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“Have dinner with me,” I said. “Not here. Not like this. Properly.”
Claire stared at me. “Dinner.”
“Somewhere with tablecloths. Where I’m wearing trousers.”
She laughed, then stopped laughing, and looked at me for a long time. “You’re serious.”
“I’m serious. If this is going to happen, I don’t want it to be twenty-five minutes in a spa room with your colleague next door. I want to do it right. Which probably means I need to have a very hard conversation with Helen first.”
Her eyes filled up. She blinked hard.
“You’d do that?”
“I think it’s been coming for a long time. With or without you.”
She leaned in and kissed me. Softly. Just once. Her hand rested on my chest, over my heart, and she smiled against my lips.
Then she pulled back and let her hand drift down, over my stomach, to the towel in my lap. She pressed her palm flat against my cock through the cotton and squeezed, firmly, just once. I groaned.
“That’s a promise,” she said. “For after the tablecloths.”
“You’re killing me.”
“Good.” She stood up, wiped her eyes, and handed me my shirt. “Go home. Be honest. Call me when it’s done.”
I left the spa with an aching cock, a lighter back and a very heavy heart.
It was the best massage of my life, and the happy ending was still a way off.
Ending 15 of 16: The Long Game. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.