Ava collapsed onto her couch after another grueling week at the marketing firm, her shoulders knotted with tension and her lower back aching from endless hours at her desk. At twenty-seven, she was successful but exhausted. On a whim, she had booked a private at-home massage through an exclusive app and recommended by a colleague for “total relief.”
The confirmation came quickly: Marcus Reed, certified therapist, arriving at 8 PM.
When the doorbell rang, Ava opened it in her soft robe, hair loose. Marcus stood on her doorstep like a fantasy made real. Tall, at least six-foot-two, with broad shoulders, sculpted arms, and warm eyes that seemed to see straight through her. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his simple black polo and pants hugged a powerfully built frame.
“Miss Ava? I’m M
