“So good…” I realize how I sound—desperate and desperately horny—but I don’t mind.
Given what my other foot is feeling through the towel wrapped around his waist, it seems like he doesn’t mind, either.
I loll my head back on the pillows and gaze up at the ornate ceiling. I’m about seventy percent certain this is all some luciddream that I’m going to wake up from at any moment. There’s no way in any universe that I, Clara Everett, have thousands ofdollars in cash inside my bag which is sitting on a plush lounge chair inside a deluxe casino hotel suite while a gorgeous manwearing nothing but a white towel is massaging my feet.
I almost let out a delirious laugh, but then his thumb kneads a knot of tension from the arch of my foot. My back involuntarilyarches and the sound emitting from my
