My Boss's Bali Massage Trap - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading My Boss's Bali Massage Trap, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of My Boss's Bali Massage Trap.
My pulse hammered against my ribs as I scanned the bizarre setup. "Two therapists? What kind of spa treatment is this supposed to be?"
"Relax, Mrs. Anderson," the first masseur soothed, his smile as smooth as the cocktail he pressed into my hand. "Our signature experience. You'll see."
The second therapist adjusted equipment nearby, adding, "Pardon me—this room's like a sauna. Mind if I lose the jacket? Strictly professional, of course."
Maybe it was nerves or that vacation adrenaline, but I downed the drink in three reckless gulps before settling onto the massage table.
Then the world went soft at the edges. My thoughts turned to molasses, dripping slowly into nothingness.
"Mrs. Anderson?" A baritone voice pierced the fog. "Your husband's here."
European accent. Spa guy. Ryan's come to fetch me. Strong arms lifted me—why was walking so impossible? My eyelids might as well have been concrete slabs.
But as my cheek pressed against warm fabric, alarm bells rang through the haze. Wrong cologne. Wrong shoulders.
The attendants waved cheerfully as we passed through the doors. That's when panic shocked me awake.
The profile now inches from my face wasn't Ryan's chiseled jawline—it was Vincent Lowell's razor-sharp features.
"Vincent?!" My voice cracked. "What the hell—"
"Ah. Early wake-up call." His smirk sent spiders crawling down my spine as he adjusted his grip near a waiting sedan. No more pretending.
Every cell in my body screamed. "PUT ME DOWN!"
Vincent's laugh boomed for the sidewalk audience. "Sweetheart, we're in public!" He stage-whispered, "I said I was sorry about the argument."
The bastard was playing husband?
"HELP! HE'S KIDNAPPING ME!" I thrashed like a hooked fish as the spa guys approached.
"Problem, ma'am?" One tilted his head, the picture of concern.
Vincent flashed a wad of baht notes. "Just teaching my wife some manners."
I'll never forget the moment their eyes locked onto that money. How their helpful hands became accomplices shoving me into that black car.
"Relax, Mrs. Anderson," the first masseur soothed, his smile as smooth as the cocktail he pressed into my hand. "Our signature experience. You'll see."
The second therapist adjusted equipment nearby, adding, "Pardon me—this room's like a sauna. Mind if I lose the jacket? Strictly professional, of course."
Maybe it was nerves or that vacation adrenaline, but I downed the drink in three reckless gulps before settling onto the massage table.
Then the world went soft at the edges. My thoughts turned to molasses, dripping slowly into nothingness.
"Mrs. Anderson?" A baritone voice pierced the fog. "Your husband's here."
European accent. Spa guy. Ryan's come to fetch me. Strong arms lifted me—why was walking so impossible? My eyelids might as well have been concrete slabs.
But as my cheek pressed against warm fabric, alarm bells rang through the haze. Wrong cologne. Wrong shoulders.
The attendants waved cheerfully as we passed through the doors. That's when panic shocked me awake.
The profile now inches from my face wasn't Ryan's chiseled jawline—it was Vincent Lowell's razor-sharp features.
"Vincent?!" My voice cracked. "What the hell—"
"Ah. Early wake-up call." His smirk sent spiders crawling down my spine as he adjusted his grip near a waiting sedan. No more pretending.
Every cell in my body screamed. "PUT ME DOWN!"
Vincent's laugh boomed for the sidewalk audience. "Sweetheart, we're in public!" He stage-whispered, "I said I was sorry about the argument."
The bastard was playing husband?
"HELP! HE'S KIDNAPPING ME!" I thrashed like a hooked fish as the spa guys approached.
"Problem, ma'am?" One tilted his head, the picture of concern.
Vincent flashed a wad of baht notes. "Just teaching my wife some manners."
I'll never forget the moment their eyes locked onto that money. How their helpful hands became accomplices shoving me into that black car.
End of My Boss's Bali Massage Trap Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to My Boss's Bali Massage Trap book page.