

Then he kissed lower, tongue tracing circles on her sensitive
flesh, as he moved towards the prize, the triangle of neatly trimmed golden
curls. He breathed in the heavenly scent of her arousal, and then buried his
face between her legs, spreading her open with his fingers, and she cried out
and clutched at his hair.

His tongue slid between the wet folds as he sucked at her,
drinking in the sweet-tart juices, spreading her lips wide open so he could
thrust his tongue inside her.

“Ohhhh, yes,” she moaned, and he gently stroked the hood of her
clitoris with his thumb as her voice rose in a wordless wail of hungry,
desperate need.

It was all for him. She wanted him, needed him as much as he
needed her.  

His heart
pounded in his chest, dizzy with desire as he slid the hood of her clitoris
back to expose the tender bud and closed his mouth around it, hot and hungry
and sucking hard.